Pass Kim Song the %#@* ball! - The Quah Kim Song Story

Rich melody in hero's song book
Quah Kim Song has placed his career and 1977 national pride in a time warp
By Wang Meng Meng, The Straits Times, 6 Nov 2014

FROZEN in silver bromide, the black and white film-era print captures the moment that defined this footballer's career. Quah Kim Song is airborne, a human torpedo with his head cocked to the right and glancing in the 104th-minute extra-time winner in the 1977 Malaysia Cup final.

That 3-2 win over Penang was his zenith, that goal his finest hour. But the man himself is fiercely private and has kept a low profile since resigning as the Football Association of Singapore's director of competitions four years ago.

But he is back, pouring his thoughts into a book, revisiting his playing career and sharing nuggets about his formative years and family. That picture of his diving header, printed on the back cover, crystallised his career, but it is just part of a sea of memories for the man idolised by the Kallang Roar.

Entitled "Pass Kim Song the %#@* ball! The Quah Kim Song Story", the soft-cover will be launched tomorrow at the Singapore Writers Festival by the Straits Times Press.

"I'd rather leave quietly and I'm very reluctant to do big interviews. I prefer not to reveal too much," said the 62-year-old to The Straits Times on his preference to stay under the radar.

"But it's time to rethink. I want to document my story, to dedicate it to my father, Heck Hock, and mother, Lau Ah Noi.

"They were not sports people but they raised 11 kids on Sembawang Naval Base, 10 of whom went on to represent Singapore. They had to work hard and put food on the table for the 11 of us.

"They did so much for Singapore football. Not much attention was paid to my folks. This book is for them."

For four decades, there was at least one of the Quah brothers in the national team, from elder brother Kim Beng in 1954 to Kim Song, who played for the country from 1968 to 1983.

Sisters Theresa, Doreen and Rosa also played for the national women's team in the 1960s. Even though youngest brother Kim Tiong did not play football, he was a 400m runner who won a gold medal in the 1975 Seap Games (now known as the SEA Games).

The former star striker's book, written in his voice - as told to freelance journalist and documentary maker Jacintha Stephens - hopes to take readers on a ride and look at his playing career and his life through his eyes.

The book is the culmination of a year's work. Stephens would meet Kim Song two to three times each week and record his thoughts. Most of his words, which could be blue at times, are preserved. Hence the title, a scream the striker could often hear from the terraces during his peak.

There is no gossip on his current private life. There is no axe to grind, not even against the goalkeeper who fractured his right shin in 1978, effectively robbing him of his warp speed. Roy Keane, please take note.

It is a celebration of his career that was sandwiched in a period of nation building.

And his finest moment? "The newspapers reported that the streets back home were empty, fans were glued to the television and radio sets. When we scored, there was a deafening noise in the heartland," Kim Song recalled.

"The Malaysia Cup was a phenomenon that gripped the nation. We were a multi-racial team and we had players with unique skills that entertained the crowd. It was the moment the country, which was only 12 years old, celebrated together and the 1977 team contributed to that."

Lavishly illustrated with photos, Kim Song's book takes readers back to an age of flared trousers, sideburns, disco dancing and eight-track cartridges.

At his prime in the 1970s, he was paid by C. K. Tang to make store appearances to sign autographs. There is a picture of him strumming the guitar in front of his team-mates. But as he revealed, he only knew the chords to one song - Don't Play That Song, by local band Keith Locke and the Quests.

His cheeky side is also shown through his words. Trained by hyper-strict coach Choo Seng Quee, the national team lived in the dormitory at Jalan Besar Stadium, woke up at the crack of dawn to sing the national anthem and had to recite the Singapore pledge 10 times before training commenced.

But unknown to the man they call "Uncle Choo", players rappelled out of the windows, using bedsheets to slip out at night.

These days, Kim Song keeps himself busy with cycling, catching up with friends and taking care of his grandchildren Ryan and Renee, the twin toddlers from daughter Leonora. His son Leon, married recently.

And being a thoughtful chap, he has taken special care of a particular aspect of his book.

Trying hard to contain his laughter, he quipped: "The fonts are larger than normal so that my fans, who are all probably quite old, can read it."

Kim Song will be at the Singapore Writers Festival tomorrow to launch his book and sign autographs.

And one suspects, his fans will be there to thank him not just for that goal, but also for the nostalgic ride down his 148-page time machine.

Past success built on teamwork: Quah
Lions legend says demands of modern game make life tougher for current players, officials
By Ian De Cotta, TODAY, 7 Nov 2014

If his son Leon had seriously considered a professional football career today, Quah Kim Song would have pointed him to Europe, where prospects are far brighter, as the money in the local game is still not at a level where he could secure a viable future when he retires.

In an interview with TODAY, Quah, a Lions legend of the 1970s and early 1980s, said even a salary of between S$10,000 and S$15,000 a month for a top S-League player is not enough to put a footballer on sound footing when his playing days end in his 30s. This, added the former star striker, is probably why parents steer their sons towards academic excellence instead of a football career, even if they have the talent to excel on the pitch.

“I told my son, play football socially but study. He had a second-class upper (honours degree) at university and now has a good job and I am happy,” said the grandfather of two-year-old boy-and-girl twins from daughter Leonora. “But if he had played football, I shudder to think what would have happened to him because if you ask me if it is a good option to play football today, I’d say that well there is professional football here but the money isn’t still that great.”

Quah will be launching his book, Pass Kim Song the %#@* ball!! — The Quah Kim Song Story, at the Singapore Management University tonight. Its narrative, however, steers clear of any comment on the current state of local football and instead covers the dizzying days of the Malaysia Cup almost four decades ago, especially Singapore’s dramatic 3-2 win over Penang in the 1977 final.

The book, 62-year-old Quah said, is a tribute to dad Heck Hock and mum Lau Ah Noi, who had to raise 11 children who — apart from elder brother Kim Beng — all went on to don national colours. Six played for the Lions, three turned out for the national women’s football team and the youngest, Kim Tiong, was a Singapore 400m runner who won gold at the 1975 SEAP Games.

Quah said he also wanted to honour FAS administrators, coaches, players and fans in the 1970s who gave Singapore football one of its best decades in history.

Under the presidency of colourful lawyer N Ganesan and legendary coach Choo Seng Quee, Singapore football sizzled with players such as Samad Allapitchay, S Rajagopal, Mat Noor and Eric Paine.

“During Ganesan’s time, he had a group of people who shared the same ideals, same passion, and same ambition to achieve something big, and they did it without any interference,” said Quah. “This was what they believed in and worked on as a team, even though sometimes there were little squabbles and arguments. I believe if we are to move forward, we need a big pool of people who share the same ideas.”

But he conceded it will be difficult to replicate what Singapore football enjoyed 40 years ago as circumstances are different today. Ganesan was a well-to-do lawyer and the bulk of his team were volunteers who did not face the kind of pressures salaried staff do under their bosses.

Football, Quah said, has evolved into a professional administration and putting together a team that share common ideals is difficult.

“It is easy to find a civil servant at the top range of the salary range and ask him to administrate,” he said. “He will probably do a good job, but whether he can assemble a team that can bring glory to Singapore football, I doubt it. Just like a footballer, you require exceptional skills to put up a good team and it is not easy.”