We’re only a few weeks into the new season of Indonesia’s lower leagues, and already one of the country’s most persistent footballing problems has reared its head again — unpaid wages. While clubs such as PSM Makassar, PSIS Semarang, Sriwijaya FC, and Persewar Waropen have long had their financial woes documented, the recent case of Patriot Bekasi — a Liga 4 West Java side — stands out as both shocking and absurd.
Founded just in 2024, Patriot Bekasi made an instant impact by winning the 2024/25 Liga 4 West Java Series 2 in their debut season, earning promotion to Series 1 for the 2025/26 campaign. This achievement positioned them one step closer to the national round, where another successful run could have earned them yet another promotion up Indonesia’s football pyramid.
In preparation for this new challenge, the club appeared to be doing everything right. They strengthened their squad with new signings, including seasoned midfielder Ferry Aman Saragih, known as a promotion specialist in Indonesia’s lower leagues. They also secured a sponsorship deal with EMC Hospital Pekayon, unveiled new training kits, and even shared their league schedule across social media platforms — everything a club on the rise should be doing.
Drawn into Group B of the Liga 4 Series 1 first round, Patriot Bekasi were set to face Persipu FC (Depok), ASAD Purwakarta, and city rivals Persipasi Kota Bekasi. The matches, hosted in Purwakarta by ASAD, were scheduled from November 2 to November 6.
Then came the first sign of trouble. On November 2, Patriot Bekasi failed to show up for their opening fixture against ASAD Purwakarta, handing their opponents a 3-0 walkover victory. Two days later, they repeated the same no-show against Persipu FC, and on November 6, the highly anticipated Bekasi Derby against Persipasi never materialized either — Persipasi were awarded all three points by default.
The silence from the club was deafening, and questions began to mount. After weeks of preparation, sponsorship announcements, and new signings, what had happened to Patriot Bekasi?
The answer came on November 7, when several players — including Ferry Aman Saragih — broke their silence on social media. In a series of Instagram stories, they revealed the shocking truth behind the club’s disappearance.
“Football is not just a hobby but our means of living,” read their joint statement. “Only one day before the competition started, our participation was cancelled without a clear reason, even though we had been registered to compete. We have been training for at least two months without pay. Where is your responsibility?”
Their words were directed at the club’s owner, a Bekasi-based football influencer well-known in local circles. Further investigation into his social media activity painted a troubling picture — during the days when his team should have been training and competing, he was instead uploading videos of himself and his wife playing padel, a trendy racket sport gaining popularity in Indonesia.
Fans and observers quickly pieced together more details. The influencer had reportedly been involved in a previous controversy over unpaid debts related to an expensive football boot collection. Even more concerning was the discovery that he currently holds a management position at Persipasi, raising fears among fans that similar mismanagement could one day affect Bekasi’s other prominent club.
The Patriot Bekasi scandal is not an isolated incident — it’s another chapter in a long history of financial instability and poor governance that plagues Indonesian football, especially in its lower tiers. From unpaid wages to sudden club collapses, the pattern continues to repeat itself year after year, eroding trust in the system and leaving players — many of whom rely solely on football for their livelihood — in limbo.
Until clear financial regulations, ownership vetting, and wage protections are enforced across all divisions, stories like Patriot Bekasi’s will continue to resurface. For a club that once represented Bekasi’s emerging footballing pride, their downfall serves as yet another reminder that success in Indonesian football requires more than just passion and ambition — it demands responsibility, transparency, and respect for the players who give the game its meaning.