On the final whistle all hell broke loose. I rushed to the Singapore dugout. I sensed tension, but also to seek shelter to take photos. As I took pictures, objects flying past me. Water bottles, cups. The atmosphere was tense. This was going to get worse. I was almost hit by a bottle fill with what I hoped wasn’t actually urine. Suddenly, a loud sound on my left. A broken wooden seat, probably ripped out by angry fans hits the ground next to me. I begin looking for missiles' from everywhere. This is my first encounter with angry fans, it’s hard not to feel fear, but my photographer’s instinct takes over.
I head to the middle of the field. The missiles are less likely to reach me there. From here I can see the broader picture of chaos. Plastic bottles and rubbish rain onto the people on pitch. The only safe haven – the dugout. Lions XII gather under theirs. I see my picture. The angry crowd in the background. The expressions of the players some fearful, the older ones showing their experience by keeping calm. Is it reckless to risk my safety for a picture? Maybe, but I’m the only photographer in Singapore who got those shots.