When Football Came Home

 

1996 was a special year for Singapore football. Two years after we left the Malaysia Cup, the S.League was born - our own professional football competition. 

Eight sides took part in the first S.League campaign; Balestier Central, Geylang United, Police, Singapore Armed Forces, Tampines Rovers, Tiong Bahru United, Woodlands Wellington and Sembawang Rangers. 

I still remember the excitement of its launch at the old National Stadium. The lights, the crowd, the roar that rolled across Kallang - it felt like the whole country was stepping into a new era of the sport we loved. 

From the very start, my heart belonged to Sembawang Rangers. The club was also referred to among supporters as the “Stallions”. Between 1996 and 1999, they were my team. Maybe they didn’t always top the league, but they had a spirit and grit that made me proud to stand behind them. 

Thanks to my father’s job with the Singapore Sports Council (SSC), I was lucky. He often brought home free tickets to matches, which meant my weekends were spent under the stadium lights. I became a familiar face at Yishun Stadium, the Stallions’ home ground, and occasionally made the trip to Woodlands Stadium. 

Woodlands Wellington, I have to admit, had a special magic. In my eyes, their supporters were among the most passionate fans in the league - drums beating, flags waving, chants echoing through the night. You could feel the energy long before you reached the gates. 

Looking back now, the S.League of the late 90s wasn’t just about football scores or league tables. It was about the thrill of live matches, the smell of the grass, the echo of the referee’s whistle, and the way an entire stadium could rise in one voice. It was a time when Singapore football felt alive in every neighbourhood, and for a young fan like me, it was nothing short of magic. 

Mee Kuah, Green Bin And A Mother’s Love

 

Image: National Archives Of Singapore

In 1993, I was just a small boy starting life’s first chapter at PAP Community Foundation (Nee Soon East Branch; Blk 227 Yishun Street 21). It was here that I learned my ABCs and 123s, made my first friends, and began to see the world beyond the walls of home. 

Some memories have faded, like the names of my classmates, but others remain crystal clear. I can still picture my mother walking me to school every morning, her gentle hand in mine. And when the day was over, she would be there at the void deck, waiting patiently, as though no other place in the world mattered more than being there for me. 

Not every memory is warm and fuzzy. I remember the sting of childhood discipline - the time I was caught talking too much while the teacher was teaching. My punishment? My mouth taped shut and my small body made to stand in the big green rubbish bin outside the school. I also got into trouble once for wearing my treasured Captain Planet toy ring. Back then, even a plastic ring could be seen as a classroom offence. 

But between those moments of mischief and learning, there was something sweeter - literally. Some afternoons, after school, my mother would take me to the coffee shop at Blk 291 Yishun Street 21 (just opposite Blk 227) for Mee Kuah. I can still smell the rich, spicy broth and see the noodles wrapped in Daun Upeh (areca palm leaf). That Mee Kuah was unlike anything I’ve tasted since. These days, I sometimes buy Mee Kuah at the Golden Mile Food Centre, but without the Daun Upeh, the flavour feels like only half a memory. 

Looking back, those two years weren’t just about schoolwork. They were about the love of a mother who was always there, the flavours of a food long gone, and the lessons - both kind and strict - that shaped me. Childhood has a way of leaving its fingerprints on your soul, and for me, they smell faintly of Mee Kuah and the green paint of a rubbish bin in Yishun. 

A Nostalgic Journey: The Pool

This is Singapore Sports Council’s Swimming Pool Entry Ticket.

These two tickets take me back to a nostalgic era in the early 1990s.

This is when I often accompanied my father who was on duty in Yan Kit Swimming Complex, Yishun Swimming Complex, and Woodlands Swimming Complex. Besides spending time swimming in the pool, I also liked to sit at the main entrance of the swimming complex and collect these tickets from guests who wanted to enter the pool. Usually, I would collect hundreds of tickets. I used those tickets as materials for writing and drawing.

Tickets like these are no longer used.

Whenever I look at the pictures of these tickets, I remember my childhood. The beautiful atmosphere at the swimming pool back then, where I spent most of my childhood.

I also cannot forget the friends who brightened my days, like Vincent, the son of the canteen operator at Yishun Swimming Complex. Vincent might have forgotten me, but the memories of our childhood together in Yishun never fade from my memory. 

Reviving A Gem

A single-storey “C”- shaped Art Deco building is all that remains of Yan Kit Swimming Complex - once the nation’s largest and most up-to-date swimming venue. 

