Belgium’s Rise to Hockey Supremacy: A Blueprint for the Modern Game

Before 2008, the Belgium hockey team was not considered a force at the world-class level. That changed when they qualified for the 2008 Beijing Olympics, finishing 9th—an important first step back onto the global stage.

Four years later, at the 2012 London Olympics, Belgium made a significant leap, finishing 5th. It was more than just an improved ranking—it was a signal that a new contender was emerging.

Their steady rise during these Olympic cycles reflected a deeper transformation. By 2010, Belgium had climbed from 25th in the world rankings to join the elite tier of international hockey—a remarkable ascent built on vision and structure.

The Turning Point

To truly understand this rise, we must look at the setbacks that shaped it.

Belgium failed to qualify for both the 2006 and 2010 Hockey World Cups. Rather than a collapse, this period became a catalyst for change. By the 2014 Men's Hockey World Cup, Belgium returned to finish 5th—an emphatic statement of progress.

At the same time, their Olympic journey showed clear upward momentum:

9th place in 2008

5th place in 2012

They further announced their arrival by finishing runners-up at the 2015–16 Men’s FIH Hockey World League Final, narrowly losing to Australia.

Behind these results was a deliberate and well-executed long-term vision. Following their 2006 setback, Belgium committed to a structured development pathway with a clear objective: to become an Olympic medal-winning nation by 2016.

The Breakthrough and the Birth of a Golden Generation

Belgium didn’t just reach their target—they redefined it.

🥈 Silver medal at the 2016 Rio Olympics

🥇 Gold medal at the 2020 Tokyo Olympics

🥇 Champions of the 2018 Men’s Hockey World Cup

🥇 Winners of the 2019 EuroHockey Championship

🥇 Champions of the 2020–21 FIH Pro League

And they have continued to remain among the world’s elite:

🥈 Silver medal at the 2023 Men’s Hockey World Cup

🥉 Bronze medal at the 2024 Paris Olympics

This era was driven by world-class individuals such as Arthur Van Doren, Vincent Vanasch, and Thomas Briels, under the guidance of visionary coach Shane McLeod.

Together, they transformed Belgium from underdogs into one of the most consistent and dominant forces in modern hockey.

Club Success: The Engine Behind the Rise

Belgium’s dominance did not begin at the national level—it was built from the ground up through its clubs.

KHC Dragons set an early benchmark by reaching the Euro Hockey League 2012–13 final, finishing as runners-up. It was a defining moment that proved Belgian clubs could compete with Europe’s best.

Clubs such as Royal Leopold Club consistently challenged in European competitions, while Royal Herakles Hockey Club and Orée Hockey Club played a crucial role in developing elite talent.

The Belgian domestic league evolved into one of Europe’s most competitive environments, attracting international players and raising performance standards across the board. This high-performance ecosystem ensured that players were constantly tested, refined, and prepared for international success.

The Foundation of Excellence

At the heart of Belgium’s rise lies a clear philosophy: development begins at the club level.

Young players are nurtured through structured systems that emphasize:

Technical excellence

Tactical awareness

Physical conditioning

Mental resilience

Backed by strong governance and investment, Belgian hockey aligned its clubs, coaches, and national programs under a unified vision. Players gained exposure to top European leagues and brought that experience back into the system, creating a continuous cycle of growth.

A Model for the Future

Belgium’s rise is no accident—it is the result of clarity, commitment, and a deeply rooted club culture.

From missing World Cups to standing atop the Olympic podium, their journey offers more than inspiration—it provides a blueprint.

A blueprint that proves success is not built overnight, but engineered through systems, sustained through structure, and ultimately defined by a relentless pursuit of excellence.

Coaching the Introverted Child: A Journey of Patience and Understanding

Coaches involved in development programs are bound to encounter children who are introverted. The term “introvert,” introduced by the eminent psychologist Carl Jung, describes individuals who are often preoccupied with their inner thoughts and feelings, preferring minimal interaction with the external world.

At its core, the word “introvert” reflects a simple idea—the tendency to withdraw from the world.

When a coach meets such a child, the first instinct should not be to convince or compel them to change. Instead, the coach must learn how to become the child’s friend. This is no easy task, as introverted children do not form connections easily. However, once an introverted child begins to see the coach as a friend, something remarkable happens—the learning process truly begins.

Many introverted children are shaped by their environments. Parents, peers, coaches, and even hostile surroundings can influence their personality. In many cases, excessive pressure from parents—driven by ambition, fear, or unrealistic expectations—pushes the child further inward.

Coaches, therefore, have a responsibility beyond the field. They must gently educate parents, helping them understand how constant pressure, shouting instructions from the sidelines, and forcing early participation in high-level competitions can confuse and stress the child. What parents perceive as guidance may, in reality, be psychological strain.

