Badminton legend Tan still going it alone

Bruce Emond The Jakarta Post/Jakarta

Meeting Tan Joe Hock for the first time may lead some to suspect that a horribly decaying portrait lies tucked away in a dark corner of his home in Kuningan, South Jakarta.

While other sporting legends descend into stooped, sagging shadows of their once active selves, the country's first winner of the All England badminton men's singles title -- way back in 1959 -- looks suspiciously well preserved.

At 68, his vigorous bearing is not due to some Wildean pact with the devil, but his concerted approach to warding off the ravages of the aging process, what he terms "integrated life management".

Although he does not play badminton anymore, he takes early morning walks, works out in the small gym in his home and has been basically vegetarian for the past 10 years.

And there is also his enduring philosophy -- dating back to his playing days -- of the power of mind over matter.

As with everything in his life, from working hard to become the best in the world by the age of 22, only to hang up his racket for university study, the decision to stay fit was one made with careful, calculated consideration.

Like the scientist he is (he majored in chemistry and biology at Baylor University in Texas), he sizes up the problems of life, studiously considering all the attendant variables before embarking on a plan of action.

Never one to make rash decisions or to take risks, he returns time and again to his life motto of "the future belongs to those who are prepared".

Of course, his scientific training has contributed to his viewpoint, but it seems that other factors, gleaned from personal experience, have also been at play.

Not least among them was growing up at the tail end of the Depression, followed by the difficult Japanese occupation during World War II. Also among them is the persistent insecurity of being of ethnic Chinese descent, even if one was a world beater proudly bearing the name of Indonesia.

Born in Bandung, Tan moved around West Java with his family during the tough times of the late 1930s and early '40s, eventually returning to settle in the province's capital.

His father was from a wealthy family, but, Tan said, "he didn't like to work, he was what we call badung (reckless)".

As a child, he would watch his mother play badminton in their yard. "I was a born athlete. I could turn my hand to anything."

From the young standout in his neighborhood, he became champion of Bandung by the age of 15; at 17, he won a famous victory over top player Nyoo Kiem Bie in Surabaya.

Two years later, Tan took the Indonesian Open singles and men's doubles titles in his hometown.

He nursed ambitions to leave Indonesia and conquer foreign shores.

"I would read in the newspaper about Finn Kobbero and Eddy Choong, and I wanted to become number one like them," he said of the Danish and Malaysian players.

"I worked hard and prepared myself mentally. I would wake up at 5 a.m., without needing an alarm clock, and bike to a running track, but still be at school before the gates closed at 7 a.m."

In 1956, his dream came true with a trip to Singapore. He won the tournament, but the experience also provided the sobering realization that he could not earn a living from the sport.

He stayed during the tournament with Ismail bin Marjan, a doubles player who had been a runner up at the 1951 All England when Singapore was still part of Malaysia.

"Singapore wasn't like it is today. He still lived in a kampong where you had to walk outside along a plank to go to the toilet ... I cried in my heart seeing it."

Marjan supported his family by working as a night watchman.

"I decided then and there that I would become number one in the world, beat everybody, and then say goodbye."

He did just that in a charmed season in 1959. He rallied to defeat the legendary Kobbero in their first meeting, and took the All England by beating compatriot Ferry Sonneville, one of his teammates in the victorious, history-making Thomas Cup campaign a year earlier.

He also won the Canada Open and All America Open; Sports Illustrated, not known for its coverage of a sport considered more of a backyard pastime in the U.S., devoted a two-page story to Tan in April 1959, quaintly described as one of "... the young brown men who know very little of highballs and hamburgers".

True to his word, he quit when he was on top, heading to Baylor with his wife to study (he returned to win two golds in the 1962 Asian Games and was on the team that took the Thomas Cup again in 1964).

His wife, herself a former player, did not like the U.S., so the family took on coaching stints in Mexico and Hong Kong. They returned home in the early 1970s, with Tan working in several ventures.

It was then, under the fledgling New Order government, that discrimination became infuriatingly apparent to him. It ranged from the bureaucratic runaround about his citizenship papers, to having his two children rejected from entering the neighborhood school. It also included being told, as the coach of the successful 1984 Thomas Cup team, to replace an ethnic Chinese player with a Javanese because, some griped, the team did not look Indonesian enough.

He still smarts at the injustice.

"I am a nationalist, a product of Sukarno. He gave us a sense of pride and a sense of nationalism, regardless of who you were ... Why should I be treated like a stepchild by my own country? It's crazy."

By 1997, he had had enough, and applied to emigrate to Australia. However, his wife died suddenly in February 1998, and then came the May riots, in which Chinese-Indonesians were targeted.

The memory of the latter is still so painful that he breaks down as he talks about it. But age has also given him license to speak his mind.

He is grateful the Chinese New Year has been made an official holiday, but he still considers it "peanuts ... If there is real political will, it's easy for the government to state the rights and responsibilities of all its citizens ... Is there any guarantee it (anti-Chinese violence) won't happen again?"

It has taken him him several years to get over the trauma of 1998, but now he is back helping the sport once again. He is the head of research and development for the Badminton Association of Indonesia (PBSI), with plans to improve the training facilities and living conditions of the players.

Sports psychology, not surprisingly, is also a big part of his plans. "Everything is given to the players, but we must work on their mentality, to make them hungry ... If a coach says that a target is to reach the semifinals, then there should be a big question mark."

If the players and coaches are not receptive to his input, he will move on to other things, or spend a quiet retirement -- "I'm a loner, as a Leo, it's in my character" -- with his two dogs and his large library of books, many devoted to psychology and sports nutrition.

He is not slavishly devoted to memories of his heyday -- his trophies are kept in a cabinet on the second floor -- but he still takes satisfaction in what he accomplished.

"What is past is past. It's only sometimes that I cherish the things I did all those years ago. Nobody knew Indonesia before there was me and my friends. I am happy to say I was a pioneer."