The tournament revealed an emerging country that was modernising, ambitious and passionate about its identity.

Malaysia’s 16-man hockey team became symbols of aspiration, intense loyalty, comradeship and discipline.

The players produced fighting spirit on the field to mirror the nation’s own hopes of making a mark globally.

They showed every young person that it’s possible to take control of your life and, whatever your background, become the best.

Their tenacity in both the shock 2-1 win over the Netherlands and narrow loss to India in the semi-final, inspired unity that transcended race, class and political divisions.

We were in uncharted territory.

It had about it that sporting perfection that always might, but seldom does, happen.

A perfection incarnate in events like Malaysia’s success in the early Merdeka Cup and Olympic qualification football tournaments, and in Thomas Cup badminton.

In the end, Malaysia did not medal.

Against the eventual champions India they were so near, yet so far, ding-dong right up to the end, 50,000 hearts in Merdeka Stadium going aflutter.

Malaysia led twice against India, only to lose 3-2 after extra-time in the high voltage semi-final, but there was no shame in defeat.

In the playoff for the third spot in the 12-team competition, they lost 4-0 to Germany. The fourth place remains the nation’s best finish at world level.

It’s hard to believe such a time ever existed.

Fifty years on, some of the boys of ’75 look back on the most glorious moment of their lives, and their sepia-tinted memories are given the full FMT treatment.

In the coming days, their stories will take us through the emotion of being carried on the wave of a nation’s euphoria.

They share what it means to be defined by one moment; how a life fully lived can come back to one single instance.

The boys of ‘75

“Our exploits on the field were not just about sport; they were about national identity, belonging and dreams of sporting greatness,” said hockey icon R Yogeswaran.

Yogeswaran, who was assistant to head coach, Ho Koh Chye, recalled: “Malaysia’s exceptional performances united a country in ambition and passion.”

He turned 85 yesterday. Koh Chye and two other deputy coaches, Lawrence van Huizen and Mohamed Sidek Othman have passed away.

The appeal of the players, who gave the bell-bottomed 70s some flare, was refreshing.

Playing on grass, a year before elite-level hockey was played on artificial surface for the first time at the Montreal Olympics, their exploits were, at times, lump-in-the throat feats.

We would not feel those electrifying vibes involving Malaysia in international hockey at home again until the 1998 Commonwealth Games and the 2002 World Cup.

In the Commonwealth Games, Paul Lissek’s Malaysia beat India 1-0 in the semi-final, with the ‘golden goal’ scorer, Mirnawan Nawawi, receiving a wonderful gift on his 27th birthday.

In the final, we lost 4-0 to Australia, under our former coach Terry Walsh, but the extra-time win over India smelt good, given what happened in ’75.

So did the 3-2 win over India in the preliminary round of the World Cup four years later, but finishing eighth among 16 nations wasn’t exactly a splendid achievement.

The 16 players who stoked our fascination in ’75 were goalkeepers Khairuddin Zainal and Mohd Azraai Mohd Zain, and fullbacks N Sri Shanmuganathan (captain), A Francis and Brian Sta Maria.

The halfbacks were K Balasingam, S Balasingam, Wong Choon Hin, R Ramakrishnan, Len Oliveiro and Phang Poh Meng, and the forward line comprised Poon Fook Loke, Franco D’Cruz, M Mahendran, N Palanisamy and R Pathmarajah.

Fan frenzy

The Netherlands were cooked and done as Shanmuganathan’s impudent shot from a short corner rocketed low into the left corner of the Dutch net 56 seconds before the tie ended.

The Kilat Club ground exploded with jubilation.

Many were perched on rooftops, poles and trees, and packed on slopes around the Kilat Club ground.

Then Malaysia Hockey Federation (MHF) deputy president, the late Sultan Azlan Shah, had to be pulled to safety by commentator Rahim Razali when he almost fell from a raised platform, where the live commentary was being staged.

A pitch invasion followed after the final whistle; the players, coaches, officials and hardened fans were in tears.

Not even all the blows Muhammad Ali threw on Joe Bugner four months later in a heavyweight bout at the Merdeka Stadium could match the thrills of the encounters with the Netherlands and India.

The extent to which the attention of the country was concentrated on every match Malaysia played was staggering.

The expectations were huge but worry came after the first match ended in a 0-0 draw against New Zealand, who went on to grab the gold medal in the Montreal Olympics a year later.

Newspapers screamed, “same no goal tale” as Malaysia disappointed fans again in the next match with another scoreless draw against Spain.

They turned it around with a 3-1 drubbing of Poland in the third match, then lost 2-1 to Pakistan, winners of the first World Cup in ’71 in Barcelona.

The showdown with the Netherlands, the last preliminary round match of the tournament, was on a wet morning of March 11.

It was the same day as the birthday of then prime minister Abdul Razak Hussein.

Malaysia had to beat the Dutch to make the last four. People not normally interested in hockey were getting interested.

There was no colour television until three years after the tournament, and some households would not have even owned a black and white set on which to watch matches.

Razak, who was also MHF president, sat beside his radio at his official residence and listened to the commentary before a cabinet meeting.

Later, speaking exclusively on the phone to the late Malay Mail sports journalist, Francis Emmanuel, he said: “This is the best birthday present my boys have given me. I’m very proud of them.”

He told Emmanuel that he would present each player with “something very special”.

Three months later, the players received a gold Omega watch from him.

Hidden gems

Before every match, the team’s psychologist, Lawrence Chan, played a vinyl record of the song, “United We Stand, Divided We Fall” by Brotherhood of Man,

Balasingam said their veins bulged from their temple in the dressing room as they formed a circle and sang the chorus of the tune:

“For united we stand, divided we fall/ And if our backs should ever be against the wall/We’ll be together, together, you and I.”

The team’s dressing room soundtrack also included “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” by the Hollies.

Any player or official speaking about the ’75 World Cup never fails to pay tribute to Azlan Shah, who was then a federal court judge and chairman of the organising committee.

Yogeswaran said Azlan, was not only key to the world cup being held in Malaysia, but also “did an amazing job of helping us to build our resilience”.

“We were like a family, on and off the pitch, thanks to him,” he said.

Shanmuganathan, 78, said credit must also go to the coaches and team manager Abdul Manaf Ibrahim for shaping the mindset from one of anxiety to one of adventure.

Balasingam said then MHF secretary G Vijayananthan stood out for leading inexperienced officials in organising a huge event at venues in Kuala Lumpur, Penang, Ipoh and Seremban.

Vijayananthan also umpired the final that saw India overcome Pakistan 2-1, with the Pakistanis claiming that he had wrongly awarded the winning goal to the Indians. They were wrong.

Balasingam said the collective effort to build belief among the players and bring glory to the country made them closer, with a better understanding of each other.

“We took to the field like warriors, and this fairytale will take some forgetting,” declared Balasingam, 73.