Kelong Kings: Confessions of the world's most prolific match-fixer (26 page)

The last match that
we fixed at the Inter Continental Cup was Nigeria vs Iraq. The
fixture had no real bearing for Nigeria as they had already qualified
for the next round of the tournament. The Nigerians were upset with
the cup's organizers because there were no appearance fees nor any
prize money for the champions. I decided to use their discontent,
assembled their delegation and spoke to them frankly.

"We want you to
go for a draw, 0-0", I said. "Do not put the ball in the
net and lock your defense. No goals, 50 thousand after the match".

The Nigerians agreed
to do business and play for a goalless draw so we decided to go for
Under. I was sitting in the stands watching the match: first half,
0-0, and Nigeria had put a lock on the game. We even arranged for a
guy to stand by the door to the changing room and remind the players
not to score as they ran out onto the pitch for the second half.
Then, in the 93
^rd
minute,
as I was already savoring my win, there was a foul in the Iraqi
penalty box. For an instant, the referee was in two-minds on whether
to award the penalty shot or not, then he brought the whistle to his
mouth and pointed his finger at the penalty spot. Fuck. I was pretty
confident that our player, a short Nigerian guy named John who was
well aware of the fix, was not going to score. But maybe we hadn't
drilled it into him well enough and part of him still wanted to
impress the coach in view of the selection for the upcoming Beijing
Olympics. John positioned the ball on the spot, took a short run-up
then sent the ball flying straight into the net. Fuck.

After the match, the
entire Nigerian delegation was left with heads hanging in
disappointment. The 50 thousand that I had promised would have been
shared among them but now there was nothing to share save for a
meaningless victory. I met John in the hotel's lobby on the following
day.

"Why the fuck
did you score?" I asked him.

John just sat there
and looked at me.

"Because of
you", I pointed my finger in his face, "we lost money and
nobody in your team got paid".

After that match,
John became a pariah in the Nigerian team; the coach dropped him and
he wasn't selected to go to the Olympics in Beijing. Soon thereafter,
I remember reading a statement by John in the papers.

"They didn't
take me to the Olympics", he claimed, "because I scored a
goal against Iraq".

But
nobody
really cared.

When
I returned to Singapore from Malaysia, word of the Togo vs Australia
match that we had canceled had spread in the market. People were very
surprised to learn that such a thing could be done and they were all
extremely impressed. Even Dan Tan, Murugan's boss, had heard the
news.

"He
accomplished this?" Dan asked Murugan, "This thing is
perfect. I want to meet this Wilson Raj".

I had known of Tan
Seet Eng, aka Dan Tan, as Ah Blur, when he was throwing bets for Pal
and Bryan in the early 90's but had never met him in person. Ah Blur.
The name fit him well; it was fucking tailor-made for him. When we
met at the Goodwood Park Hotel in Singapore in mid-2008, I thought:
"This fucker looks blurry".

If you saw him you
too would understand; he'd be sitting there in front of you
daydreaming, then you'd suddenly call him and he'd snap out of his
reverie and be like: "What?"

Blurry
mother-fucker.

"Hi, I'm Dan",
he introduced himself.

"OK", I
said.

"I've known
about you for a long time", he continued.

Dan was a
Chinese-Singaporean with roundish features and, although he was about
my same age, had a boyish-looking face, much like a child's; he was
very well-versed in English and had in-depth knowledge of the
gambling milieu.

"I've heard
your name before too", I said, "but we've never met. I knew
you as Ah Blur".

We began to chat and
I found that Ah Blur was acquainted with all the old friends from the
Jalan Besar stadium. He didn't attend the matches but was already in
the betting circle as a bookmaker when I used to hang out at Jalan
Besar, so he knew the Chinese bookies and the punters who usually
spent their time there.

During the early
90's, while working for Pal, Ah Blur could pick up the telephone and
bet two million dollars on a single game. At that time he had become
very close to Bryan, Pal's second-in-command, and was helping him
throw Malaysia Cup bets behind Pal's back. Then, sometime in 1994,
during the World Cup in the United States, Bryan fucked Ah Blur up. I
was told that Bryan threw close to 1.5 million dollars on a Russia
game and couldn't pay up so he went missing. Ah Blur,
who
had placed Bryan's wagers, also had to flee from
Singapore and hide in Thailand while Bryan's creditors looked for him
high and low.

"I got divorced
because of that mother-fucker Bryan", Ah Blur told me as we
shared old memories. "He borrowed 100 thousand dollars from my
father-in-law and never paid him back. Because of him, my first wife
didn't want to have anything to do with me anymore. Bryan destroyed
my family; my wife left me because of him".

From Thailand, Ah
Blur had managed to contact Bryan's creditors and negotiate a
solution.

"I will give
you some settlement, some installment payment", he told them and
was able to return to Singapore.

Once home, Ah Blur
continued to move around with Bryan until he was arrested for illegal
bookmaking in horse races in 1998; he even shared a cell with Pal at
one point in time. Since Pal couldn't venture outside Southeast Asia
while Bryan could, Ah Blur became Bryan's boy and kept his books, ran
errands for him and carried his bag when Bryan gambled his money away
in casinos.

"Give me 50
thousand", Bryan would tell Ah Blur with an outstretched arm.

"OK, boss".

Back in the 90s, Ah
Blur would not have been able to point to Italy on a world map; it
was Bryan who widened his horizons and gave him knowledge of the
outside world. By the time I met him, Ah Blur was not teaming up with
Bryan anymore. Although he was still broke, he had become Dan Tan the
boss.

"So, Wilson",
Dan asked, "what can you do?"

