My unabridged commentary piece on Indonesia's World Cup qualifier with Iran and all the nonsense surrounding it. The piece itself got kicked around a bit, what with the sports front being redesigned twice tonight. Enjoy!
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Indonesian Football Association officials watching Tuesday’s World Cup qualifier against Iran must have been proud.
After all, everything on display at Gelora Bung Karno was the culmination of their five months in charge of the country’s favorite sport.
The half-fit players, the nearly empty stands, the choppy pitch at the national stadium — all that and more is the legacy of chairman Djohar Arifin Husin and the new leadership at the association known as the PSSI. All the hand-waving and attempts to deflect blame that will inevitably follow should not obscure the fact that those in charge of Indonesian football have not put the country in position to succeed.
It should come as no surprise that the drumbeat to replace Wim Rijsbergen as coach of the senior national team is already underway. Like his predecessor Alfred Riedl, the Dutchman ruffled feathers when he made the apparent mistake of calling attention to the miasma of indiscipline, arrogance and entitlement surrounding the national team and the PSSI.
Rijsbergen has since moderated his tone, but his point remains the same. While he has not criticized his players in public, he has walked up to that line, informing the press on multiple occasions of the stories he could tell but not elaborating in the interest of “protecting the players.”
What he refuses to say speaks just as loudly, though.
“If there is no discipline outside the field, it’s impossible to be disciplined on the field.” “There must be a lot of talent in a country with 240 million people that is willing to be 100 percent professional.”
Those are not the words of a manager who feels he can rely on his players to show up — on time and sober — when called up to the national team.
To the PSSI, though, what outside observers see as legitimate gripes are just another example of a mouthy bule. Reports have emerged that Djohar will consider Rijsbergen’s position after the Southeast Asian Games, and rest assured that succession plans are already in place.
While the names at the PSSI may have changed, the organization itself is still a political beast and it is not difficult to pick out the favorite son. After the Indonesian Super League finished in June, the Under-23 team coached by Rahmad Darmawan played 16 friendlies ahead of the Games, a youth competition in an event unknown outside this region.
The senior team, which was trying to qualify for the World Cup — the pinnacle of football — played just three times. One of those was against the U-23 team, while the other two needed PSSI and government officials to call in favors to line up friendlies against Palestine and Jordan.
Somewhere along the way, the country that once boasted of plans to host the World Cup decided trying to qualify for the tournament was just too much of a hassle.
That Rahmad is in line to succeed Rijsbergen is beyond doubt. The question is how Djohar and his cronies will justify the switch. Lack of success? Not bringing new talent into the team? Unless the Dutchman’s brief includes uniting the political factions tearing Indonesian football asunder and reviving the domestic league, those charges are unfair.
Too expensive? Making a change would leave the PSSI paying for Riedl, Rijsbergen and the new coach. Poor crowds? It was the PSSI that signed off on the hostile takeover of Persija Jakarta, whose Jakmania supporters make up the bulk of Indonesia’s crowds at Gelora Bung Karno, and spurred the boycott that has left so many seats unfilled.
Indonesia has had six managers since 2000, not including repeat appearances by Ivan Kolev and Benny Dollo. Putting another new face on the senior team’s bench will do little to address the systemic problems holding back the nation.
Most of those problems are long-term concerns, though, and the current leadership would struggle to organize a bake sale. For now, the best thing the PSSI could do is focus on restarting the domestic league. Sacking Rijsbergen and denying any culpability on its part for Indonesian football’s woes will only further entrench a rotten status quo.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
So much for that
I guess I forgot where I worked. For a while there, I was under the impression that I'd be able to get out of the office and help with our coverage of the Southeast Asian Games. Of course, the unspoken second half of that sentence is "as long as we have enough people in the office." Given that I work in newspapers, you can imagine how infrequently that happens.
The SEA Games officially started on Friday, though soccer has been going for about a week and rowing was supposed to start on Thursday — supposed to, remember. It doesn't look like my byline will appear very often, though. I'm stuck in the office on Sunday and Monday covering for our international news guy, meaning I'll miss the start of men's and women's basketball, and I'll miss another day on Wednesday as well since one of our other chief copy editors has his day off. The last three days of the SEA Games — the 20th, 21st and 22nd — are out, too, because the other chief copy editor is taking a five-day break.
