PART 2
Even heroes of the game aren’t immune to the cost of mismanagement
FOOTBALLERS in Malaysia grow up chasing dreams on dusty fields, guided by hope and heart. For many, the game isn’t just a sport – it’s identity, pride, and a chance at something better.
But when clubs collapse or salaries go unpaid, it’s the players who quietly bear the cost.
Behind every matchday cheer are stories of athletes skipping meals, taking side jobs, and pushing through pain just to stay in the game. They give everything, even when the system gives little in return. For every star, countless others struggle outside the spotlight.
It’s not just about lost income – it’s about broken trust, stalled careers, and families urging loved ones to find safer paths.
These players are more than athletes. They are sons, siblings, mentors, and symbols of resilience. Their voices matter. Their welfare matters. Because in the end, the soul of football lives in the people who play it.
Some still hold on to belief. Others are quietly walking away.
If Malaysian football is to move forward, it must begin with the people on the pitch. Players are more than statistics – they are role models, breadwinners, and believers in a dream worth protecting.
Facing Reality in Pro Football Management
Former national goalkeeper Syed Adney Syed Hussein has urged aspiring footballers to prioritise long-term financial stability over short-term salary promises.
Reflecting on his own career, Syed revealed that he faced salary delays at nearly half of the clubs he played for, especially early on when the Professional Footballers Association of Malaysia (PFAM) had yet to be established.
“Back then, we’d rely on the captain to speak up. When PFAM came in, players finally had a proper channel to report issues and get support – and PFAM continues to work hard on that front,” he said.
Syed said protections for players have improved in recent years due to PFAM’s work, social media awareness, and international collaboration with FIFPro.
“I think because the players’ union has become much stronger, players now have a bigger voice,” he added.
Still, he believes deeper reforms are needed in how clubs manage finances.
“For years, teams have been putting figures on paper they simply can’t afford. It hurts the players, the staff, and the fans.”
He praised clubs like Kuching City for operating within their means and called for more former players to be involved in football governance.
On advising young talents, Syed warned, “Yes, the dream is to go pro. But always have a backup plan. Football careers are short, and financial security isn’t guaranteed.”
“If one team offers more money but has a history of not paying, it’s wiser to choose a team that pays less but consistently. Prepare for a rainy day — save something from every paycheque.”
Now coaching at KDH Global Football Club, which has a branch in Kuching, Syed said he’s keen to mentor young players based on his own experiences.
“If I could turn back time, I would have listened more to my family and coaches,” he reflected, encouraging players to engage with PFAM to understand their rights and to be proactive in securing their futures, both on and off the pitch.
The Hidden Cost of Chasing a Dream
Footballers are the heartbeat of Malaysian football — but many face financial hardship just to stay in the game.
While some shine under stadium lights, others quietly battle behind the scenes — unpaid, overlooked, yet still fiercely loyal to the game.
For former footballer Mr. A, who once represented a Sarawak-based team, salary delays were not a one-off — they were a recurring hardship.
“There were several times when my salary was paid late, and some weren’t paid at all,” he said.
Delays of up to four months were common. While the team manager offered pocket money to ease the burden, the financial strain persisted.
“He was supportive during those difficult months when we had no pay,” Mr. A added.
Although basic needs like food, accommodation, and travel were covered, players still struggled.
“It was tough — having no salary while dealing with unpaid bank loans,” he said.
Relying on savings and odd side jobs, Mr. A pushed through. Eventually, conditions worsened —with teammates reportedly going up to eight months unpaid.
Now retired, he joins local tournaments “just as a hobby now”.
A Player’s Quiet Goodbye to Professional Football
Another former Sarawak-based player, who requested anonymity, said the joy of playing was slowly eclipsed by financial instability — a situation that eventually forced him to quit out of football altogether.
“In 2022, I went four months without pay. Then in 2023, it happened again — this time for three months,” he shared.
Without a side job, he survived on savings alone.
“I was lucky I didn’t have car or housing loans at the time. Some of my teammates had both — it was tough watching them struggle,” he said.
He added that their attempts to seek redress went nowhere. “We tried different channels to get what we were owed, but it didn’t make a difference. We never got what we rightfully deserved.”
Now working outside football, he’s left the sport professionally.
“I’ve stopped playing. I had to move on,” he said, reflecting on the dream he had to leave behind.
Football isn’t forever — Plan beyond the pitch
Former Sarawak United midfielder Benedict Martin endured more than six months without pay — a period he described as deeply disheartening.
“There wasn’t much I could do. The club was really hit hard financially,” he told Sarawak Tribune.
Benedict, who is now transitioning into coaching, said the experience taught him the importance of professional planning.
“As players, we should also consider other job opportunities beyond football,” he advised – urging young players to be more cautious when signing contracts and to research club backgrounds thoroughly.
While a lump-sum payment eventually helped cover overdue wages, he stressed that salaries must be paid as promised.
“Yes, we eventually received a large amount, which covered the missed months. But it doesn’t change the fact that players should be paid on time. That’s what’s stated in the contract, and it needs to be honoured,” he said.
His experience mirrors that of many Malaysian footballers in recent years — underscoring the need for financial reforms in clubs and stronger player protection mechanisms.
Because when the final whistle blows and the stadium lights dim, too many players are still waiting. Waiting for wages, for answers, and for the game to take care of its own.
And until football protects those who give it everything, the dream will remain as fragile as a promise unpaid.
