By Dara Tan (27A01A) and Saadhana Kalimuthu (27A01C)

All photographs courtesy of Zhu Taiwu (26S06K), Skyler Chen Yuanzhe (27S03A),  Jayden and Tharun from the Raffles Art and Photographic Society

The Wait

4.45 pm. The long-awaited finals  were scheduled to start, but the relentless flashing of the lightning alert kept the match at bay. The yellow-orange hues flickered their warning, a quiet signal that kept both teams in their shelters and the crowd glancing nervously at the sky. 

Nevertheless, the stands kept filling. RI supporters, undeterred by the fact it was gap day nor the thick humidity, arrived in waves. Some carried umbrellas; others clutched water bottles, already drenched in sweat from the walk over. The Year 1-4 hockey team sat together near the front, eyes wide, scanning the empty pitch for any sign of their seniors.

Bon Jovi blasted from the speakers—“Whoa, we’re halfway there!”—followed by Queen’s promise that they would rock someone. The music felt almost defiant against the grey sky, a desperate attempt to keep spirits up while the clock crawled past 5.00pm.

Murmurs of a possible postponement buzzed through the crowd. A delay? A cancellation? Another lightning strike would reset the clock by thirty minutes. The mood was restless, impatient, but no one moved from their seats. Not when the alert flashed again at 4.55pm. Not when the sky rumbled softly at 5.02pm.

Then, at 5.10pm, the warning finally gave in. 

As the players ran out onto the field to warm up, the stands erupted– a mixture of relief and excitement colliding into one deafening roar. A Rafblood cheer erupted from the RI side, loud and raw. Across the pitch, VJC’s supporters answered back, voices sharp and rehearsed, ready for the faceoff.

The match officially began at 5.27pm. The final game of the A Division Hockey Boys—the showdown between VJC and RI—had begun once more.

A Rivalry Already Written

This matchup was never going to be a blowout.

Just weeks earlier, in the group stage of the NSG, RI and VJC had faced off. That game ended 2-2 in a deadlock. It was an early sign that these two teams were evenly matched, and the outcome of the final would be decided by the smallest of margins.

RI knew it. VJC knew it. And that margin showed up just three minutes in.

Three Minutes

The match was heated from the get-go. You could feel that aggression in the first exchange—sticks were clashing harshly, and the players were dashing for the ball with all they had, trying to score early. The rivalry had been picked up with fiery fuel from where it had been left off last year: VJC determined to reclaim the title, and RI refusing to yield it. 

Three minutes in, VJC broke through.

A tackled defender, a good hit to the center 4, the ball rocketed towards RI’s goal with VJC in possession. VJC’s captain, who was RI Captain Ajay Shanmugam (26S03M)— #11’s twin brother, Ajit, and currently in possession of the ball, seized the opportunity and aimed at the goal with a mighty swing.

Goalkeeper Luth Firas Bin Mohamed Firdaus (27S03J) shifted his weight to the side trying to cover that angle. However, he was off-balance. He tried to stretch out his body to save the goal, but it was not enough.

1-0. 

Three minutes, that was all it took. That was the first slip of momentum, according to teacher-in-charge Mr Gopinathan.

“It felt unlucky,” Luth would say later, his voice low. He admitted to being quite disappointed, as he felt he could have saved the goal. “I could have done better.” But none of his teammates blamed him for it, they took responsibility together as one team. “The team is quite supportive and they don’t accuse me of [not properly defending] the goal,” said Luth.

RI did not back down, they fought hard to overturn the tide. Penalty shots came and went– missed. Bodies kept falling. The pitch became a war zone of sliding knees and tangled, intertwined sticks.

The Second Slip of Momentum

Then, in the second period, Ajay, the heart of this team, took a nasty fall. He couldn’t get back up. He was escorted off, limping, face twisted. From the sidelines, he could only watch.

Later, Mr Gopi, would reflect on that moment as the second slip of momentum. “We already had a few boys injured. Some weren’t feeling well. For the leader, the talisman, to be out—it was a little hard for the team to accept.”

However, Ajay didn’t stop being captain just because he was off the pitch. As he left the field  right when VJC started leading, he knew he had to boost morale. His teammates weren’t allowed to give up just because he couldn’t play on the pitch with them. He utilised the breaks to hype them up and give them hope.

“Go out there and keep on fighting, keep on believing. It’s still 1-0. Anything can happen.” 