Of the 12 days of the SEA Games, I'm allowed out to cover events on five of them. It's really four since I'm apparently going to Indonesia's World Cup qualifier against Iran on Tuesday. It's a dead rubber, now that Indonesia is officially out after losing 4-0 in Doha, so the "win or be eliminated" angle isn't an option. Given the putrid attendance at the last few qualifiers and SEA Games matches — due in no small part to the ongoing Jakmania boycott — the atmosphere at Gelora Bung Karno might match its mausoleum-esque decor. (Yes, Gelora Bung Karno. They rearranged the SEA Games matches to free up the stadium, sparing Iran a trip to Papua.)
Honestly, I really shouldn't care that much. I've already told the higher-ups I won't renew my contract at its current terms, and as the odds of the company offering me a better salary are roughly equivalent to those of my getting married in the next week, it looks like my time here is at an end. My flights are already booked, and I'm going to start packing and paring down my things this weekend. You'd think I found some enjoyment in packing up my life and schlepping it long distances, given that I do it so often, but it really is a pain.
On a happier note, by this time tomorrow I should be in possession of my new laptop. The old one would've cost about $650 to fix, and since there happened to be an IT expo not too far away last weekend, I found a new one with more bells and whistles for about the same price. Plus, the new one has a 600 GB hard drive, so even after I get my old files transferred over (Bill Gates willing), it should take me at least three or four months to fill up all that space.
The SEA Games officially started on Friday, though soccer has been going for about a week and rowing was supposed to start on Thursday — supposed to, remember. It doesn't look like my byline will appear very often, though. I'm stuck in the office on Sunday and Monday covering for our international news guy, meaning I'll miss the start of men's and women's basketball, and I'll miss another day on Wednesday as well since one of our other chief copy editors has his day off. The last three days of the SEA Games — the 20th, 21st and 22nd — are out, too, because the other chief copy editor is taking a five-day break.
Of the 12 days of the SEA Games, I'm allowed out to cover events on five of them. It's really four since I'm apparently going to Indonesia's World Cup qualifier against Iran on Tuesday. It's a dead rubber, now that Indonesia is officially out after losing 4-0 in Doha, so the "win or be eliminated" angle isn't an option. Given the putrid attendance at the last few qualifiers and SEA Games matches — due in no small part to the ongoing Jakmania boycott — the atmosphere at Gelora Bung Karno might match its mausoleum-esque decor. (Yes, Gelora Bung Karno. They rearranged the SEA Games matches to free up the stadium, sparing Iran a trip to Papua.)
Honestly, I really shouldn't care that much. I've already told the higher-ups I won't renew my contract at its current terms, and as the odds of the company offering me a better salary are roughly equivalent to those of my getting married in the next week, it looks like my time here is at an end. My flights are already booked, and I'm going to start packing and paring down my things this weekend. You'd think I found some enjoyment in packing up my life and schlepping it long distances, given that I do it so often, but it really is a pain.
On a happier note, by this time tomorrow I should be in possession of my new laptop. The old one would've cost about $650 to fix, and since there happened to be an IT expo not too far away last weekend, I found a new one with more bells and whistles for about the same price. Plus, the new one has a 600 GB hard drive, so even after I get my old files transferred over (Bill Gates willing), it should take me at least three or four months to fill up all that space.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Who's sorry now?
In a rare moment of decisiveness for me, I'm taking the trip to New Zealand that I should've taken 12 months ago. When I left my gig in Beijing, I only came to Jakarta to clear my head and catch up with a few folks. While I was open to a job offer, I wasn't necessarily looking for one — the plan was to tour a couple schools in New Zealand before flying back to the US to start my transition out of newspapers.
It didn't work out that way, of course. Whether I'm soft-hearted, soft-headed or just plain soft, I said yes when the people at Globe Towers asked me to come back and help them out of a jam. I never actually signed a physical contract (details, details), but they asked me for a year and come December 6 I'll have given them a year. The next night, I'm scheduled to fly from Jakarta to Wellington (connecting in Sydney) and spend a little more than a week in the Land of Kiwi, decompressing after a year in the Big Durian and touring prospective schools.
Except it can never be that simple. My flights are all booked on Qantas, a decision that is looking pretty silly at the moment.