Closed in 2001, it is best remembered for its unique architectural form and coloured mosaic tiles. 

Sitting in the shadow of the Pinnacle@Duxton, the now-defunct Yan Kit Swimming Complex is undergoing redevelopment into a community sports facility. 

The original single-storey C-shaped building remains at the entrance of the site. 

Constructed at the cost of $513 000, the complex opened in 1952 - making it the nation’s second public swimming pool complex, as well as the largest and most up-to-date then. 

Close to 15 000sq meters of land were dedicated to the complex - furnished with three contiguous pools, amenities such as a clubhouse, shower rooms, refreshment kiosks and children’s paddling pool. 

The complex was opened to the public in 1953 - with an entrance fee of 10 cents for swimmers under 18 years old and 15 cents for adults. 

In its heyday, the immensely popular pools were standing room only, and a two-hour time limit was imposed on the swimmers.

The Art Deco architecture style of the building is represented through the building’s flat concrete roof, curved walls which are interspersed with round windows and perforated blocks, and the slim circular columns with conical capitals that hold up a protracted veranda. 

Other unique architectural details augmented its charm. A mural of sea creatures added a decorative touch to the plain outer walls of the changing room facility. Additionally, the pools had subtly curved sides, which traced the contours of a former railway track, as well as pale-yellow tiles within, and mosaic tiles - in cream, maroon, and pale green - without. 

The complex eventually closed its doors in 2001, due to a decline in attendance, coupled with an increase in maintenance costs. 

As subsequent efforts to privatize it in 2005 proved unsuccessful, the pools were ultimately backfilled and grassed over in 2011. 

As of early 2020, the site is undergoing redevelopment works and now filled to become a garden space.

Nostalgic Memories

I recently came across a captivating photo that immediately transported me back to my childhood days spent in Johor. 

The attached image captures the essence of the itinerant food vendors on their motorbikes, a sight that used to grace our housing area regularly during the afternoons or nights before 10pm. Growing up surrounded by these scenes has left an indelible mark on my memories.  

I wanted to share this photograph here, as I believe it beautifully encapsulates the cultural richness and nostalgia associated with these vendors in Malaysia. Their presence not only added flavor to our lives but also contributed to the vibrant tapestry of Malaysian culture. 

My Long-Lost Friend, Mohan

In 1998, I was transferred to Marsiling Primary School, and during that period, I had the privilege of making a cherished friendship with Mohanansundram s/o Vengalastevi, commonly known as Mohan. Our bond was formed not just by shared geographical origins in Johor, but also by our daily commutes to school, navigating the Causeway to avoid the morning congestion. 

Mohan quickly became my best friend. We often journeyed home together, and on occasions, I accompanied him to Woodlands Swimming Complex, where my father was employed. It was during these moments that our friendship strengthened.

Mohan's academic prowess shone brightly, as he consistently ranked among the top students in our Class 4E. What set him apart, however, was his willingness to help classmates struggling with their studies. I was fortunate to benefit from his kindness, as he patiently stayed back after school to revise lessons with me, ensuring I grasped the material thoroughly. 

Regrettably, after a year, Mohan's family made the decision to transfer him to Swiss Cottage Primary School. Since then, we lost contact, and despite my efforts, I have been unable to locate him.

I am reaching out to anyone reading this blog who is aware of Mohan's whereabouts, to help facilitate our reunion. 

My Long-Lost Friend, Hemaraj

Magic: The Gathering playing card is not just a playing card, but it reminds me of a long-lost friend whom I miss so much to this day. 

This is my heartfelt request for assistance in reconnecting with a dear friend whom I have lost contact with over the years. 

My paths with Hemaraj s/o Barathan diverged after we graduated from Marsiling Primary School in 2000. Hemaraj resided somewhere at Woodlands Avenue 2 (Blks 890s) with his father Uncle Barathan, mother, older sister and younger brother, Sasi. 

During our school days, Hemaraj and I shared a close friendship. After classes, I used to accompany him to Woodlands Swimming Complex, where my father worked, and we would enjoy swimming together. 

Subsequently, we would spend our afternoons at his house, where his mother, a warm and kind lady, would prepare Halal meals for us. I cherish the memories of those days, and I consider myself fortunate to have been treated as part of their family. 

Hemaraj's sister would often join us to ensure we completed our homework and engaged in a bit of revision. 

