This appears in the Monday November 7, 2011 edition of the Business Mirror.
With Simon McMenemy at My Dinh National Stadium before the Philippines-Vietnam clash of December 2010 in the Suzuki Cup. Even before the match, you could see that I was all pumped up and believing in a miracle.
In a year’s
time
by rick olivares
When it was formally announced that
the Los Angeles Galaxy would be coming over to Manila to play an exhibition
match with the Philippine Men’s Football National Team, I caught the Tweet of
former Azkals head coach Simon McMenemy dated October 22 that read: “What a
difference 12 months makes. Dec 5th 2010 Philippines 2 Vietnam 0.
December 4th 2011 David Beckham and the LA Galaxy arrive to play in
Manila.”
So much had changed from that fateful
day. From the glaring lack of coverage and interest, the national team now was
hot copy on and off the field. They appeared in television commercials, print
ads, talk shows, and well, played some football in between. And the United
Football League like many other football programs and leagues were the
beneficiary of the sudden windfall of support. Prior to December 4, 2010, the
only matches of the nationals shown on television were in 2006 and 2008. Now
every move was videotaped, chronicled, and tweeted.
I flicked open my laptop and looked at
the pictures and videos of that day in Vietnam and a wave of nostalgia and
emotional swept me.
Not much was expected from that team.
Foes and everyone alike thought looked at the nationals as road kill. An easy
W. But the year that had begun with Desmond Bulpin in charge and ended with
McMenemy at the helm had seen marked change in their performance and team
discipline. If previously the Fil-fors were segregated from the locals in their
room assignments they were now mixed amongst themselves. That move had greatly
improved the relationships and the team’s time together on the pitch had done
wonders for chemistry. Aside from the training, what went largely unnoticed was
that the core of the 2004 squad – Emelio Caligdong, Aly Borromeo, Anton del
Rosario, Roel Gener, Ian Araneta, Peter Jaugan, and Chris Greatwich – were
entering their prime.
From the 2010 Long Teng Cup to the
Suzuki Cup Qualifiers, the team was playing much better.
So the team flew into Vietnam in
stealth mode. Why not? A few days earlier, the team, playing with an incomplete
lineup, was blown out by a Thai club in a friendly. At the opening press
conference for the Group B competition, all the talk was how Singapore and
Vietnam would advance from the group and how many goals they would score
against the Philippines (and Myanmar to an extent).
I have to admit that I was bursting
with energy over there. It was my first time to join the team outside domestic
competition. I distinctly recall McMenemy asking me, “You have that much faith
in us?”
I nodded. We were in a perfect
situation to garner some huge points. The team was a good one, there wasn’t any
pressure, and the opposing teams totally disrespected us. We drew against
Singapore and people still thought it was a fluke.
The morning of the match against
Vietnam, we were all down for breakfast when Ian Araneta went down and broke
the news that Phil Younghusband was taken ill because of what we all thought
was food poisoning. The trainers immediately went up and the news spread
quickly amongst the team. A lump formed in my throat as the coaching staff and
team manager Dan Palami quickly huddled to discuss it. Thirty minutes later,
Phil came down and looked pale if that sounds even possible given his fair
complexion. “I’ll play,” he pronounced and we somewhat felt reassured.
When the team bus left the Sheraton
for My Dinh National Stadium to play Vietnam, the streets were lined with fans
waving flags of the home side. The were stirrings already in the local media
about the Azkals draw against the Lions and how the team featured a number of
“Europeans.”
A crowd gathered outside the entrance
to the parking lot as the team arrived. If the locals cheered the Philippines
in the match against Singapore for sure they were going to do the opposite that
day.
Carrying my SLR camera, I stayed
behind the goal where the Philippines was shooting. I told McMenemy I hoped to
take a shot of our goals that day. Come kickoff, the teams switched sides and I
was caught in the wrong end. Since we were not allowed to move around once the
game commenced, I stayed put.
There were a bunch of Vietnamese
photographers behind the goal that Neil Etheridge was minding. A few of them
were shouting, cheering their team on. Neil looked behind and saw me. “I got
your back here,” I reassured him. Honestly, I didn’t sound too optimistic as my
teeth were chattering from the cold December night.