If the Gillard government does intervene, I imagine Tony Abbott and his opposition friends will wail about the government's anti-business practices, but the world of Aussie politics 'twas ever thus. I just know I'm out $1,100 if Qantas isn't up and flying again by early December — the only reason I'm able to make this trip is because I'm relatively close for the moment. I told my parents I'd be back in Nebraska before Christmas and — barring a head-turning, must-start-immediately job offer — I'm not of a mind to disappoint them.
It didn't work out that way, of course. Whether I'm soft-hearted, soft-headed or just plain soft, I said yes when the people at Globe Towers asked me to come back and help them out of a jam. I never actually signed a physical contract (details, details), but they asked me for a year and come December 6 I'll have given them a year. The next night, I'm scheduled to fly from Jakarta to Wellington (connecting in Sydney) and spend a little more than a week in the Land of Kiwi, decompressing after a year in the Big Durian and touring prospective schools.
Except it can never be that simple. My flights are all booked on Qantas, a decision that is looking pretty silly at the moment.
Qantas Airways grounded its global fleet Saturday, suddenly locking out striking workers after weeks of flight disruptions an executive said could close down the world's 10th largest airline piece by piece
I went with Qantas after an Australian co-worker assured me the strike was not that serious and international flights weren't affected (in fairness, the latter was true at the time). I've not had the pleasure of Alan Joyce's company, but this maneuver and his subsequent statements smack of a heady cocktail of desperation and prickishness.The Australian government called for an emergency arbitration hearing, which was adjourned early Sunday morning after hearing evidence from the unions and airline. It will resume Sunday afternoon when the government will argue that the airline be ordered to fly in Australia's economic interests.
If the Gillard government does intervene, I imagine Tony Abbott and his opposition friends will wail about the government's anti-business practices, but the world of Aussie politics 'twas ever thus. I just know I'm out $1,100 if Qantas isn't up and flying again by early December — the only reason I'm able to make this trip is because I'm relatively close for the moment. I told my parents I'd be back in Nebraska before Christmas and — barring a head-turning, must-start-immediately job offer — I'm not of a mind to disappoint them.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Breaking up is hard to do
But breaking away? That's becoming de rigeur around these parts. Less than a year after the unsanctioned Indonesian Premier League decided to break away from the officially recognized Indonesian Super League and form its own competition, a handful of former ISL clubs have decided to break away from the now-official IPL and reconstitute the ISL.
In short — only because it's almost 5 a.m. and I really need to get to bed — Persipura Jayapura, Persija Jakarta, Sriwijaya FC, PSPS Pekanbaru, Pelita Jaya, Persiwa Wamena, Persela Lamongan, Deltras Sidoarjo, Persiba Balikpapan, Persisam Samarinda, Mitra Kukar and Persidafon Dafonsoro decided they didn't like the new league (or at least who was running it) and chose to walk away from the IPL. The Indonesian FA and the current league organizer insist they have 18 clubs signed up and ready to play in their league, but at least six of those clubs have come out and denied they ever re-registered. The now rebel ISL will start on Dec. 1 and — brace yourselves — will be broadcast by the Bakrie-owned ANTV, which had a 10-year deal to show the ISL before the new PSSI leadership decided it didn't like ANTV's face (or some such thing).
Persib is still on the fence if you believe the quote in the article, but given that the ISL organizer is offering more money, it's a pretty sure bet where they'll cast their lot. The IPL, meanwhile, can count Arema Indonesia, Bontang FC, Persebaya Surabaya, Persema Malang, Persiba Bantul, Persibo Bojonegoro, Persijap Jepara, Persiraja Aceh, PSM Makassar, PSMS Medan and Semen Padang among its number. The Asian Football Confederation says a league has to have a minimum of 10 clubs to operate, so technically both the ISL and IPL meet that requirement. The new ISL organizer says the league won't be a "breakaway" competition as it will operate within PSSI, AFC and FIFA statutes (he claims), but the odds of the PSSI leadership jettisoning the league they've created and giving in to the clubs' demands (and by so doing losing quite a bit of face) are remote at best.