"I have a good
relationship with Lebanon", I said. "Their next game is in
June this year against Singapore in Beirut. It's a 2010 FIFA World
Cup qualifier; an official match".

I had already spoken
over the telephone with the Lebanese players that I had met at the
Singapore airport and they had agreed to do business.

"Would you like
to do this match?" I asked Dan.

"No", he
said. "I don't want to do this match".

"Is it OK with
you if I bring it to Harry then?" I asked.

"Let Harry do
it", Dan conceded.

Dan and Harry had
done business together before but they didn't really trust one
another.

"I passed a
project over to Harry through Mega once", Dan explained, "and
told the mother-fucker to play 20 thousand per game for me but he
didn't play anything; he didn't place any of my bets. Let Harry do
Lebanon on his own. What else have you got?"

"OK", I
proposed, "let me go to South Africa. I've got a couple of
matches there".

Dan bought tickets
to South Africa for Murugan and I. Once there, we traveled to
Bloemfontein, Free State, where Ghana was set to play against Lesotho
on June 8
^th
, 2008,
in yet another 2010 FIFA World Cup qualifier. In Bloemfontein,
Murugan and I met the Lesotho players. Among them, I recognized some
familiar faces that I had done business with during the 2007 Merdeka
Cup in Malaysia. Within hours I managed to win three or four of them
to our cause.

"Ghana must win
by three goals", I dictated.

"OK", they
replied, "we are ready".

We didn't give the
Lesotho players any money ahead of the match because they had already
dealt business with me and knew that I would not default with the
payments. Dan was doing the betting from Singapore. The match
started, Ghana 1-0, Ghana 2-0, Ghana 3-0. Then one of the Ghanaian
players, Agogo something, missed an open sitter and all of a sudden,
with two minutes left to go, Lesotho footed a shot from forty meters,
3-1. Lesotho then proceeded to net a second goal a minute later, 3-2.
The game backfired and we lost. How the fuck can Lesotho score two
goals against Ghana? Unfortunately, we didn't have any strikers on
our side, so, if they happened to score, there wasn't much that we
could do about it; it was just bad luck. I called Dan.

"Fuck", I
said to him. "It was a fluke goal that started it all. What am I
supposed to do? You tell me. Two goals in the last two minutes of the
match. Lesotho scoring twice against Ghana, it's unbelievable".

After the match,
Murugan and I returned to Johannesburg. Dan had given us a credit
card to use for travel expenses and we abused it to the hilt. After
that, Dan never made the mistake of giving us another card.

Our second match,
South Africa vs Sierra Leone on June 21
^st
in Pretoria, was yet another 2010 FIFA World Cup
qualifier. We approached the Sierra Leone team and spoke to their
goalkeeper and to two of their back-line defenders on the eve of the
match. We handed the goalie a five thousand dollar deposit and
promised more money to come after the game. In 2008, the market rate
for players was around 20 thousand per match for a goalkeeper and 10
thousand for each of the defenders. As Murugan and I spoke to the
players, we could tell that their level of commitment was not 100
percent. They were listening to our words but were thinking: "If
it happens, we take the money, if it doesn't, we don't".

We sensed their
unconvinced disposition but had nothing to lose. After such a long
trip we were not going to cancel the match and go home empty-handed.
We weren't going to be so loyal to Dan as to say: "Hey Dan,
these guys are not fully convinced, let's drop the match".

We took the gamble
and tried our luck. South Africa was supposed to win but they
couldn't go beyond a draw, 0-0. Given their wealth and
infrastructure, South Africa should have been the top team in the
African continent but, instead, they were hopeless. We lost money but
had secured a relationship with an official from the Sierra Leone FA,
a man called Abu Bakar. I saved his telephone number and e-mail for
future reference.

Dan had refused to
take on the Lebanon vs Singapore 2010 FIFA World Cup qualifier in
Beirut so, before leaving for South Africa, I had arranged for Mega
to deal with Harry for this game. Since I could not attend the match
in person, Mega and I had decided to tell Harry that the fix was
being arranged by a contact of ours from Oman, a man named Rashid.

"OK, Mega",
I had instructed him, "I spoke to the guys in Lebanon, they are
ready. You go down there, see the players, and do business with
Harry. You tell him that Rashid will be there in my stead".

Mega was in charge
and the match materialized; Lebanon lost to Singapore 2-1 and Harry
was going to deliver our cut together with the money for the Lebanese
players on the next day in Doha, Qatar. I was still in South Africa
and I didn't want to fly back to Singapore so I diverted Dan's
attention to Qatar.

"Dan", I
suggested, "Harry did good business in Lebanon, now I need to go
there and take the team back from him or else we are going to lose
it. Change my ticket from Singapore to Doha; I will travel from there
to Beirut and reclaim the Lebanese team before their next match in
Vietnam".

Lebanon was set to
play their opening 2011 Asian Football Confederation (AFC) Asian Cup
qualifier in Hanoi in January 2009. Dan changed my ticket and I flew
to Doha, Qatar. The place was too hot, 50 degrees in the shade; even
wearing
only
a singlet was too much for such heat. In Doha I met Mega
and picked up the money Harry had sent over, then I went to watch a
local football match. There was a big-league game going on with quite
a few star players on the pitch. In Qatar they pay big money to lure
aged celebrity footballers to play but there are no spectators to
watch the matches. As I paced around the stadium I saw two sheikhs
lying down on a sofa, each with a white pillow and a cup of tea in
their hand, following the match on television with the actual teams
on the pitch just a few steps away. People pay crazy money to witness
footballers in action and the players were right there, within sight,
but the sheikhs preferred to lay on their couches and watch the match
on a screen.