They were tales of packed school fields, rivalries that shook a town, and a time when sport shaped character as much as classrooms did.
On this night, though, Perth-based D’Cruz, 78, was not just a listener.
At the 99th Old Paulians’ Association (OPA) gala yesterday, he was honoured for sporting excellence and national service.
D’Cruz was among several old Paulians recognised for contributions to country, state, and the OPA.
He had stood on the frontline in Tawau as a Royal Malaysian Air Force aircraftman during the Indonesia-Malaysia Confrontation in the 1960s. Last year, he received the Pingat Jasa Malaysia (PJM) for his service.
Yet it was hockey that made him famous, the fearsome goalie who humbled rivals, shaped champions, and became a national icon.
He first pulled on the pads after watching his late brother Austin and cousin Eliston D’Cruz, both goalkeepers for SPI in the late 1950s.
To many, he was the “Black Panther” because of a frightening fearlessness and strength, and for wearing a distinctive all-black strip.
In Perth, he was the “Feral Cat” — fast, untamed, impossible to pin down.
“The Feral Cat gets his tribute,” D’Cruz, an alumnus of the 1962 batch, said with a wry smile, holding the certificate of recognition.
Then he asked: “But where are today’s cubs? Who will carry it forward?”
When Seremban roared
For D’Cruz, the respect was humbling but bittersweet. It was as much about memory as it was about what schools once were — and what they no longer seem able to be.
“When Seremban roared, it was because our schools gave us a platform,” he said. “SPI didn’t just produce players; it produced men ready for life.
“That roar is quiet now. I don’t hear it anymore.”
In his youth, SPI’s field was alive with energy. Every evening, boys clashed sticks until the light faded. The best carried that hunger into state and national squads.
World cupper D’Cruz became a goalie extraordinaire, who inspired teammates and thrilled spectators. Rivalries, like SPI versus KGV, drew huge crowds to the NS Padang.
“You didn’t play for yourself, you played for your school and Seremban. People took pride in it,” he recalled.
He said: “It was not just about winning but about discipline, resilience and courage.
“Hockey taught me to pick myself up after being knocked down. That’s something you don’t forget.”
Today, the grass fields of his era are gone, replaced by scarce artificial turf.
“You hardly see schoolboys with sticks in their hands anymore. In our time, you only needed a patch of grass and the will to play,” he said.
He worries what this means for the future. “Sports aren’t distractions from studies. They’re part of education.
“If you don’t give children that balance, you deny them the chance to grow fully.”
There is no bitterness in his words, only concern. His questions hang heavy: “If schools no longer nurture competition and camaraderie, where will the next generation of leaders find their edge?”
D’Cruz carries the years with grace. A back problem has slowed his gait, but not his humour.
“I’m not as straight-backed as before,” he joked. “But the fire inside, that doesn’t bend.”
And so, when the OPA placed the citation in his hands, it was more than a memento.
It was proof his journey still matters — a reminder that the roar of Seremban can rise again if schools choose to nurture it.