At this point, the conflict breaks down into those in the Arifin Panigoro camp who back the new PSSI leadership and the IPL vs. those in the Bakrie camp who want to bring back the ISL and play by the old rules. Who loses when two titans of industry and their respective cronies get into a public dick-measuring contest over who should run Indonesia's most popular sport? Only the players, supporters and everybody who makes all or some of their living off of soccer. You know, the little people.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Aburizal Bakrie — the man who heads the Bakrie family, its business empire and the Golkar Party — has all but been nominated to run as his party's nominee for president in the 2014 election and could certainly use a nationwide platform like the ISL as he shores up his support among the unwashed masses. I'm sure his motives are pure, though.
In short — only because it's almost 5 a.m. and I really need to get to bed — Persipura Jayapura, Persija Jakarta, Sriwijaya FC, PSPS Pekanbaru, Pelita Jaya, Persiwa Wamena, Persela Lamongan, Deltras Sidoarjo, Persiba Balikpapan, Persisam Samarinda, Mitra Kukar and Persidafon Dafonsoro decided they didn't like the new league (or at least who was running it) and chose to walk away from the IPL. The Indonesian FA and the current league organizer insist they have 18 clubs signed up and ready to play in their league, but at least six of those clubs have come out and denied they ever re-registered. The now rebel ISL will start on Dec. 1 and — brace yourselves — will be broadcast by the Bakrie-owned ANTV, which had a 10-year deal to show the ISL before the new PSSI leadership decided it didn't like ANTV's face (or some such thing).
Persib is still on the fence if you believe the quote in the article, but given that the ISL organizer is offering more money, it's a pretty sure bet where they'll cast their lot. The IPL, meanwhile, can count Arema Indonesia, Bontang FC, Persebaya Surabaya, Persema Malang, Persiba Bantul, Persibo Bojonegoro, Persijap Jepara, Persiraja Aceh, PSM Makassar, PSMS Medan and Semen Padang among its number. The Asian Football Confederation says a league has to have a minimum of 10 clubs to operate, so technically both the ISL and IPL meet that requirement. The new ISL organizer says the league won't be a "breakaway" competition as it will operate within PSSI, AFC and FIFA statutes (he claims), but the odds of the PSSI leadership jettisoning the league they've created and giving in to the clubs' demands (and by so doing losing quite a bit of face) are remote at best.
At this point, the conflict breaks down into those in the Arifin Panigoro camp who back the new PSSI leadership and the IPL vs. those in the Bakrie camp who want to bring back the ISL and play by the old rules. Who loses when two titans of industry and their respective cronies get into a public dick-measuring contest over who should run Indonesia's most popular sport? Only the players, supporters and everybody who makes all or some of their living off of soccer. You know, the little people.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Aburizal Bakrie — the man who heads the Bakrie family, its business empire and the Golkar Party — has all but been nominated to run as his party's nominee for president in the 2014 election and could certainly use a nationwide platform like the ISL as he shores up his support among the unwashed masses. I'm sure his motives are pure, though.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Backpedaling
Stop me if you've heard this one: the Indonesian Premier League is in chaos again.
Wednesday was the deadline for the 24 original IPL clubs — 14 from the Indonesian Super League, 10 promoted from the second division and three rebel clubs welcomed back into the fold — to "re-register" with league administrators. Apparently not everyone was keen on the idea. Persisam Samarinda, Persela Lamongan, Persiba Balikpapan, PSPS Pekanbaru, Pelita Jaya and Deltras Sidoarjo did not send in their re-registration forms and have been left out of the new, slimmed-down IPL. I've yet to hear any reasons why they did didn't re-register, but I have a feeling their dissatisfaction with the PSSI and league administrator has something to do with it.
If we just go by this, the IPL, whenever it starts, will consist of eight former ISL clubs — Persipura Jayapura (defending champion), Arema Indonesia (under new, PSSI-approved ownership), Persija Jakarta (see previous), Semen Padang, Sriwijaya FC, Persib Bandung, Persiwa Wamena and Persijap Jepara — the seven clubs promoted, by means fair or foul, from the Premier Division — Persidafon Dafonsoro, Mitra Kukar, Persiba Bantul, Persiraja Banda Aceh, Bontang FC, PSMS Medan and Persebaya Surabaya — and former rebels PSM Makassar, Persema Malang and Persibo Bojonegoro.