I would stay at their home until after dinner, and Uncle Barathan, upon returning from work, would generously drive me back to Woodlands Swimming Complex safely with his prime mover. This extended kindness made me feel like a part of their family. 

Now, after 23 years, I find myself yearning to reconnect with this family. Unfortunately, my attempts to locate them have been unsuccessful. If, by any chance, those who read my blog here have information about Hemaraj or his family, I would be immensely grateful for your assistance in facilitating a reunion. 

Reconnecting with Hemaraj and expressing my gratitude to his family would mean a great deal to me. 

The Daylight Crawler

Hill 180 (the single tree on top of the hill)

Close-up of the single tree at Hill 180

This is a peculiar and unsettling experience I had in 2000 on what used to be Hill 180, now occupied by Marsiling Greenview flats.

The hill was also popularly known as Batu Gajah during its heyday back in the 70’s to 90’s. 

The hill was situated at Marsiling Avenue (expunged) and that slight incline of a hill used to also lead in the direction of the former Marsiling School (later occupied by English College) which had been abandoned for quite some time. 

Hill 180 (red arrow)

Former Marsiling School

Former Marsiling School

KD Malaya flats

Marsiling Greenview Blk 182A (Woodlands Street 13) now stands on the former hill. 

There were two blocks of what looked like HDB flats on the right side of Marsiling Avenue. 

These two blocks of flats remain quite fresh in my memories is that in subsequent years, when I traveled along the present Marsiling Road, I often saw these two blocks of flats. 

A few years back, when I went there, I did not expect to see them anymore. Hence, I was happily surprised to see them still there in an open field, but fenced up. 

The two blocks of flats belonged to KD Malaya, or Tentera Laut Diraja Malaysia (TLDM) and were the housing quarters for staff of TLDM camp which used to be located on Admiralty Road (near the present Riverside Road). 

Hill 180 can be seen from Blk 101 Woodlands Street 13

Blks 120 to 137 of Woodlands Street 13, were part of the original Hill 180. Blk 123 was formerly a terraced vegetable plot at the foot of Hill 180. 

Over the years, many changes have taken place in Marsiling. A whole new Woodlands housing estate has emerged, and I had assumed that Hill 180 had long vanished from the face of this earth. 

Although almost one-third of Hill 180 has been flattened, at least part of it is still intact. 

The left over of Hill 180 was located in what is today Woodlands Town Park East. 

There are lots of granite boulders on the hill. I think this could be one reason why the government has not flattened the entire hill in the late 90’s. 

Where large granite boulders are present, the only way to remove them efficiently is to use explosives. For example, explosions can be heard when contractors were clearing the hill to build the Singapore Sports School at Champions Way. 

In the case of Hill 180, maybe because of the proximity to schools and public housing, they may have found it not worth the effort for such a small piece of land. 

This spooky incident occurred on the hill near the abandoned Marsiling School, a place that had an ominous aura due to its deserted state. 

One day, after school, my friend Mohammad Halimun bin Mohammad Shaifful and I decided to explore the hill. We settled near the one and only tree on the hilltop. 

It was there that we heard an unfamiliar lady's voice chanting prayers, unrecognizable in Mandarin or Tamil.

As the voice approached, our curiosity turned to fear when we witnessed a pale-faced lady with long hair and a flowing robe crawling up the hill using her bare hands and legs. Her eerie laughter intensified our panic, prompting us to flee downhill, resulting in a fall that landed us behind a bus stop (it is still there; infront of Blk 182A).

Seeking solace from an old Malay lady and a Chinese uncle waiting at the bus stop, we shared our experience. To our surprise, they offered the same advice - avoiding the hill, especially the area around the single tree.

Upon reporting this incident to my father, employed at Woodlands Swimming Complex, he affirmed the eerie reputation of the hill. 

Subsequently, whenever we traveled by bus from Woodlands Swimming Complex to Old Woodlands Bus Interchange at night, a glance toward the hilltop revealed a haunting sight: a white robe hanging from the tree.

I share this account not only as a personal anecdote but also to bring attention to the mysterious and unsettling occurrences around Hill 180. 

Now, the other half of Hill 180 (Woodlands Town Park East) is what remains - a peaceful park offering not just lush greenery, but a beginner-friendly hiking trail that cuts through the park and leads up a hill. The bouldered pathways with tarmac-ed roads make it easy to trek up. It'll take 15 minutes to reach the peak, plus you'll be rewarded with scenic views of the estate from up here.