Kelong Kings: Confessions of the world's most prolific match-fixer (47 page)

Meanwhile, the three
weeks in prison had abruptly interrupted my frenetic activity. I had
lost contact with my boys around the world and was rendered
unavailable to those trying to get in touch with me. As soon as I was
out I sought the Nigerians. I had gotten them qualified to the World
Cup and they were supposed to repay me with their South African
training camp and their warm-up friendly matches: three games against
opponents of my choice and with my referees at the helm. I called
Prince for an update.

"Hey Prince,
how are things?" I asked. "What's happening with the
training camp, and are you going to give me the three games or what?"

But the Nigerians
started playing hide and seek with me.

"We were
looking for you high and low", Prince said. "You went
missing for weeks. We've already made arrangements for our training
camp with somebody else".

The message was
pretty clear: they had fucked me up. I was neither going to arrange
their camp nor would I get the three matches and, much to my regret,
Mozambique wasn't going to get the 100 thousand dollars that they
were promised. Had these Nigerian mother-fuckers given me even a
single friendly game, I would have surely paid Mozambique. Nigerians
can never be trusted in a deal; that much I gathered from my
experience with them.

The betrayal of
Nigeria wasn't the end of it. When I got back to my office, I noticed
that there were a series of outgoing e-mails from Football4U's
account. It was a newsletter of sorts that had been sent to all of my
business contacts while I was locked up.

"With effect
from today", read the e-mail, "Football4U will be taken
over by a new company".

The new company
mentioned in the letter was none other than Danny's Singaporean
events management outfit. Fuck.

As I sat staring at
the computer screen in bewilderment, I remembered the day when Danny
had come seeking my help; he was desperate.

"Hey Wilson",
he had pleaded, "I'm struggling. Why don't you give me a job?
I've got a wife, I'm going to have a kid soon, I have an outstanding
car loan. Fuck, come on man, give me a job".

"OK", I
had said, "you can become a runner for me and take care of some
of my errands. But Danny, you know the nature of this job. If
something goes wrong and you end up being caught, I don't want your
mother, your brother or your wife pointing their fingers in my
direction. Do you understand?"

I've
always tried not to drag my personal friends into the match-fixing
business because, when one gets arrested, people have the tendency to
blame others for it. In the end, everyone should take responsibility
for their actions and decisions
.
I considered
Danny to be a real friend until that very day, when he attempted to
take over my business behind my back. I confronted him about the
e-mail.

"I thought that
you'd never come out of prison again", he stuttered. "I
thought that my company could take over and preserve your business so
I decided to send the message".

Although I was
burning with rage, I gave Danny the benefit of the doubt; I guess
that, given the circumstances, I would have acted in the same manner.
After all, Danny hadn't stolen my money this time around. I had
recently sent him to the United States with 200 thousand dollars to
pay some players for me and he had behaved properly. He had traveled
with his mistress, each of them carrying 100 thousand dollars in
their pockets, and they had not overstepped their bounds. I decided
to buy Danny's version of the story and give him another chance.

On
February 24
^th
,
2010, the USA were playing an international friendly match against El
Salvador in Tampa, Florida. Since my passport was impounded, I needed
somebody to travel there and run the show for me so I sent Danny out
once again. I had started preparing for this match before my
three-week detention. Although I had some money that I could wager on
the game, I spread the word that I was looking for bosses to finance
my venture so that I could maximize my profits. After much
networking, I came across Harry who agreed to finance the fix
together with a friend of his named George.

The day before the
game in the United States, however, Harry and I tried to manipulate
an AFC Cup match between the Malaysian state team Selangor FA and
Binh Duong FC, a Vietnamese side, in Shah Alam, Malaysia. We wanted
the Malaysian team to lose but I guess that the Vietnamese were also
fixing and Harry and I lost 100 thousand dollars each on the game.
Then, right before leaving for the US, Harry confessed to me that
those had been his last 100 thousand dollars, that he had no more
money for the fix in the United States and asked me to lend him 50
thousand dollars, which I readily made available to him.

"Wilson",
Harry admitted in a distraught tone, "I'm desperate and have no
money left to lose. I'm going to take the risk and get the credit for
this match from Ah Kang. If I lose, I won't be able to pay up. That
means I'll be fucked".

After the trick I
had pulled on Ah Kang at the Sheraton Hotel, I had heard rumors that
he had approached Harry and his trade group to settle the score with
me. I was well aware of the risks of teaming up with Harry but was
also ready to face anyone around a table. I knew that I was in the
right and, when you're in the right, you don't have to fear anyone:
you fuck me up, I fuck you back. No one had come looking for me yet;
everyone knew that Ah Kang had fucked me up first and that I was now
on level terms with him.

"You can go to
Ah Kang", I said to Harry, "I don't care who you go to,
just find the money for the match. After landing the game, you cover
me for two or three hundred thousand on the following fixture".

Harry agreed and
called Ah Kang to convince him to do business on the USA vs El
Salvador game, but Ah Kang refused.

"Why should I
do your ticket", asked Ah Kang, "when I've already found
out the score for this match by paying a mere ten thousand dollars to
a Chinese informer?"

Harry failed to
inform me that Ah Kang had turned down his offer and that he had been
tipped off on our match. Harry traveled with Danny and George to
Tampa, Florida, as if everything were running smoothly as planned.