Or will it? Persidafon's manager denies re-registering for the IPL, and I'm told PSMS would rather play in the second division than the IPL. More details will emerge in the coming days, especially as former league administrator Liga Indonesia (which partly kicked off this latest kerfuffle) has a shareholders' meeting today. It's worth remembering that trimming the IPL to 18 teams was one of the demands the "Group of 14" made in exchange for staying in the new league. Reinstating PTLI, giving clubs a 99 percent stake in the administrator and forking over a Rp 2 billion annual subsidy to each club will be more difficult, I imagine.
There might not be anything more sinister behind it, but at first glance it's as though the IPL asked "which clubs could we lose and suffer the smallest hit in terms of sponsor dollars and supporter eyeballs?" Aside from Persisam (sixth place), the departing teams all finished ninth or lower in last season's IPL and don't exactly command huge crowds. The PSSI would lose no end of face if it had to kick back one of the 10 clubs coming in from outside the ISL, and given how it blatantly disregarded league rules to promote PSMS and Persebaya, getting rid of big names like Persija, Arema, Persib, Sriwijaya and Persipura was never going to happen.
League patron and power behind the throne Arifin Panigoro gets to stick it his mortal enemy, the Bakrie family (which owns Pelita Jaya), as well. Once that pesky business over the broadcasting contract with ANTV gets cleared up, the Bakrie presence in Indonesian soccer will be all but eradicated. It's good to see some traditions — like using the country's favorite sport to settle personal vendettas between the rich and powerful — never change.
Wednesday was the deadline for the 24 original IPL clubs — 14 from the Indonesian Super League, 10 promoted from the second division and three rebel clubs welcomed back into the fold — to "re-register" with league administrators. Apparently not everyone was keen on the idea. Persisam Samarinda, Persela Lamongan, Persiba Balikpapan, PSPS Pekanbaru, Pelita Jaya and Deltras Sidoarjo did not send in their re-registration forms and have been left out of the new, slimmed-down IPL. I've yet to hear any reasons why they did didn't re-register, but I have a feeling their dissatisfaction with the PSSI and league administrator has something to do with it.
If we just go by this, the IPL, whenever it starts, will consist of eight former ISL clubs — Persipura Jayapura (defending champion), Arema Indonesia (under new, PSSI-approved ownership), Persija Jakarta (see previous), Semen Padang, Sriwijaya FC, Persib Bandung, Persiwa Wamena and Persijap Jepara — the seven clubs promoted, by means fair or foul, from the Premier Division — Persidafon Dafonsoro, Mitra Kukar, Persiba Bantul, Persiraja Banda Aceh, Bontang FC, PSMS Medan and Persebaya Surabaya — and former rebels PSM Makassar, Persema Malang and Persibo Bojonegoro.
Or will it? Persidafon's manager denies re-registering for the IPL, and I'm told PSMS would rather play in the second division than the IPL. More details will emerge in the coming days, especially as former league administrator Liga Indonesia (which partly kicked off this latest kerfuffle) has a shareholders' meeting today. It's worth remembering that trimming the IPL to 18 teams was one of the demands the "Group of 14" made in exchange for staying in the new league. Reinstating PTLI, giving clubs a 99 percent stake in the administrator and forking over a Rp 2 billion annual subsidy to each club will be more difficult, I imagine.
There might not be anything more sinister behind it, but at first glance it's as though the IPL asked "which clubs could we lose and suffer the smallest hit in terms of sponsor dollars and supporter eyeballs?" Aside from Persisam (sixth place), the departing teams all finished ninth or lower in last season's IPL and don't exactly command huge crowds. The PSSI would lose no end of face if it had to kick back one of the 10 clubs coming in from outside the ISL, and given how it blatantly disregarded league rules to promote PSMS and Persebaya, getting rid of big names like Persija, Arema, Persib, Sriwijaya and Persipura was never going to happen.
League patron and power behind the throne Arifin Panigoro gets to stick it his mortal enemy, the Bakrie family (which owns Pelita Jaya), as well. Once that pesky business over the broadcasting contract with ANTV gets cleared up, the Bakrie presence in Indonesian soccer will be all but eradicated. It's good to see some traditions — like using the country's favorite sport to settle personal vendettas between the rich and powerful — never change.
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