A spectacular beating against a familiar drubbing

The contrasts are too stark to miss.

On a sunny Sunday of November, different fates, both within human control and, therefore, within the commerce of human intervention, visited a country called the Philippines.

In Grapevine, Texas, the US state which my favorite country trio Dixie Chicks once said they were ashamed former President George Bush is from, Manny Pacquiao outdid himself anew by dealing the Mexican Antonio Margarito a beating, so severe that the self-styled “tornado” had his right eye stitched first, then operated on for it to be able to see, well, the eye of the storm—Pacquiao—from Sarangani.

In Guangzhou, China, the Asian powerhouse where the 16th Asian Games are being held, Team Philippines suffered a familiar drubbing in almost all the sports it has entered.

The drubbing was so thorough, so lopsided and, therefore, so miserable that now I wonder whether the money, public or private, spent on the Filipino sportsmen who went there should have been better poured into building classrooms, buying books, or, if really we are to be in sports, in installing electric chairs for our sports officials who are solely to be blamed for the debacle.

I will say something first about the latter and say nothing at all about the former, for Pacquiao and his conquests are already well-written about, while our failures in international amateur sports tournaments, like the Olympics, the Asiad, and the ASEAN Games are, well, because these are failures, mentioned rarely, and when they are, only in hushed tones as if these are a dreaded disease.

So we failed in tennis, swimming, shooting, billiards, judo, and cycling. We salvaged a couple of bronzes in dance sport by gracefully swinging in cha-cha and paso doble. We won our first hurdle in basketball by narrowly beating Kuwait. In chess, our wood pushers are in still in the hunt, but the tournament is far from over.

Our hope is in boxing, Manny’s domain, but he is not in Guangzhou. He is in Lake Tahoe for his celebratory after-fight-night concert. Your Honor will sing in real life after singing all his way to the bank to the tune of US$20 million, and still counting.

Yes, boxing. The Philippine pugilists in the Asiad are bankrolled by telecoms giant Smart which reportedly had poured P300 million in the sweet science, as well as in basketball, cycling, wrestling, and taekwondo.

“We’ll be happy if we could bring home at least one gold.” This is according to Ricky Vargas, president of the Amateur Boxing Association of the Philippines.

What’s wrong with this statement? Indeed, what’s wrong with our mal-performance in the Asiad?

It’s us, Virginia, it’s us that’s wrong. We are being clobbered in the amateur sports tournaments because our sports officials are amateurish. They are incompetents. They are selfish and a greedy lot. And they don’t know any more of the sports they are into than Peter Drucker knew managing athletes. The worst is that they quarrel a lot.

I am not into sports, I admit, but I read. And I notice. I notice that almost after every international sports tournament where our athletes come home defeated and dejected, the very first thing—and this is with regularity—our sports officials do is to blame the government, the system, the officiating, the weather, the late training, the athletes, and then their fellow officials, but NEVER themselves. Did you also notice that?

This blame game is a prelude to their mini-turf wars they mount when they start carving up our sports associations into personal fiefdoms. Our sports officials like to rule, never to be ruled. Their interest is not the athletes’ interest, but the interest that banks pay on their fat accounts.

Our sports officials are very good at this, quarrelling. They never hesitate to quarrel in public. Name me a sports whose governing association had not been beset by quarrel, jealousy, and personal animosity and I’ll tell you why we always get waylaid by opponents who are more united, well-managed, well-trained, well-fed.

Grandmaster Joey Antonio is a classic victim of this quarrelling. He almost didn’t make it to Guangzhou because Philippine Chess Federation officials have been feuding. The Samahang Basketbol ng Pilipinas is another sports association wracked by intramurals. In fact, because of bickering, the International Olympic Committee has suspended the country’s amateur basketball body so much so that the Philippine basketball team in the Asiad is playing under the IOC banner.

Government intervention in amateur sports is also a culprit. The Philippines has a very unique governing set-up in sports that allows the government to interfere in sports affairs even if it has no business—and no competence—to do so. Government officials may be well-versed in running the bureaucracy but they are ill-suited for even a medal made of tin in, say, bowling.

There is a sports regulating body, the National Sports Commission, whose work, it would seem, other than withholding financial assistance to Philippine sports is to ensure that politicians are nominated and are elected officials of the private sports associations.

Prospero Pichay in chess; Monico Puentebella in baseball, Eric Buhain in swimming, Peping Cojuangco in basketball, and Cristy Ramos-Jalasco in tennis are some of the personages known for their bloodlines in politics rather than excellence in sports. Not even amateur boxing is spared from politics. Not too long ago, PATAFA, the governing body in track and field, was wracked by troubles because some of its officials wanted to kill each other. The list is endless.

And so, are we surprised that we—Team Philippines—are getting licked by far superior competition in Guangzhou?

Nah. But wait till the 16th Asiad is over. I’ll bet my gin money that our sports officials will be at it again: quarrelling and thirsting for the hinds and blood of everyone except themselves.