"Patience, empathy, and affection are the coach’s greatest tools—and often the most overlooked." 

In the early stages, an introverted child may avoid drills and hesitate to participate in matches. This is not defiance—it is protection. Coaches must respond with encouragement rather than criticism. Praise small successes. Offer guidance without judgment. Build confidence step by step.

Often, when an introverted child makes a mistake, they look at the coach with fear—expecting anger or disappointment. This reaction is usually rooted in low self-esteem. In such moments, the coach must remain calm and composed. A simple smile and gentle correction can do more than any harsh instruction.

Over time, the change will be visible. The child will begin to engage, participate, and even enjoy the game—provided there is no pressure.

Equally important is creating opportunities for social interaction. Team dinners, outings, and shared experiences outside the field allow introverted children to understand and trust their teammates. Gradually, they begin to open up. As relationships strengthen, their confidence grows—not just socially, but also in their performance.

Ultimately, the bond between the introverted child, the coach, and teammates transforms the learning environment. The child no longer feels isolated but becomes part of a collective journey.

In the end, coaching an introverted child isn’t about changing who they are—it’s about creating a space where they feel safe, understood, and valued. Growth happens naturally when a child is not pressured, but supported. Simply put, it’s about building an environment that gives the child the confidence and freedom to shape their own future, at their own pace.

Because when trust replaces fear, even the quietest child finds their voice.

For a coach, this journey is invaluable.

Thank You

From Beginners to Bronze: Myanmar’s Beautiful SEA Games Journey

I was taken by surprise when I received an email inviting me to coach Myanmar’s women’s hockey team for the 27th SEA Games in Yangon. From my earlier experience in the country, I knew one thing—there were no established women hockey players. Curious, I replied to ask if such a team even existed. The response was immediate: there were many girls in training, eager to learn.

Though hesitant at first, I accepted the challenge, encouraged by a friend, and arrived in Yangon with a simple intention—to learn as much as I would teach.

What greeted me at the training ground was a stark reality. The players lacked basic skills, pace, and confidence, both on and off the ball. With just seven months to prepare, the task ahead was daunting. We began with the fundamentals—hitting, slap hitting, and pushing—while building fitness through weekly runs around Kandawgyi Lake.

But skill development alone would not be enough. When I spoke to the players, most of whom came from farming backgrounds, their motivation was simple: they wanted to be part of the SEA Games, a historic occasion for Myanmar. There was no talk of medals or victory—only participation.

That was the moment I knew we had to redefine our purpose.

I introduced a program called “A Beautiful Journey to the SEA Games.” Every effort was celebrated—a beautiful pass, a beautiful shot, a beautiful attempt. Training became a space of joy, learning, and belief. Slowly but surely, the transformation began. Within three months, the improvement in their skill, speed, and confidence was remarkable.

A crucial turning point came during a 40-day training and competition stint in Bangkok at the Asian Challenge Cup. Facing stronger opponents, we endured heavy defeats. Yet, the experience proved invaluable. It tested our resilience and exposed the challenges of communication, especially across language barriers.

For a foreign coach, mastering the local language is a vital asset. Communication is not just about words—it carries tone, emotion, and intent. These nuances are often lost through translation, making it harder to build genuine connection with players.

Upon returning to Myanmar, preparations intensified. A structured 12-week training- matches against men’s teams, and focused work on penalty corner defence strengthened the squad. By the time the SEA Games began, the team was no longer just participating—they were competing.

With little external pressure, the players embraced the tournament with freedom and determination. After a challenging group stage, they advanced to the bronze medal match against Singapore.

Backed by a passionate home crowd, the team delivered a disciplined and spirited performance to secure a historic 1–0 victory. As the final whistle blew, the stadium erupted, and fans poured onto the pitch in celebration.

At the medal ceremony, I stood quietly, overwhelmed. True to my promise, I stayed to witness that moment. As the players received their medals, tears of joy flowed freely—not just for the victory, but for the journey that brought them there.

From a group of beginners to SEA Games bronze medalists in just seven months, their achievement was extraordinary.

More than medals and matches, these young women taught me the true meaning of resilience, self-belief, and dignity.

It was, in every sense, a beautiful journey.

Thank You

Where Joy Begins, Champions Grow

Imagine us as two friends in a stadium, watching a game between youth teams with children aged 12 and below. Seeing them run with joy, express their skills, and show their unique quirks is pure delight. It reminds us: development is not about control—it’s about nurturing a child’s inborn passion.

When children are passionate, lack of concentration or boredom rarely arises. They are fully engaged, immersed in the moment, and enjoying every second. But when boredom sets in, learning stops. Over time, children disengage, leave the sport, and seek excitement elsewhere. This may explain why youth sports today face high dropout rates, and why even those who stay in elite programs often struggle to reach world-class levels.

