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HEY
JOE
World Cup woes:
No power to the people
By Ted Lerner
ANGELES CITY, Philippines - It had been a
riveting, heart-wrenching first half of soccer in
Sunday's World Cup final. Brazil and Germany were going
toe to toe, blow for blow in front of the whole world
and with the score tied 0-0 it just couldn't get any
more exciting. The referee's whistle had just sounded
for half-time and it was time to stretch the legs and
get some refreshments. Then the unthinkable happened.
The power went out.
"This can't be
happening!" "You've got to be kidding me!" "I'm going to
kill somebody!" These were just some of the more
printable cries from the handful of fans gathered around
the television. Only 15 minutes to figure out what to
do.
Power outages in the Philippines, or
"brownouts" as they are known here, are a constant fact
of life. Sometimes they come in the middle of the night
and last until morning. Oftentimes they can come in the
morning and last until lunch. Or right when you're
sitting down to dinner for just a few irritating
minutes. Nobody can ever tell. But during the final game
of the World Cup? What now? Do we wait for the power to
come back on? Who knows when that'll be? Or do we head
out into the dark night, maybe to one of the local
hotels or bars that might have a generator? Just then it
starts to rain very, very hard. But of course, it's the
rainy season; that's natural. Now what? The German among
us was the most angry, obviously panicking.
"Every country in the world shows the World
Cup," he said, nearly hysterical. "The electric
companies break out the super backup generators, the
ones they only use for big occasions like the World Cup
finals game just so the populace doesn't revolt. They
don't want the headaches. But here in the Philippines
they just don't care. This is outrageous. All we want to
do is watch the World Cup in the comfort of home. How
come 'brownouts' never happen during the NBA finals in
the Philippines?"
It was a great point, and it
said it all about the Filipinos and their outlook on
sports. Get this: you could not watch the 2002 World Cup
soccer tournament in the Philippines live on television
in the comfort of your own home. Well, legally anyway.
Incredibly, not one cable company in the country
bothered even to buy time and carry the tournament. Even
in Manila you couldn't watch the tournament live at
home, unless you went to a swank bar owned by a
foreigner and were willing to plunk down the big bucks
for drinks and food. The large government station did
run one game a day, but they were games that had been
played the day before.
Here in the Wild West
town of Angeles City, where several thousand foreigners
reside in this former air force town, the local cable
company came shining through by blatantly pirating a
station out of Papua New Guinea and showing the games
live on its local station for the entire month. Because
the signal was not paid for, the cable company never did
any advertising. It took about a week into the
tournament for the word to get out that the local cable
station was indeed showing the games live every day.
Filipinos are often referred to as the Latins of
Asia, but there's one glaring difference between them
and their distant cousins half a world away. The
national obsession here is basketball, not soccer. The
national soccer team ranks 175th in the world, behind
such powerhouses as Laos and Cambodia. Despite the fact
that Spain ruled these islands for nearly 400 years, it
was the influence of the US colonizers back in the early
part of the century that seems to have won over
Filipinos' hearts and minds. Especially when it comes to
sport.
In many ways basketball is to the
Filipinos what soccer is to much of the rest of the
world. It's a simple game of the poor masses that
requires few if any resources to get a game going. A
ball and a hoop, a ball and goal. It's the same thing.
Basketball is the perfect representation of the
Filipino soul. There's nothing quite like traveling
around the far-flung provinces in the Philippines.
Basketball is clearly the passion of kids up and down
this archipelago. Kids who haven't yet seen electricity
or telephones can often be seen wearing tattered Chicago
Bulls Michael Jordan basketball jerseys, or the latest
craze, Los Angeles Lakers Shaquille O'Neal and Kobe
Bryant jerseys. A communist rebel might tell you as much
if not more about the US National Basketball Association
(NBA) playoffs than communist ideology.
Basketball brings about ingenuity born out of
necessity that can be a sight to behold. A hoop can be a
rusty wire tied up to a coconut tree, the ball any
worn-out thing that bounces. A court can be a patch of
dirt or sand by the beach. Athletic shoes are hardly
necessary, as rubber slippers and even bare feet will
do.
The Philippines was one of the first
countries outside the United States to have a
professional basketball league. Its main league, the
Philippine Basketball Association (PBA), has been in
existence for nearly 30 years. Nowadays there are
several pro leagues in the country running year-around
to the never-ending delight of rabid audiences.
Indeed, Filipinos are darn good at basketball.
They're scrappy, quick and tenacious. There's only one
glaring problem. As a race they have not been blessed
with the height to compete properly in a game where
height is of profound importance. Since much of the
world has taken up the game of basketball in the past 15
years, the Philippines' international standing has
plummeted considerably. Whereas the Philippines used to
be the dominant basketball team in Asia, these days it
regularly gets beaten by China, Japan and South Korea.
Soccer should really be the Filipinos' game.
Their natural quickness and athleticism is ideal for
soccer. If they would put as much energy into soccer as
they do into basketball, Filipinos could make serious
strides in the sport. Tell Filipinos, however, that the
country should put more money into soccer and the barbs,
and the accompanying laughs, come fast and ready.
"Nah, the officials would steal the money. After
one year there'd be no money left for uniforms," said
one Filipino. "We Filipinos are good at gambling, not
football," replied another. "They'd rather go to the
cockfights."
It's part of the fatalistic nature
of Filipinos that they've come to accept that certain
things in life are just not meant to be. Well, fair
enough. They like their basketball. So be it. But the
World Cup is, well, the World Cup, right? Soccer is the
world's most popular game and this was the championship
match, so why did the power have to go out right then
and there? Can't they make sure the power stays on at
least for this?
Seeking logical answers to
logical questions often leads to frustration in the
Philippines. And so, as we sat in the darkness and the
rain came down in buckets and the minutes ticked away,
we cursed everything in sight and wondered how it was
that we had all invested a month of our time enjoying
this brilliant sporting event - mostly illegally by
watching it on the pirated station from Papua New Guinea
- marveling at everything from the level of skill of the
players to the way teams try to impose their will on
their opponents, the sportsmanship amid the heat of
battle, the pageantry of the world coming together in
the name of this most basic of sports, and we were
likely to miss the second half of the title game with
the score tied 0-0.
And then a funny thing
happened.
The power suddenly came back on. And
only one minute after the second half of the game began.
Well, it sure was an exciting night, wasn't it? Indeed,
but I bet it would never happen during the NBA finals.
Ted Lerner is the author of the book
Hey, Joe - A
Slice of the City, an American in Manila. He can be
reached via e-mail at tedlheyjoe@yahoo.com.
(©2002 Asia Times
Online Co, Ltd. All rights reserved. Please contact content@atimes.com
for information on our sales and syndication policies.)
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