This article first appeared in The Edge Malaysia Weekly on January 16, 2023 - January 22, 2023

One rainy afternoon in Jalan Riong, Bangsar, about 20 years ago (think it was in June), this writer gingerly walked up to an editor seated at a mamak restaurant during lunch, and asked him what “gearing” was — as in the ratio indicating the debt level of a company.

He replied, “Joe (he called everyone that), no need to know all that, no need to stress yourself out. Just learn how to make good roti canai and you will be okay, you will survive. “No need [for] all these technical things, you can lead a good life … Just learn how to make good roti canai and I will get you a job here,” he laughed, exposing his coffee- and cigarette-stained teeth, before walking out.

Another time when clearing a story, he said, “Joe, you write like Shakespeare,” then muttered under his breath, “Four hundred years from now even, no one will know what you are trying to say,” laughed to himself and left his desk for coffee and cigarettes.

In this fine media establishment, we got paid twice a month: at the beginning and on the 15th of the month. For thrills, this editor used to call one colleague’s home phone — twice a month on payday — and introduce himself as Allan, an Ah Long (loan shark), before asking for the colleague, who was seated maybe a few metres away from him. Upon hanging up, he would wait and watch the colleague denying the allegations and trying to reason with his wife who would call him immediately, asking which Ah Long this was and how much money he had taken.

Those days, there was an ad in one of the local dailies, showing a picture of a Pak Haji, with the heading “massage untuk lelaki” and a cellphone number listed — the Pak Haji’s. The picture of the Pak Haji had him on a Motorola clamshell handphone with the antenna extended and the mouthpiece also open downwards — the height of fashion then.

When junior reporters asked him for any contacts or the phone numbers of ministers, this editor would then give the massage Pak Haji’s number. During the boardroom fight in KFC around 2003 or 2004, one unsuspecting reporter called the Pak Haji and asked several questions. The clincher was when the reporter asked whether the price of chicken was going to go up due to disruptions brought about by changes in shareholders and management, to which the Pak Haji innocently replied, “Saya tak ada ayam, saya massage juga.”

The junior reporter had a tough time explaining this quote to his editor.

Against this backdrop sometime last week, some of us at The Edge contemplated writing a letter to our newly minted Youth and Sports Minister Hannah Yeoh to bid for the World Cup in 2030. We plan to use the connections that our sister publication in Singapore has with government personnel to help moot the plan — submit a joint bid from Kuala Lumpur and Singapore to host the World Cup in 2030.

If the US, Mexico and Canada can host it in 2026, what with the huge expanse of land between the venues, why not a KL-Singapore World Cup in 2030?

The spiel is that hosting the World Cup will bring in billions in tourism for both countries, which will translate into billions for hotels, eateries and shopping, which in turn will generate earnings, and also make the current governments of the two countries very popular with the people. Talk about killing several birds with one stone.

Also, Malaysia and Singapore — as joint hosts — would qualify for the World Cup, an experience money cannot buy, for the teams and fans who will be able to watch games live, watch their teams play in the flesh and not at some mamak stall.

We may have to build more stadiums and improve our infrastructure, but it could very well be a profitable venture. News reports have it that Qatar spent US$10 billion (RM44 billion) on eight stadiums and related infrastructure, but raked in something like US$17 billion from the initiative.

Of course, these are all just back-of-the-envelope calculations, but we plan to rope in Maybank to help with our pitch. Why Maybank? Well, it has the Harimau as its logo and our team is Harimau Malaya.

We think the Employees Provident Fund, Khazanah Nasional and other local giants will play ball (pun intended). Watch this space for updates, and if you no longer see this byline in The Edge …

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