Ajay, Hockey Boys Captain

And they did not let him down. Through the third period, the fourth period, there were more missed penalties, more desperate runs. Even if they couldn’t score a goal, they refused to let VJC score another one, truly fighting till the last whistle. RI held VJC to that single goal.

When his brother scored the first goal for VJC, Ajay didn’t really feel anything. He had hoped that the game would turn around as they still had time. But he later admitted that when he was subbed out and watching the time run down, he felt mixed emotions. “Because I knew we did whatever we could and managed to hold them to a 1-0 scoreline. We were just really unlucky.” 

The final whistle blew. 1-0.

“We can’t win them all,” Mr Gopi said afterwards. “We win some, we lose some.”

Two Twins, Two Jerseys

When Ajay went down injured in the second period, when he lay on that cold pitch, clutching his leg in pain, amidst the rush of white jerseys was someone dressed in yellow. His older twin brother.

“I expected something like that,” Ajay said when asked about his injury. “I wasn’t fully fit to play the finals. I just told my brother not to worry—go out there and do his best for his team.”

But neither that nor their different jersey colours stopped Ajit from rushing over and crouching down to make sure his brother was okay.

That’s their dynamic. Off the pitch, they’re “very, very close to each other.” On the pitch, things do not really change. They may be playing for rival schools, but they will always be brothers. However, that does not stop them from giving it their all during a match either. “We both know we have our respective roles. When it comes to a game like this, we won’t hold back.”

Their rivalry started when they both went to different secondary schools—Ajay to RI and Ajit to VS—and continued when they went to different JCs. The rivalry wasn’t planned, it just happened; and last year, on that same field, Ajay came out on top.

This year, the script flipped. The goal that decided the match was instead scored by Ajit. Same brother who rushed over when Ajay fell, same brother who celebrated after the whistle.

When we asked Ajay how it felt beating his twin one year and losing to him the next, his response was quite straightforward. 

“You can’t always win all the titles. Sometimes losses happen. What’s important is you learn from it and use it as fuel to come back stronger. As a brother, I felt proud and happy for him.”

Ajay

Six Years, One Bond

Some partnerships don’t need trophies to prove their worth.

Captain Ajay and Vice-Captain Jaydon Poh Yi Kai (26S06C) have been playing together since secondary school. Six years of training together, six years of experiencing victories and losses on the same pitch, six years of uplifting each other. 

Last year, they celebrated on this very pitch. This year, they walked off with a mutual respect for one another, after their final time representing RI together. It was truly a bittersweet moment.

When Ajay was asked who on this team deserved recognition that the scoreboard would not show, he didn’t hesitate for a second. “Jaydon Poh,” he said. “He led the team alongside me. There were many setbacks, but we worked together to come to this stage.”

When we told Jaydon of his nomination, he smiled.

“I’ve been playing with Ajay since Sec 1. Our bond is stronger than ever. I’m really proud to have been able to play this sport with him for six years. Thank you Ajay.”

Jaydon

Jaydon was quite honest about what went wrong in the game. “We were really happy after beating VJC last year,” he admitted. “Maybe we got a bit too complacent in training because of that win.” 

He believes this loss will drive the team to work harder next year and experience the same joy he and Ajay felt a year ago.

In the locker room after the match, there was no blame nor anger. Just exhaustion and a steadfast determination to reclaim the title next year.

“Everyone gave their all. We’re proud of the effort from the past year. Train hard, have fun, and treasure this last year in the team.”

Ajay’s message to the younger players watching from the stands was similarly full of conviction. “1-0 down, we never gave up. I want my juniors to have that fire in them—the fuel to come back stronger next year and win it back for us.”

Until the final whistle

The 2-2 group stage draw had told everyone these two teams were evenly matched. On paper, the final should have been a toss-up, all down to luck.

But Mr Gopi saw it differently. VJC had the denser bench, the fitter squad, and RI was already nursing injuries before the match even started. When his captain limped off, the gap only widened.

“We went in as underdogs for this match,” he said. And that—the way his boys refused to fold, how they kept fighting even when everything stacked against them—was what he was proudest of.  

“Play until the final whistle,”

Mr Gopi

In spite of the results, the main takeaway for this season was to never give up, and to keep fighting no matter what. 

Jaydon shared that the team had a tradition of going to the clock tower after their matches, especially in celebration. This year, it acted as a memorial tradition, to recall the times spent with each other and the training they’d been through together. 

Perhaps next year we’ll see gold medals glinting around their necks, and their triumphant faces at the clock tower.