The Intricacies of Chasing A Dream By Danelle Tan
In the world of professional football, “the dream” is often sold as a montage of highlights and trophies. But for Danelle Tan, the dream is a technical, often grueling process of trial and error. From the sweltering pitches of Singapore to the tactical classrooms of Germany and Japan, Danelle has spent her young career navigating a series of high-stakes “firsts.” Yet, she speaks with a clarity that belies her age, viewing her trailblazing status not as a burden, but as a byproduct of a much deeper, more personal pursuit. This is a look into the mechanics of her ambition—the sacrifices made in silence and the internal permission required to chase a path no one else could see.
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From the pitches in Singapore to the technical intensity of Tokyo Verdy, your path has been anything but “traditional.” In a culture that often prizes stability and conventional careers, where did you find the internal permission to take the “unseen path” and bet entirely on yourself?
This journey has been as much about my own effort as the incredible support I’ve received along the way. “Life is not fair.” My father repeatedly drilled this into my siblings and me when we were young. The quicker you learn to live with that fact instead of complaining, the more time you can focus on improving your situation rather than sulking in it.
I’ve put in a tremendous amount of work and made real sacrifices to get to where I am today, but I also acknowledge how fortunate I’ve been. I’ve had parents who believed in me from day one. I’ve had the financial stability to take risks that many people simply can’t afford. Not everyone gets these advantages.
The question isn’t whether your circumstances are perfect. They will never be. It’s whether you’re willing to work with what you have and build something from it. This is the path I chose, but it’s also one I’ve been privileged enough to pursue.
In Singapore, you are the “First” in almost every category—Europe, Germany, Japan. At the Pitch Invaders, athletes often talk about the burden of representation. Does being a “trailblazer” ever feel like a heavy backpack you have to carry, or is it the fuel that keeps you running in the 90th minute?
For clarity, our national team captain, Rosnani Asman, was actually the first Singaporean to play in Japan, having joined INAC Kobe Leonessa in 2021.
I never focus on the fact that I am trailblazing a path for younger girls. I’m more focused on how I can keep becoming a better player. That’s where my focus has to be. But when younger players reach out, whether it’s girls looking for guidance or kids who just want to connect, I’m always happy to help. I genuinely believe each of them will carve out their own path, not just follow mine.
That said, I’ve come to understand that being a role model isn’t separate from my journey. It’s a part of it. The more visible I become, the more young athletes are watching, and that comes with responsibility. So while my main goal is to keep improving as a player, I also know that’s not enough. I don’t just want to be a good player. I want to be a good person.
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Injury is the one opponent an athlete cannot outrun. When you are forced into the “silence” of rehab, how do you maintain your mental edge when your body isn’t cooperating? How do you practice that “education of the self” to ensure you return more adaptable than you were before the setback?
I think injuries can actually be a valuable opportunity for an athlete to step back and refresh. When I tore my MCL in 2019 and was out for about 3 months, I had to learn to live life without football. It’s sometimes hard to separate Danelle the person from Danelle the footballer. Your entire life revolves around football and its schedule. When that’s suddenly taken away, you get this extra time to really reflect and remind yourself why you fell in love with the game in the first place.
When I had to get knee surgery in Australia last season, it was incredibly hard. But I learned that there are different ways to contribute to a team beyond what happens on the pitch. I’d always been used to starting with the national team, so being sidelined was a real adjustment. It taught me how to be a better teammate. How to support and encourage others with genuine humility, even when you’re competing for the same spot. That’s not always easy, but it’s what being part of a team really means.
You gave up a secure US college path for a fifth-tier German side. If you were writing a “Letter to My Younger Self” about that decision today, would you describe it as an act of bravery or a moment of “beautiful madness”?
The decision to choose Dortmund was not a light decision. I knew everything that hung in the balance. But my dream has always been to play football professionally. And at the time, it just seemed that Dortmund would have been the better choice to help me reach my destination. I don’t have any regrets.
Sometimes I look back on the big decisions I’ve made along this journey. I see them as forks in the road, all leading down different paths. The different lives I would have, could have, lived. I sometimes wonder what life would be like if I had chosen to get a university degree in the US.
You recently announced that you’re working on a book—could you tell us a bit more about what we can expect? When did you first fall in love with writing, and more importantly, can we look forward to purchasing a signed copy in the future?
I’ve only ever had one thing on my bucket list: write a book. I’ve loved reading since I was young. Not just the stories themselves, but the craft of good writing.
I especially enjoy reading autobiographies. I’m fascinated by other people’s experiences told from their own perspective. The behind-the-scenes of an athlete’s climb to the top. How a president thinks through impossible decisions. The obsessive journey of an Indian shooter who won his country’s first individual Olympic gold and carried the weight of a billion expectations with it. For a few hundred pages, I get to inhabit someone else’s life, to see the world through their eyes.
But I’ve noticed something. Almost every biography and autobiography is written in hindsight. The author has already lived through the struggle, already emerged victorious. The story is told with the comfort of knowing how it ends, with the knowledge that they made it. Very few stories are told in the middle of the journey.
So here’s a bit of mine:
“This is a biography written in the middle of the struggle. Not from some comfortable terrace where the past is trimmed and displayed like trophies. Not from a safe distance where feelings settle into polite, teachable shapes. I am writing with the page against my chest and the pitch under my feet. I am writing while my muscles still remember the last sprint, and the next contract is still unknown. I am writing while everything is still moving.”
Danelle Tan is not looking for a finish line. While the rest of the world waits to see where her journey ends, she is busy finding the beauty in the process—the scars, the tactical adjustments, and the quiet hours spent writing. She is a testament that a dream isn’t just a destination you reach; it’s a series of intricacies you live through every single day. As she steps onto the pitch, she does so with the knowledge that the most important chapter is always the one she is currently writing.
📷 Football Association of Singapore, SNOC/Lim Wei Xiang & ©️TOKYO VERDY