Pic from bharian.com.myI'd been off duty Wednesday, then spent all of daylight yesterday working on my NPC projects and spent a good chunk of the day at the National Motorsport Forum. I'd not had time to look at any news.
I walked into the office to deliver my takes on the forum unknowingly. Nobody had informed me of this. My boss Vijesh then told me I need not do too many stories because a page of our paper would be dedicated to Datuk Ho Koh Chye. "What?!" I asked.
"Ho Koh Chye died yesterday," Vijesh told me. "Don't tell me you didn't know."
I honestly didn't. But I could feel my heart slowly crumbling to pieces inside me as I swiftly got down to work. This was unthinkable. One of the greatest men, greatest sportsmen I'd ever known had died. And he was a good friend of mine. A good friend of everybody he knew.
He was, in my earlier years as a sportswriter, a New Straits Times columnist and I even remember that I had the honour of 'cleaning up' one of his final Horoscope pieces, but I must say his English was immaculate, unlike mine, so it was an easy job of just correcting house style and so on.
I have the utmost respect for the man.
Unlike those current instant Datuks, we all rushed to congratulate him upon finding out he'd finally received the honour on Oct 24, 2003. The former national hockey team captain truly deserved every letter in his Datukship. In fact, for his untiring service to Malaysian sport, he deserves more.
My recent encounters with the great man were mostly at the Olympic Council of Malaysia or at the connecting Olympic coffee house during his tenure as chef-de-mission for the Olympic contingent.
"Arnaz, come let's sit over there. You've got to get me up to date with cycling," I remember that day about a month prior to the Beijing Olympics very clearly. It was four teh tariks later that the chat ended. But talking sport to the Datuk was always a pleasure. I believe all those chats I'd had with him along the years, had contributed to making me even a little bit wiser about what I do.
He did share a lot of worries about where our hockey was heading. But Datuk was always the gentleman. Unlike me, he had a more polished and subtle, but effective way of criticising, and not a tad less passionate.
"You mustn't stop thinking critically. If you see something wrong, write. Otherwise nobody will know. Just do your job," were some of the Datuk's words that stick in my mind. He sounded like a boss, but meant it in friendship. I regret that I sometimes do forget those words.
Of course, we sort of shared an alliance with NST, and the Datuk always liked to see me come up with highly critical stories, especially in those early years after I was first introduced to him by former boss Lazarus Rokk. He'd always let me know what he thought of issues I raised through my writing whenever we met in the field.
I can't write enough to tell you about this great life that has left us after just 66 years in this world. Datuk passed away in the midst of recovery from a prostate operation on Wednesday.
I'll be there to say my goodbyes to him at the St. Iganatius Church in Kelana Jaya in the morning. Tears flow down my cheek as I end this piece. We've all lost a great man. A really great man.
Below, one of Datuk Ho Koh Chye's final columns that appeared in the NST. Taken from NSTP archives.
Publication :
NST
Edition :
2*
Date :
16/10/2003
Page Number :
22
Headline :
Players now have Lissek, let's see if they can perform
Byline :
By Ho Koh Chye
Column Name :
Horoscope
OBSERVERS are having a difficult time trying to make sense of
contradicting signals emerging from the Paul Lissek saga.
Ask any member of the hockey fraternity about what is going on and the
response is a shrug of the shoulders.
There is public uncertainty too."How can lah? One moment Lissek is out
and next moment he's in again. A typical knee-jerk reaction. Chinese say
it's like children playing with sand," commented a stranger who walked up
to me while I was having a `chapati' at Tiger Jit's.
In the last couple of weeks, the rumour mill had churned out many
interesting stories. One was that some quarters in the MHF felt Lissek was
not the magician he was made out to be and told him so during a discussion
halfway through the Asia Cup. Apparently it was the spark that set off the
chain reaction.
Another was that MHF was hard-pressed to find a replacement for Lissek
when he was re-assigned to do development work. They were unwilling, it
seems, to make a decision on a number of available contenders, so they
appointed Yahya Atan as the interim coach pending a decision of an
interview Board. But many wondered how serious the MHF was in addressing
such an urgent issue when the selection of Lissek's successor was not even
time-tabled.
The most disturbing rumour had to do with the possible pull-out of
players if Lissek was not reinstated.
Some critics believe that it is not impossible but difficult for local
coaches to step into Lissek's shoes at this stage of the team's
preparation. Lack of experience, time and the fear of failing to help the
team qualify, have been listed as constraints by the local coaches.
Yahya turned down the offer because he was afraid of being rejected by
the interview Board one month into the job. Who can blame him? How can he
do a good job with the Sword of Damocles hanging over him? The point is,
how can you build confidence in local coaches when they are treated in
this manner?
The players pleaded for a hearing. They want to make it to the Athens
Olympics and believe that the man who can help them get there is Lissek.
What's wrong with that?
Players like to work with coaches who can make winners out of them.
The Manchester United players stick it out with Alex Ferguson not
because he is a racehorse owner or a nice guy.
MHF rejected their plea and they went to the NSC. The act was
misconstrued as defiance.
Speaking up should never be mistaken as defiance or disloyalty. It is
having the courage to stand up and be counted. Give them a hearing and
then decide what is best for the game, like the England FA did in the Rio
Ferdinand case. We should stop treating athletes like kids.
Lissek's critics are not entirely wrong either. The statistics have not
been too convincing. In a nutshell, they portray him as being too
cautious, negative and unimaginative in his approach to the game.
It is a well accepted fact that coaches are sacked when results do not
go their way.
Lissek is no exception. I am sure he took on the job fully realising
that criticism, condemnation and removal would be his constant companions.
Many reasons are attributed to the failure of a coach. Among them are a
lack of tactical sense, insufficient on-the-job experience, poor
management and motivational skills, and a lack of quality players.
Lissek's players say that he is a top-class coach who is able to
formulate effective game plans and is good at getting the best out of them
individually and collectively. So the most important people in the
equation think he can take them to the Promised Land. And so be it.
What about the players? It is no use having the best coach and support
in the world when the players can't perform or deliver. Have we over-
exaggerated the quality of our players?
The players wanted Lissek. They've got him. Now let's see whether they
can together rise to the challenge in six months' time.
