A rivalry that goes beyond sport

You should’ve seen the eyes of the Malaysians on Sunday, the final day of the badminton event at the Olympics. You could see every emotion in those eyes: anxiety, fear, hope, happiness... Sometimes, you could even detect two contrasting emotions in the same moment: hope and fear.

It was the day their hero Lee Chong Wei was playing nemesis Lin Dan in the final, and that match will probably be talked about a decade later too. Chong Wei will have to live with private demons that he could never quite vanquish.

Chong Wei and Lin of China form a unique twosome in sport. One may find some elements of the Roger Federer-Rafael Nadal rivalry, although there are several differences. The one similarity between Chong Wei and Federer is that both have been super-achievers, but both have a question mark hanging over their careers—Federer’s is Nadal at the French Open; Chong Wei’s is Lin at the Olympics and the World Championships.

To understand the Chong Wei-Lin rivalry, we must recognize the weight of politics and history between the two nations. In recent years, Chong Wei has come to represent, whether he likes it or not, Malaysia’s aspirations beyond just the sporting arena. He plays not just for himself, but for all of Malaysia. They see his success as theirs; and consequently, his failures too become theirs.

Lin is one of China’s many superstars, and he probably doesn’t feel the weight of his people’s aspirations as keenly as Chong Wei. Lin is the most accomplished badminton singles player of all time. There is nothing he has not won; no barrier he has not broken. In recent years, if there is one player who has been able to beat him in Superseries events, it is Chong Wei. However, in the events that really matter, such as the Olympics or the World Championships, Lin has consistently come on top. “Super Dan” is a four-time World Champion and twice Olympic gold medallist.

The problem for Chong Wei is that he has so often capitulated to pressure that even his staunchest Malaysian fans have harboured doubts about him. He represents their aspirations as well as their deepest fears. When they mock him, they mock a part of themselves that they fear the most.

At last year’s World Championships in London, Chong Wei came the closest he ever has to beating that jinx. He had two match points in the final against Lin. Had he converted either, his place in history would have been secure, and he would never have had to live with the Lin Dan question.

Did he choke under pressure? Did Lin show the true extent of his genius by raising his game and saving those two match points? Whatever it was, Chong Wei found himself on the runner-up podium, fighting back tears.

In the 2012 Olympics in London held at the Wembley Arena, where in August 2011 the BWF World Championships had been held, Chong Wei was coming back from a serious ankle injury, and there was less pressure on him than usual. Lin, as usual, seemed immune to everything and strolled into the final.

As Chong Wei took the first game playing nearly flawless badminton, Malaysian spirits perked up. Lin Dan fought back to take the second game. Their spirits accordingly went down, and the Chinese fans found their voice.

The third and deciding game was nerve-racking. At 19-18, with Chong Wei leading, a rally ensued—probing strokes, each challenging a response from the other. A high toss from Lin Dan, and Chong Wei, at the backcourt, suddenly decided to let it fall. It was an incredible piece of poor judgement. The shuttle fell in. Chong Wei had gifted Lin Dan a point when each point had the price of blood and sweat.

A hush among the Malaysian supporters. They had seen this so many times. They prayed, but nothing could stop the inevitable. Lin Dan had won his second successive Olympic gold medal. How much more could destiny reward one man? Chong Wei sank to his knees—and one almost expected that of him too.

One fan died of a heart attack after watching the match. How will Malaysia recover from this blow?

Chong Wei himself, once he had swallowed the bitter tears, was diplomatic about his loss. For one thing, he said, he would play at least the next two years, until the 2014 Commonwealth Games, setting to rest speculation that he would retire after the Olympics. “Lin Dan is a brilliant player,” he said. “I just have to keep working hard.” He also nominated the likes of Viktor
Axelsen (Denmark) and Kenichi Tago (Japan) as those to watch out for.

The Olympics saw the end of the road for at least four great players. Top 10 singles players like Peter Gade (Denmark) and Lee Hyun-il (Korea), and doubles greats Chung Jae Sung (Korea) and Yu Yang (China)announced their retirement. Gade and fellow legend Taufik Hidayat (Indonesia) will make a few more appearances before finally calling it quits.

An era winds to a close.

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