Once in the US, the
trio was joined by Armando, a friend of Armando and Javier, our
Panamanian travel agent. Armando and the others had arranged for six
El Salvadorean players to meet with Harry and the boys before the
match. As soon as Danny called to update me on the situation, I
instructed him meticulously on what he was supposed to say and do.

"Look Danny",
I slowly explained, "make sure that you meet the El Salvador
boys before Harry does. Since none of them speak English, Javier will
be making the introductions. You get Armando and his friend to pose
as two additional players, bringing the total number of footballers
from six to eight. This way we will quote Harry and Ah Kang 180
thousand dollars instead of 150 thousand".

The 30 thousand
dollar surcharge was supposed to cover the cost of the airfares and
accommodation for Danny, George, Armando, Javier and Armando's
friend.

"Do you
understand?" I asked Danny.

"Yes, boss".

This was one of the
simplest instructions that I have ever handed out in my life. Around
an hour later, I received a call from Harry.

"Wilson",
he was confused, "why is Danny saying that there are eight El
Salvador players ready to do business while Javier is saying that
there are only six?"

"Is it so?"
mother-fucker, I knew it. "Let me check with Danny and get back
to you".

I
called Danny once again and fucked him up
and
down
like I've
never fucked anyone before.

"You dumb
mother-fucker", I yelled. "I told you, didn't I? You had to
be the first person to meet the boys and all you had to do was tell
Javier to tell Harry that there were eight players on board and not
six. Please explain to me what wasn't clear in what I had told you to
do?"

Danny was the
perfect personification of the "never judge a book by its cover"
idiom. His cover was glossy and smart, but the contents of the book
were completely fucked. In the end, despite Danny's lack of a
thinking brain, everything seemed to be ready for the United States
vs El Salvador game. Then, right before the match kicked off, I
received another call from Harry.

"Wilson",
he said, "the volume is too small. It's just not worth it. I'm
calling the game off".

I immediately
checked on a number of gambling websites and found that the volumes
offered were extremely low; one click was only 400 dollars, a very
rare occurrence for an international friendly fixture.

"You are
right", I said to Harry. "It's not worth it".

I
shut my computer down and began thinking about the following match.
But when USA vs El Salvador kicked off, the volumes suddenly rose to
12 thousand dollars per click; they were huge. Harry, however, failed
to inform me again and decided to act on his own. He joined hands
with Danny, who had by then revealed the two-extra-players plot to
him, and the duo decided to double cross me. Harry called Ah Kang and
convinced him that the information that he had bought on the match
from his Chinese informer was unreliable; he pulled Ah Kang into the
fix then, at half time, instructed the El Salvadoreans to concede two
goals before the end of the match. The first half had ended nil-nil
then, at the beginning of the second half, El Salvador netted a goal.
At that point, the six corrupt El Salvadoreans went to work; they
conceded the equalizer in the 75
^th
minute then, during injury time,
their goalkeeper made a silly pass to one of the defenders, who was
dispossessed of the ball, allowing the US to score their second goal.
Final result: 2-1. Two goals conceded in the second half; Harry and
Danny had won their bet.

I was totally in the
dark about what had happened in Florida. When I spoke to Harry's
friend George after the match, he fed me a bullshit story about a day
spent at the casino in Miami. I later found out that the fuckers had
cheated me thanks to a silly mistake that they made. Danny called his
uncle, asking him to fly from Singapore to the US with money for the
players, and used my travel agency to book the ticket. I was the
agency's best client ever, flying 30 people around the globe at any
given time of the year. My travel agent was loyal to me and thought
to inform me the minute she issued Danny's uncle's ticket.

"Good day
Wilson", she announced, "did you know that Danny's uncle is
traveling to Los Angeles with money, about 70 thousand dollars?"

"Oh, I didn't
know that", I replied, marveling at her punctuality on the exact
amount of cash that Danny's uncle was carrying. "Thank you for
the information".

"Don't tell
anybody that I was the one who informed you", she added.

"Don't worry".

Why buy the ticket
from my travel agent when you know that I might find out about it? I
told you, Danny is one of the dumbest mother-fuckers that I've ever
encountered. I remember that he once came asking me for financial
help.

"All right",
I said to him. "Find a financier and raise some money by this
date. I have a sure win game in my hands and you can invest on it for
free".

On the day of the
match I was so busy that I completely forgot about Danny. I
remembered about him much later in the evening, after the match, when
I was about to go to sleep, and rang him up.

"You fucker,
why didn't you get in touch with me?" I asked. "Did I not
tell you that I had a game today?"

"I don't have
your number", Danny stammered.

"You could have
sent me an e-mail, you stupid fucker. You have my e-mail address.
It's your ass that's on fire, not mine".

"My internet at
home is down", Danny lamented, giving with one of the lamest
excuses that I have ever heard.

"If your
internet is not working then fucking get your ass into an internet
café and send me a message".

That time I felt so
sorry for the stupid fucker that I gave him nine thousand dollars
from my own pocket.

Harry
and Danny were flying Danny's uncle to Los Angeles because El
Salvador was set to play another friendly match against Guatemala
there on March 3
^rd
;
the fuckers needed money to bribe the players. I called Harry and,
without revealing what I knew, subtly inquired about the game in LA.
Harry guaranteed that he wouldn't be fixing that one either.