Inside the football squad that made Singapore believe again

I have never thought of myself as a football person. Not in the way that counts. I’m not so familiar with formations, and I’m not someone who tracks fixtures, or feels the specific heartbreak of a last-minute concession. My relationship with the game was always peripheral: background noise on a Saturday, snippets of commentary from the living room, the occasional glance at a screen.

But then, slowly, it started to shift. My mother has been watching the Singapore national team by herself on weeknights for years – quietly, with the kind of focused attention I recognise from when she reads. A few friends, ones I wouldn’t have pegged as football people, started sending links and voice notes after matches. And then, in November last year, I happened to be in Hong Kong, where our national football team was playing an away match against Hong Kong at Kai Tak Sports Park in Kowloon.

I wasn’t there for the game, but the game was everywhere. The result moved through the city like a current: Singapore had won 2-1. The local fans were visibly distraught, while a small group of Singapore fans present at the stadium were moved close to tears.

It was a win very few expected to happen. And in doing so, we qualified for the 2027 AFC Asian Cup based on merit for the first time in our footballing history – and it’s the first time since 1984 that Singapore would compete on that stage. I remember reading the score on my phone and feeling, to my own surprise, something.

That something is what brought me here.

The Resurgence of Local Football

To follow the Singapore national team, also known as the Lions, has historically required a particular kind of faith. For years, Singapore football existed in an uncomfortable in-between: too visible to ignore, too inconsistent to fully invest in. Critics were loud, especially on social media. Crowds were modest. The narrative was one of perpetual almost.

But the Kai Tak result did not come from nowhere. Ranked 155th in the world entering the 2027 AFC Asian Cup qualifiers, Singapore was placed in Group C alongside Bangladesh, India and Hong Kong. The win over Hong Kong on Nov 18, 2025 sealed it – a 2-1 comeback in front of a crowd that had not expected to witness history.

What I know now, having spent an afternoon with five of the men who played a part in that campaign, is that the result was not a surprise to them. It was the culmination of years – years of training through National Service obligations, career decisions that required choosing football over stability, and the particular pressure of representing a country that has historically been quicker to doubt its athletes than to celebrate them.

Long after our interview, I found myself thinking about something Hami said, almost in passing, about what he’d tell someone who has never watched football before: “Just come down and watch, and support us.” There is something in that. It’s the gentle exasperation of someone who loves something deeply and wants to share it without pressure.

That, I think, is the invitation that Singapore football is extending right now. Not to convert anyone. Not to demand a level of devotion that the sport hasn’t yet earned from everyone. Just: Come and see. Come and see what it looks like when footballers from this small country put on the national jersey, and play on the biggest stage they’ve ever been on. Come and see what it has cost them to get there. Come and see what they’re carrying – not just expectations, but Singapore’s pride.

Farhan Zulkifli

He only started playing football in secondary school. A few years later, he was making history in the Singapore Premier League. How does someone rise that fast and what keeps them grounded when they do?

Glenn Kweh

At 15, he walked away from the game he loved. What happened next is the kind of story people said wasn’t possible.

Shah Shahiran

He’s one of Singapore football’s most dependable names. But behind the quiet exterior is someone who has felt the weight of every contract, every injury, and every match. What does it really cost to be a professional footballer in Singapore? Shah tells his story.

Hami Syahin

He doesn’t read the comments. He doesn’t post on match days. When the final whistle blows, he goes home to his family and switches everything off. But don’t mistake the quiet for indifference. Hami Syahin is one of the most dedicated people in Singapore football, and his story will make you see the game differently.

Jacob Mahler

Two ACL tears. Two comebacks. There were moments, he admits, when it got very dark. But what Jacob Mahler found at rock bottom wasn’t defeat, it was perspective. And that might be what makes him the most compelling player in the room.

PHOTOGRAPHY: DARREN GABRIEL LEOW
CREATIVE DIRECTION & STYLING: LENA KAMARUDIN ASSISTED BY: CHARIS GAN
ART DIRECTION: RAY TICSAY
HAIR: MANISA TAN
GROOMING: ZHOU AIYI, USING SHISEIDO