From my experience as a coach, a child’s development can be divided into two phases: ages 0–16 should be learning-oriented, and from 17 onwards, performance-oriented. Sports like gymnastics or swimming may require earlier specialization, but the principle remains: each stage demands a different approach.

During the learning phase, children need an environment filled with fun, curiosity, and excitement. Learning begins when the mind is happy. When we’re happy, the body releases dopamine, serotonin, endorphins, and oxytocin—what my sister Ragini calls “happy chemicals.”

In adolescence, the focus shifts. Athletes must align with structure, expectations, and performance goals. Sustaining passion is key: a passionate brain keeps growing, and a coach’s first responsibility is to coach the mind.

Winning is satisfying, but for a development coach, true success lies in watching players grow—in their values, character, education, and humanity.

Observe babies: they fall, get up, and try again without fear. They see failure as learning, not defeat. This natural growth mindset—the joy of learning, not just winning—is the foundation of success in sports, business, or academics.

Science backs this up: the brain is like a muscle, growing stronger with use. Neural connections multiply with challenge. The more a child learns, the more the brain develops.

Yet coaches face pressure. Environments often prioritize results: outcomes are public, performances are judged, and wins matter. But this pressure should not define a coach’s purpose. The focus must remain on teaching skills, encouraging practice, and fostering improvement.

Sport reflects life. Lessons in perseverance and resilience become tools for navigating challenges. Children are our future, and as development coaches, we must learn alongside them. Excellence in a program unlocks infinite potential; mediocrity limits it.

Thank You

Note: some of the above facts were sourced from the book written by Carol S. Dweck Ph.D.: Mindset-The New Psychology Of Success.

Parents: The First Coaches Of Champions

Many years ago, a survey conducted by the USA Olympic Council among medalists from the 1956 Melbourne Olympics to the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics asked a simple yet powerful question: Who was the greatest motivator behind your success?

The majority pointed to their parents. Others credited their coaches, and some their friends.

Though the survey was conducted decades ago, its message remains timeless—parents play a pivotal role in shaping a child’s journey in sport.

We have all come across inspiring success stories of athletes, and more often than not, behind their triumph stands a parent who believed, guided, and sacrificed.

One such powerful example is the story of two of the world’s greatest tennis champions, Venus and Serena Williams, as shared in the book Bounce by Matthew Syed.

Their parents, Richard and Oracene Williams, had never played tennis. Yet, that did not stop them. Determined to give their daughters a chance, they learned the game themselves—just so they could practice with them.

Richard, driven by a bold vision, immersed himself in learning. He studied training methods, watched videos of top players, read extensively, and even consulted coaches and psychologists. Despite living in an economically challenged environment, Richard and Oracene created a space where discipline, belief, and possibility could thrive.

Venus once said of her father: "My father worked hard to build our technique. He was innovative, and our training was full of fun and excitement. It made us want to be at practice even before he arrived."

Recognising their daughters’ potential, Richard invited renowned coach Rick Macci to observe them. Impressed by their talent and athleticism, Macci welcomed them to train at his academy in Florida. The rest, as we know, is history.

An interesting aspect of their journey is that Richard also chose a sport that offered strong professional opportunities—showing that vision, when paired with planning, can shape not just passion but also future security.

However, the role of parents extends beyond the field. Many young athletes who specialise early in sports may drift away from academics. This is where guidance becomes crucial. Education must not be neglected. In particular, mathematics deserves attention—it sharpens thinking and opens doors to knowledge and opportunity.

The world our children grow up in today is vastly different from the past. There was a time when open fields were playgrounds and sport was the primary source of joy. Today, children are surrounded by malls, screens, video games, social media and endless digital distractions competing for their attention.

As environments change, so do desires.

A child, however, remains what it has always been—a flame waiting to be lit.

Every experience, every word, every influence shapes that flame. And at the center of it all stands the parent.

A child is like a candle—full of potential, yet waiting for light.

Parents, be that light.

Thank You

Note: improvise from earlier article on this blog

Why Malaysian Hockey Is Losing The Mental Game

A few years ago, I took my nephew to a colouring competition at a nearby mall. He was thrilled—colouring was something he truly loved. The environment, however, was chaotic: children screaming, loud music blaring, shoppers moving around. Yet, for three hours, he remained completely absorbed in his work.

Watching him, I realised something fundamental—when passion exists, the brain naturally locks into focus.

This is not just an observation; it is psychology.

What we often call “a lack of concentration” is, in reality, a lack of emotional engagement. The brain focuses effortlessly on what it finds meaningful. When passion is present, attention flows naturally. When it is absent, the mind wanders.

So when we constantly tell athletes to “concentrate,” we may be missing the real issue. Focus is not the problem—motivation, emotion, and connection are.

