Spirit soars at the Games even as border tensions rise

MOST restaurants in Bangkok seem to be filled with excited people - but it’s not about the many nail-biting battles in the SEA Games.

Instead, it’s the screens glowing with live coverage about the skirmishes between Cambodia in Thailand’s northern borders.

Even on bike rides to stadiums, Grab riders have their ears tuned to podcasts and news streams analysing every possible shift in the fragile dynamics between the two nations.

Just the mention of “Cambodia” draws glances. At times, one wonders if people even know that Asean’s biggest sporting spectacle is happening right here on their home soil.

But step inside the stadium – and that doubt dissolves. It’s like walking into a different world entirely. Even as we walked back to the hotel on Wednesday night, the aquatics arena near Rajamangala Stadium was buzzing with life.

Not just buzzing, it was reverberating.

The cheers, whistles, and laughter rose above the music on my earphones, an unmistakable reminder of the power of sport.

The fan – and sports – culture here is something else. At every sports complex, people are working out, jogging, playing basketball, or showing off their futsal skills.

It feels familiar, like Bukit Jalil, yet somehow amplified. Across Bangkok, such scenes are not exceptions – they are the norm.

Take Romsai Sports Club, for instance. It’s nearly 40 minutes from the city centre, yet it boasts a clubhouse, two beautifully maintained fields, and a calendar full of friendly matches and youth tournaments.

Malaysia’s Under-23 football team trained there too. It reminded me of FC Ketereh back home, another shining example of what happens when community sport is treated as a responsibility, not an afterthought.

Romsai is just one of many. Sports infrastructure here is woven into the city.

Then there is Thai athletics coach Ekkawit Sawangohol. A man who has shaped not just Thai talents like sprint sensation Puripol Boonson but has poured his knowledge into athletes from across the region.

During Wednesday’s starting-block test, Laotian athletes crowded around him.

Their respect for him spoke volumes. This is what real investment looks like – continuity, consistency, and a genuine hunger to grow together.

Thailand, host of the Asian Games four times (1966, 1970, 1978, 1998), have left an unmistakable imprint on regional sport.

Their dominance in the all-time SEA Games tally, with a staggering 2,453 gold medals and counting, 471 more than Indonesia, does not come from luck.

It comes from decades of nurturing a sporting ecosystem that thrives beyond tournaments.

There is a lot we can learn from them. Progress is not sparked by fireworks, it is built through quiet, relentless pursuit of knowledge, maintenance, and consistency.

But the tensions at the border still hang over the Games, like a dark cloud.

The renewed fighting has entered its fourth day. Cross-border shelling and air raids have forced more than half a million people from their homes.

Cambodia has withdrawn from the Games, striking many events a heavy blow.

Officials from both sides accuse the other of reigniting the conflict that has already claimed at least 13 lives, soldiers and civilians alike.

It reminds us that even in sports, our so-called safe space, real-world tensions seep through.

We always say all in Asean are one. But moments like this test that belief.

What does unity mean when fear sits this close to the stadium gates?

Yet, the SEA Games continue. Athletes run, dive, leap, and lift, not in denial of the tensions, but in defiance of them.

Sport, at its best, is both a celebration and a reminder. Even when borders tremble, the human spirit battles on.