The question of whether the Singapore national football team, the Lions, can rise again is one that tugs at the heart of every local football fan, myself included. Having followed their journey from the highs of the AFF Suzuki Cup triumphs in 1998, 2004, 2005, 2007, and 2012 to the prolonged struggles of the past decade, it’s a topic I approach with a mix of stubborn hope and clear-eyed realism. The recent news cycle, particularly the confirmation from Philippine coach Tim Cone regarding the availability of key player Quentin Cheng, or as we know him, QMB, for the November window, oddly enough, frames our current predicament perfectly. "Yes, we assume he is, yes," Cone said. That statement, so casual and assured about a player central to another nation’s plans, underscores a chronic issue for Singapore: our reliance on and often anxious speculation about naturalized talent, while the foundational systems seem to perpetually lag.
Let’s be honest about the current challenges; they are multifaceted and deeply entrenched. The domestic Singapore Premier League (SPL), despite pockets of excitement, struggles with inconsistent attendance, averaging perhaps only 1,200 to 1,500 fans per match in a non-“Big Three” game, and a perceived gap in intensity. This directly impacts the pipeline. While the Foreign Sports Talent Scheme brought us legends like Daniel Bennett and vital current contributors, it can sometimes feel like a stopgap. The development pathway from youth academies to the senior national team appears fragmented. We produce technically sound youngsters, but the jump to the physicality and tactical nous required at the international level remains a chasm. The recent 7-0 defeat by South Korea in a World Cup qualifier was a brutal reminder of the gulf that exists at the highest Asian tier. Defensively, we’ve looked vulnerable, and creating consistent goal-scoring opportunities against organized defenses remains a puzzle. There’s a tactical identity that seems to shift with each coaching change, lacking the long-term continuity that nations like Japan or even Vietnam have cultivated.
Yet, to write off the future would be a disservice to the genuine efforts being made. My personal hope, and I believe a tangible one, lies in the slow-burn projects. The increased investment in youth infrastructure, like the new training facilities at the Singapore Sports Hub, is a non-negotiable first step. The focus on the Under-22s and their participation in higher-level competitions is crucial. I’m also encouraged by the subtle shift in narrative. It’s less about a single savior—whether a naturalized striker or a foreign coach—and more, at least in rhetoric, about systemic building. The emergence of local coaches who understand the Singaporean footballing landscape intimately is vital. Furthermore, the success of Singaporean players abroad, even in regional leagues, adds a layer of experience and professionalism that was previously missing. These players return with different benchmarks for training and mentality.
The mention of QMB by the Philippine coach is a fascinating sidebar. It highlights the interconnected, competitive nature of ASEAN football today. Our rivals are not static; they are improving, scouting, and integrating their diaspora with purpose. Singapore must operate with the same strategic acumen. The future hope isn’t for a sudden, miraculous qualification for the World Cup. That’s a 25-year project, minimum. The immediate hope is for a return to being a formidable, respected force in ASEAN—a team that consistently challenges for the AFF Championship semi-finals, a team whose style of play is recognizable and effective, and a team that can sell out the National Stadium not just for a friendly against Liverpool, but for a crucial qualifier against Thailand or Vietnam. This requires patience from the fans, including myself, and a ruthless long-term vision from the football association, one that survives political and commercial cycles.
So, can they rise again? My heart says yes, but my head insists on defining that “rise.” A return to the pinnacle of Southeast Asian football is an achievable goal within the next two World Cup cycles, provided we stay the course. It will require embracing a hybrid model: continuing to smartly naturalize players who can make an immediate impact, like how QMB is viewed by the Philippines, while simultaneously doubling down on a 15-year youth development plan that produces a core of homegrown Lions. The journey back will be punctuated by setbacks like that 7-0 loss, but also by glimpses of promise. The rise will be measured not in leaps, but in the steady accumulation of competitive performances, a clearer footballing philosophy, and a rekindled connection with a public desperate to believe. The foundation, however wobbly, is being re-poured. Now, we need the discipline to let it set and build upon it properly, season after season.