This brings us to Malaysian hockey.

The Malaysian Hockey Confederation (MHC) has invested heavily in international expertise to raise technical standards. This is commendable. But performance at the highest level is not driven by technique alone—it is driven by the mind.

Sports psychology teaches that elite performance relies on three mental pillars: intrinsic motivation, emotional regulation, and attentional control. Training sessions can teach technique. Coaches can demonstrate skills. But the brain only truly learns through repetition fueled by internal desire. Without this, learning remains superficial.

I experienced this myself preparing for the 1991 Olympic qualifier. I struck thousands of balls, focusing on the mechanics of my penalty corner hit. Yet real improvement only came when I developed mental control—calmness under pressure, clarity in execution, emotional stability.

From a psychological perspective, this is the shift from conscious effort to automatic execution. Skills reside in implicit memory. Under pressure, the brain either retrieves these skills seamlessly—or disrupts them through anxiety. A tense mind tightens the body, and timing and precision vanish. A calm mind lets the body do what it already knows.

This is why composure is not a “soft skill”—it is a performance skill.

And here, our system is falling short.

We are producing players who are physically trained but mentally made dull. Players who rely on external instruction rather than internal drive. Players who perform well in controlled settings but crumble under pressure.

External rewards cannot replace intrinsic motivation. In fact, over-reliance on them can weaken the brain’s natural drive—a principle well established in motivational psychology. The world’s best athletes are driven not by rewards, but by mastery—a deep need to improve, refine, and excel consistently. 

Consistency is mental, not physical. And inconsistency, now the hallmark of our national team, reflects psychological instability: fluctuating confidence, poor emotional control, and fragmented focus.

If this continues, we face more than a performance problem—we face a developmental crisis.

Young players often enter the system full of motivation, but without the right psychological environment, that initial spark gradually fades. When pressure is applied without purpose, it leads to burnout; when structure exists without meaning, it breeds disengagement. This disconnect helps explain the rising attrition rate. Thousands of young athletes have passed through programmes like Sukan Teras, 1MAS, and the National Hockey Development Programme, yet true development is not measured by numbers alone—it is ultimately defined by mindset

Have we built mentally resilient players?

Have we nurtured intrinsic motivation?

Have we put in place a growth mindset environment?

Resilience, intrinsic motivation, perseverance and growth mindset are not imposed-they are cultivated. And they are born from one source-a genuine love for the game.

 Love what you do—that is the highest form of excellence.

For years, I have said we are “so close, yet so far.” Today, I fear something worse—that we are becoming mentally unprepared for the level we aspire to reach.

If this is not addressed, the Olympics dream will be lost—not for lack of talent, but because we failed to understand the most powerful organ in human performance: the brain.

The brain controls the body.

There is a saying: two people can look at the same stars and see different things. From where I stand, Malaysian hockey is not just stagnating—it is regressing psychologically.

Thank You

Note: The above article is revised and updated from earlier writings on this blog

Seek Knowledge-Happy Deepavali

May the light be upon you

Due to COVID-19, your freedom to celebrate this festival of lights is restricted to contain the spread of the pathogen. Your movement can be restricted, but not your brain. In challenging times like these, the brain works wonders, unfortunately, not in a positive sense but a negative one: fear. You are living in fear of contracting the virus, your livelihood, your children's future, political stability, etc.

Out of fear of this uncertain time, you hope to find answers to the many questions that impinge on your mind now. Fear only breeds fear, and it further darkens your journey in life.

What your mind needs now is a light that will give the silver lining that will obliterate this darkness; this light is none other than "knowledge," as Ralph Waldo Emerson once said: "The antidote to fear is knowledge."

Knowledge begins in wonder but has no end, and it is never complete as we humans keep on evolving to find ways to live a healthy and prosperous life. To put it simply, knowledge is a journey and not a destination. In essence, good and bad are part of knowledge, and it depends on how you apply it in your life.

For my dear and wise friend, the Late Mr V.M. Chandran, knowledge gained from life is for the betterment of "mankind" and not to exploit "mankind." He was an avid reader and had excellent observation skills.

Mr. V.M. Chandran's belief was that when you are blessed with knowledge, you should be the light that will light up others' lives. He is a man who shares the wisdom of great sages. Gaining knowledge is the first step to wisdom. Sharing is the first step to humanity.

Every festivity has its meaning that we can apply in our lives, and Deepavali, the festival of lights, symbolises the victory of light over darkness, good over evil, and knowledge over ignorance; encapsulating all these, it comes down to one: knowledge. "The first end of life is knowledge; the second end of life is happiness. Knowledge and happiness lead to freedom," the wise words of Swami Vivekananda.

Be Safe. Take Care

 

Thank You