‘I’m in the 85th minute’: Charyl Chappuis on the people and moments that made him

Charyl Chappuis has experienced football’s highs, from becoming a world champion with Switzerland at 17 to helping Thailand reclaim Southeast Asia’s crown in 2014. Yet when he traces those moments, the story begins not with a trophy but with his father.

There were drives to training, nights beside academy pitches and runs through dark Swiss forests. That work shaped a midfielder who crossed continents, became a national hero and found a second identity in Thailand. Now 34, and approaching what he calls the 85th minute of his career, Chappuis is measuring time differently.

Speaking to Ryan Walters on Tunnel Vision, he reflects on the triumphs that transformed his life, the injury that changed its direction and the affection that follows Thailand’s 2014 generation. He explains how becoming a father has brought the story full circle — and why he wants his son to see him play before the whistle arrives.

Editor’s note: Answers have been lightly edited for length and clarity.

How has becoming a father changed the way you see your life and career?

I always wanted to be a dad because my dad is one of my biggest heroes. He gave me so much, especially in football, supporting me and believing in my dream.

He has just turned one and the whole year flew by, but at the same time I tried to enjoy every minute: seeing him grow, seeing him smile. It makes me want to be a better person and realise that time is important. You should be present. Sometimes you forget that because you are on your phone too much or thinking about other things.

He has changed my life. I hope he can watch me play and understand it a little more, so I would love to have another season.

Your dream World Cup final is Thailand against Switzerland. Why is that the perfect match for you?

I won the Under-17 World Cup with Switzerland, so my dream would be playing for Thailand against Switzerland. I would love to see my dad in the stadium. I am pretty sure he would proudly wear the Thailand national team shirt.

Winning a senior World Cup with Thailand would mean even more for my family. I imagine Switzerland leading at half-time, then Thailand coming back. We equalise with a penalty and score the winner with the kind of passing football we played in 2014. I missed the finish to one beautiful move against Malaysia, so in my dream I score that one instead. Thailand win 2-1. You always need a little drama.

What did your father’s support look like when you were a young player in Switzerland?

My dad drove me around 45 minutes each way almost every day. I remember cold evening derbies against FC Zürich, with him standing beside the pitch, nervous and smoking. Those nights made the dream feel real.

We also did extra work: thousands of touches with both feet and timed runs through the forest, sometimes in the winter darkness. Once I broke all my records because one corner was so dark that I ran through it as fast as I could.

That work helped me win the trophies I won. I was lucky to have a father who understood sport and knew you had to do more to beat the best. Without him, I would not be the person or player I am. He is my hero.

What stays with you most from winning the 2009 FIFA U17 World Cup?

It was laughter, tears and pure emotion. No Swiss team had done it before. I thought about all the hard work: the late runs in the forest, my dad waiting with the clock and everything we had put into getting there.

Winning made the dream of becoming a professional feel much closer. Soon afterwards I signed my first contract, earned good money and could help my parents a little. People knew who I was.

We faced a generation including Neymar and Mario Götze. Years later, in Thailand, I played a friendly against Barcelona and shared a pitch with Lionel Messi and Cesc Fàbregas. For a Barcelona supporter, that was a dream coming true — even if I spent most of the match running after the ball.

Why does Thailand’s 2014 AFF Championship victory still connect so strongly with people?

We were a young team and Thailand had waited 12 years to win the tournament again. I think we changed Thai football in that moment. Even now people stop me in the street, at a food stall or on an away trip. They thank me for that team or for scoring in the final. Seeing their happiness makes me appreciate my life.

The return leg in Malaysia is something I will never forget. We were behind at half-time when coach Kiatisuk Senamuang played us a message of support connected to King Rama IX. My Thai was not very good, but I saw my teammates becoming emotional. It helped us believe. When Chanathip scored late, the trophy was almost ours.

Now I train with players who were six or seven in 2014. They remember my goal. That is special.

Buriram Stadium holds both one of your proudest atmospheres and the injury that changed your career. How do those memories coexist?

Buriram is my favourite stadium. The stands are close and, when it is full, it feels like a real football ground. I was lucky to play there during the beginning of the club’s great run. Its connection with the province made it special.

But my biggest injury also happened there. I hurt my knee celebrating an AFC Champions League goal, and my career changed from that moment. Football can give you your best and worst memories in the same place.

I would remove that moment, but not the stadium. It gave me much more than it took. Playing in the second tier, what I miss most is a full ground. Supporters give you another level of motivation.

If your career were a 90-minute match, what minute are you in — and what comes next?

I would say the 85th minute. I still want to give everything, and my dream is for my son to see me running on the pitch. That is why another season would mean so much. I enjoy every trip, training session and moment with my teammates — the things former players miss.

After football, I would love to stay in the game. Scouting young players interests me because I think I have a good eye and enjoy watching them take big steps. Coaching may be harder because I am sensitive; I am not sure I could handle 18 unhappy players and only the starting eleven being happy.

I would also like to give something back through an academy in Thailand. For now, though, the substitution board can stay down. There is still time left.