'Borrowed success' feels good now, hangover will be brutal

New Straits Times

2 days ago

KUALA LUMPUR: When Harimau Malaya walked out to face Vietnam in June, nine of the starting XI were either foreign-born or heritage players.
Nine.
In the 1980s, the only "import" in the national side was Singapore-born Razali Alias. However, he did not play representing Malaysia in an official A international.
Fast forward to today, and Peter Cklamovski's line-up boasts a cast that would make a continental club proud: new naturalised stars Joao Figueiredo, Rodrigo Holgado, Jon Irazabal, Facundo Garces, and second-half substitute Imanol Machuca all played their part in a thumping 4-0 demolition of Vietnam.
Malaysia now sit on the brink of qualifying for their second straight Asian Cup in 2027.
It's no accident.
Under former national coach Kim Pan Gon, the national team qualified for the 2023 Asian Cup on merit for the first time ever, ending decades of frustration.
Brendan Gan and Dion Cools' leadership, Matthew Davies' reliability, and the nous of Brazil-born Paulo Josue and Romel Morales had raised standards across the pitch.
For the first time in years, Malaysian football fans feel they are dining at Asia's top table or at least at the same buffet.
Basketball is taking the same road. The Malaysia Basketball Association hopes to have three fresh passports stamped in time for the SEA Games in December — Republic of Congo's Tychique Bosango, Nigerian Joseph Obasa, and Malaysian-American Aalia Carlson.
The plan? Close the gap in height and power, win medals, and maybe give local players a taste of competing alongside physical and technical upgrades.
Malaysia also had naturalised athletes in diving, athletics and table tennis in the past.
Globally, there's nothing new here. Qatar's 2019 and 2023 Asian Cup wins were spearheaded by players who had spent years in the country's famed Aspire Academy. Bahrain's athletics roster is dominated by East African-born runners.
Indonesia's football revival hinges on Dutch-born heritage players, while the Philippines' Gilas basketball team thrives on US-born Filipinos.
The Youth and Sports Ministry doesn't restrict naturalised players as long as they meet eligibility rules. But its minister, Hannah Yeoh has been blunt: bringing in imports must not come at the expense of growing local talent.
And here's the danger. It's easy to get addicted to quick fixes.
When a new striker from South America or a centre from Africa instantly improves results, it's tempting to keep importing — until the national jersey feels less like a reward for years of domestic slog and more like an open invitation for outsiders to step in.
The cracks are already showing — and they're widest in women's football.
The recent Women's U-20 Asian Cup qualifiers were brutal. Malaysia lost 3-0 to Iran, were humiliated 16-0 by Japan, and could only muster a 2-0 win over Guam — an island of fewer than 200,000 people.
Coach Cameron Ng summed up the thrashing by Japan perfectly: "girls versus women."
The gulf in class was obvious. Against Iran and Japan, the Young Tigresses looked physically outmatched, technically hesitant, and tactically a step behind. One penalty against Iran dribbled towards goal like a 10-year-old learning the sport.
Worse, the squad even had a few overseas-based Malaysians — yet the gap remained vast.
Japan's dominance comes from decades of grassroots investment, school competitions, and elite coaching.
Vietnam's women have reached the World Cup. Even Bangladesh have overtaken Malaysia by qualifying for next year's senior Asian Cup.
Naturalisation can be smart policy. Heritage players like Davies and Cools bring both elite experience and cultural connection.
But full naturalisation, giving passports to fill positions we can't develop locally, should be a stopgap, not the master plan.
The bigger question is whether Malaysia is using this "imported strength" window to fix the broken parts of the system.
The M-League has a decent structure, but year after year, clubs are crippled by financial problems.
Basketball's local talent pipeline struggles for height and athleticism. Women's football is still stuck in Asia's third tier, no matter how optimistic the press releases.
Meanwhile, Asia isn't waiting. Indonesia could make the 2026 FIFA World Cup. The Philippines are climbing FIBA's rankings. Qatar are permanent fixtures among Asia's football elite.
These nations didn't just import — they built around their imports.
If Malaysia want to keep climbing, our naturalised and heritage players must be the tip of the spear — not the whole weapon.
The imports will give us momentum, but without grassroots depth, youth development, and a financially stable domestic competition, the surge will fade when these players retire or move on.
The truth is simple: "borrowed success" feels good now, but if the local game stagnates underneath, the hangover will be brutal.
The question is, are we using this golden window to build our own or just renting it until the lease runs out?