TEESSIDE League team Richmond Mavericks have just returned from a ten-day tour of Singapore and Malaysia, where they played four games. Owen Amos was in goal

WE were sitting by the quayside in Singapore, sipping Coke in the shadow of the city’s skyscrapers, when the phone rang. It was the Football Association of Singapore.

"Your games in Singapore cannot go ahead," they said. "You need permission from FIFA."

"That’s absurd," we said. We already have approval from the English FA – they have a special form – and the games have been organised for months. And besides: we’re an amateur team from the 12th tier of English football. This is Daft Lads on Tour, not a money-spinning march on the Far East.

The FAS were unmoved. They emailed across the FIFA forms, and told us to print, sign, and return them by 2pm. I looked at my watch. It was 1pm. And we didn’t have a printer.

I grabbed my phone and ran, looking for an internet café. There were none. I finally found a hostel, ran in, and explained the situation. Thankfully, they were happy to help.

As the printer whirred into action, I made conversation. “Do you like football?” I asked the young Singaporean man behind the counter.

“I’m a Newcastle fan,” he replied.

“Not going so well this season,” I said, sympathetically.

“No,” he said, his smile fading. “I blame Mike Ashley.”

WITH the forms signed and sent to Zurich, our first game could go ahead. It was against Home United – one of the best sides in Singapore – at their 4,000-seater ground.

We were a mixture of Northern League, Teesside League, and Sunday League players, so we’d asked to play their youth team.

“Four of our players have been away with Singapore Under-21s, so they will not play,” their manager told me.

That was a relief – there are more than five million people in Singapore, and their national team ain’t bad.

“Instead,” the manager continued, “we will replace them with youngsters from the first team.”

I walked into the changing room, where our guys were warming up. “There’s good news,” I said. “And there’s bad news…”

As expected, the young pros of Home United knocked the ball around at will, but after 40 minutes, it was still 0-0. Then we gave away a soft penalty. On the plus side: I saved it, tipping the ball onto the post. On the down side: they scored the rebound.

Full disclosure: I gave away the penalty.

We went on to lose 5-0, which flattered them. When we shook hands, they knew they’d been in a game.

We lost our next game 2-1 against Geylang International – another full-time side who played a mixture of pros and youngsters – and then beat Singapore Airlines, an amateur side, 5-2.

After a week in Singapore, we took a one-hour flight to the east coast of Malaysia, where we’d planned three days of lying on the beach (and perhaps one or two halves of the local brew).

We’d tried to organise a game, but were unable to cut through the multiple layers of Malaysian bureaucracy. And then, just before we set off for the coast, I received an email.

It was from the local FA in Malaysia. The game was on. But the best line was buried near the bottom:

“KICK-OFF TIME: 2045 Hours. VENUE: Stadium Darul Makmur.”

I typed “Stadium Darul Makmur” into Google Images and saw a 40,000 all-seater stadium glowing in sunshine, like a slightly-scaled down version of Real Madrid’s Bernabeu.

Our boys usually play on roped-off park pitches where grass is optional, and goal kicks are swallowed by biting wind.

THE tour to Singapore came about when the club’s co-founder, Andrew Mollitt, moved there in 2013 to teach maths. We’d already been to Sri Lanka in 2007 – where Andrew previously worked – and to Nepal in 2011. The club have also toured France (2005) and Switzerland (2011).

But – although we’ve been lucky enough to play football across Asia and Europe – the Stadium Darul Makmur heightened the senses like nowhere else.

The floodlights beamed like a hundred north stars. The top rows of seats were specks in the distance. Our voices echoed like hymns in a cathedral.

We walked onto the pitch behind a FIFA fair play banner, and then lined the centre circle for a minute’s silence for flights MH370 and MH17. We were 7,000 miles, and another world, from the Teesside League.

After 25 minutes we were 2-0 down against the local league’s select XI. But we immediately pulled one back, and then Joe Southgate smacked in a right-foot volley like a young Mark Hughes.

The game finished 2-2. Afterwards we feasted on keema naan and rice in the wood-panelled VIP lounge, laid on by our generous hosts.

Afterwards, we went to one of the town’s few western bars, and drank bottles of beer until they closed. Two days later, we were back in our normal, North Yorkshire existence. But for ten days, we had a taste of the professional’s life. Even the FIFA forms – those bloody FIFA forms – are a reminder of ten special days, and one manic afternoon running round the quayside in Singapore.

THE club would like to thank Swale Autos for their generous sponsorship.