Kam Raslan’s Talking Edge

(Reprinted from The Edge – Options pullout, 22 August 2016 issue)

Dear Kam,
How on earth can golf be an Olympic sport? But apart from that, I’ve enjoyed watching the Olympics. And Malaysia has done well, haven’t we?
Major sports fan

Badminton has the unique ability to build tension to excruciating levels. The rallies happen at great speed and then there is a sudden lull in the action before the next serve, which is delivered with dramatic slowed-down deliberation, and then the next hectic burst of speed as the points crawl upwards. If the players are, say, Danish and South Korean, then it doesn’t feel particularly tense. But if the players are Malaysian, the whole game seems designed to destroy my nerves. Which is why I can’t watch Malaysians play badminton anymore. And because I know it’s my fault if they lose.

Like most people, I don’t follow Malaysian badminton closely but it suddenly becomes very important during the Olympics. Malaysians have relatively few opportunities to feel the highs of sporting glory and when the occasions do come along, I am always surprised by how utterly terrifying I find the whole thing. I want them to succeed so much and I so desperately want the nation to have something to cheer together. It feels wrong to put so much pressure on athletes who only pop into my life once every four years, but that is how it is. I want the patriotic, emotional release that only sport can provide. And it would have to be badminton, the most tension-filled sport in the world.

At the time of writing, the Malaysian mixed doubles and men’s doubles teams had reached the finals, having beaten their respective top-ranked opponents. It is a great achievement. But I will not be watching because I have found that whenever I watch, they lose points and when I don’t watch, they win. I’ve tested this theory on other sports and the results are very consistent, so we can call it scientifically proven. I mustn’t watch. And I wouldn’t trust my emotional response if they do win. At a time when there hasn’t been much good news, I worry that the intensity of my desire for them to win and the extremity of my response are in direct relation to the depth of my mood.

This has been a good Olympics for Malaysians, with success away from the badminton courts in diving and, my favourite, in cycling, with Azizulhasni Awang winning a bronze medal in the keirin event. Cycling has always been completely dominated by the orang putih physique and I can’t think of another Asian (well, not from China) who has succeeded in a sport I do follow quite closely. Azizul (foreign TV commentators pronounce his name as “Ah-Wang”) once famously got a giant splinter through his leg at a cycling event and still finished the race. He has won many medals before and was among the favourites for a gold medal at Rio, but had to settle for bronze.

The Malaysian medals tally might not seem great but for me, it is the right amount. Often, when countries strive at all costs for sporting success, it smacks of a national over-compensation for other defects. Most of the Russian athletes have been banned from Rio because of a government-sponsored systematic doping regime and many of China’s successes look remarkably joyless. Romania used to dominate women’s gymnastics and now it doesn’t even have a team. But horror stories have since emerged about the harsh treatment meted out to young girls during the Communist era, including beatings, starvation rations and injections to stop menstruation. What is the point in “winning” if it involves systematic cheating or the destruction of young lives? I like to see people choose to participate in sport of their own free will and then compete with determination and enjoyment. I do not like to see governments use sport to pursue a political agenda, and I haven’t enjoyed seeing the disappearance of Malaysian hockey and the collapse of Malaysian football.

These Malaysian athletes have worked hard to be the best in their field. If they do win, then it is their success. I despair of football fans who say of their teams, “we” won this or that. “You” didn’t do anything except cheer or whine about “Arsene Out” and so on. I try hard to always say “they” won and not “we” won because I didn’t do anything during all the years when the athletes were training and competing. Well, except I didn’t watch, so technically I have played an important part in their success. But I don’t suppose anyone will give me a pension, which is probably life’s ultimate gold medal.

Dear Kam,
How are you doing in your Pokémon Go?
Millennial monster

It was a huge global hit a few years ago and yet now I can’t remember the tune for Gangnam Style. In fact, I can’t even remember if that is the song’s correct name. Maybe it’s because I’m at that age when I don’t remember things so easily anymore, or maybe it is a sign of an all-too-easily disposable media culture. And so, after a brief moment of excitement, I think I have gone past my personal Pokémon Go moment. For me it has probably slipped into the place where I keep my Harlem Shake and ice bucket challenge. I never really understood anything about the game and I may no longer find it very exciting but I still think Pokémon Go is a remarkably clever game that makes almost anywhere the field of play. And I’ve always been impressed and even moved by how a game managed to make so many people walk around outside and gather and meet complete strangers, with everyone pursuing the same goal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before. I wonder what the next thing will be?

Reprinted with the kind permission of