Sports in Indonesia aren't being supported by the government.

Taufik Hidayat, one of Indonesia’s greatest badminton champions, once declared: “Sports in Indonesia aren’t being supported by the government. The rewards you get as a young player don’t match the effort you put in. I want to be different from other athletes, if not better, and I want to make something good out of my profile and help the younger players have opportunities.” These words are not merely the reflections of a champion—they are the lament of a warrior who has seen the battlefield, tasted both victory and neglect, and now seeks to light the path for those who follow.

At the heart of this quote lies the eternal struggle between effort and reward. The young athlete trains for hours, sheds sweat and tears, dreams of glory, yet finds little support from those who should nurture talent. In Hidayat’s homeland, badminton is loved by the people but not always supported by the state. His words reveal the pain of imbalance: when the fire of youth is not fed, when the seed of talent is not watered, the field of champions withers. Yet instead of despair, he declares his resolve to be different.

The ancients understood this same dilemma. In Sparta, young warriors were trained and honored by their city, for the polis recognized that its survival depended upon their strength. But in other places, gifted men were ignored, their talents lost to the dust of time because no one believed in them. Hidayat’s words echo this truth: if a society does not uphold its athletes, inventors, or thinkers, the burden falls upon the individuals themselves to create opportunity, not only for their own sake, but for the generations yet to come.

His promise to use his profile for good is an act of nobility. Many athletes, after reaching glory, retreat into private comfort. But Hidayat declares a higher calling—to be more than a champion, to be a guide, a benefactor, a bridge for the young. In this, he reflects the pattern of history’s greatest leaders: Alexander who taught his generals, Gandhi who sought to lift the poor, Nelson Mandela who used his name not for riches but for justice. True greatness is not in holding power, but in transforming it into blessings for others.

Consider also the lesson of Muhammad Ali, who, after conquering the boxing world, became a voice for justice and equality, enduring punishment for standing by principle. Ali’s victories in the ring would have faded with time, but his courage in service made his legacy immortal. Hidayat’s words reflect the same understanding—that medals alone are temporary, but to give opportunities to the next generation is to plant seeds that will outlive the planter.

His words are also heroic in their defiance. To say, “I want to be different,” is to refuse the easy path of conformity. Many athletes accept the system as it is, surviving within its limits. Hidayat refuses this. He seeks to rise not only in skill, but in spirit, to embody the courage of the rebel who carves a new way forward. This is not only ambition—it is sacrifice, for to lift others requires effort beyond the court, into the realms of mentorship, advocacy, and vision.

Therefore, let this be the teaching drawn from Taufik Hidayat’s words: do not measure your life only by the rewards you receive, but by the impact you give. When systems fail you, rise above them. When rewards are scarce, let your legacy be abundance for others. Strive to be different, not only in greatness, but in generosity. For medals will tarnish and applause will fade, but the opportunities you create for those who come after you will echo through eternity like the flight of a shuttle across the court of history.