Vietnam was peppering the Philippine
goal with all these shots but the defense and Etheridge repulsed them. In the 38th
minute, Chris Greatwich headed in a cross from James Younghusband for the first
goal and I remember yelling my head off from behind the goal. Etheridge had
gone upfield to celebrate with his teammates and I suddenly felt very alone and
an open target from the massive crowd behind me. I quickly piped down and
snapped a few pictures. We all watched the replay the following day and I will
never forget what the television analyst said: “And the Philippines have gone
in first and that is totally bizarre!”
At the half, I went up to the media
skybox where I linked up with the Inquirer’s Cedelf Tupas. I was grateful for
the warmth inside and its relative safety. I opened my laptop and like him, I
began to tweet.
As Phil Younghusband put the finishing
touches of a 94-minute (including added time) masterpiece, Cedelf, British
writer Mike Church, and myself let out a loud whoop. The Vietnamese writers
present closed their laptops and left.
And bedlam broke out on the pitch and
the Philippine locker room. As everyone went mad inside, Phil was in the adjacent
bathroom retching his guts out. It was a gutty performance by him and the
entire team. Vietnam had come so dangerously close on several occasions but
Etheridge was magnificent in turning them back.
In the post-match press conference,
the room was packed with over 50 journalists. McMenemy answered every question
and was gracious in defeat despite Vietnam head coach Henrique Callisto’s
refusal to shake his hand after the match. As McMenemy exited the media room,
we saw Callisto. I placed myself in between the two coaches in case a scuffle
broke out. The vanquished coach threw a few choice words. Simon didn’t reply
and instead shook his head. Cedelf and I hustled him out to the safety of the
team bus.
As the team bus exited My Dinh, the
lights were put out just in case some sour local fans decided to pelt the bus.
The streets were still lined with people. More than what we saw going in. But
their pre-game cheer was replaced by stunned silence. Suddenly Greatwich began
to bang the palms of his hands on the window and began screaming,
“Yeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!! We woooooonnn!!!”
It was surreal. Some others were
trying to calm Greatwich down and on the other side Phil had continued to empty
whatever was left of his stomach into a bag.
When we entered the Sheraton, the
hotel staff applauded and were all smiles. The Singapore players were there too
to greet us. And their head coach Raddy Avramovic who had coldly dismissed all
questions about the Philippines in the pre-tourney presscon was now hanging out
with everyone in the lobby
(because there was free wifi there) and regaling us with football tales and
advice.
You all know the rest – we drew with
Myanmar and went onto the semifinals in Indonesia for the first time. When the
team returned to Manila between the two legs, Azkals hysteria was in full
swing.
Early in 2011, I told anyone willing
to listen that this was not some fad since fads last about three months before
it’s done. It’s been a year and the beautiful game or the national squad shows
no signs of stopping whatever the result.
One year later, I am still covering
the team now along with a host of others. The Ateneo Football League that I had
long planned has seen a successful first season. And I’m now covering the UFL
for AKTV. And come December, I am so stoked for covering and watching the
Galaxy play the Azkals.
The press conference here at home (with me hosting it) before the team's departure for Vietnam. This was held at the PFF office. Note the El Habbib brothers and Coach Aris Caslib in the background. Great and memorable days.
This was during our first lunch at Nam Dinh where both the Philippines and Myanmar traveled to play. The meals weren't as great as what we had at the Sheraton but the street coffee was great. With Coach Simon, Edzel Bracamonte, Joseph Malinay, and Edwin Cabalida.
Below is the post-match presscon. I have to look for the video of the confrontation with Callisto at the hallway. It was hard to shoot as I had to come between the two men so nothing would break out. I have some 20 DVDs of video footage from those days in Vietnam and Indonesia including Simon McMenemy's pre and post-match thoughts. We spent some 30 minutes talking before and after every match. There are also extensive locker room scenes especially the halftime against Vietnam. The locker room was intense and I will never forget that. Everyone was quiet for a few minutes. No one spoke. When Simon finally did, he said: "We are on the verge of making history, gentlemen." And everyone began to scream. Dan Palami was going from player to player patting them on the shoulder egging them on. Diding Cabalida sat nearby thinking and thinking some more. "We have a chance!" he said. That was so incredible and I was thinking, "Jeezus, it's so cold that I can't feel myself anymore out there." And I was worried about the battery life of the camcorder. All this video has yet to be converted.
This was during our first lunch at Nam Dinh where both the Philippines and Myanmar traveled to play. The meals weren't as great as what we had at the Sheraton but the street coffee was great. With Coach Simon, Edzel Bracamonte, Joseph Malinay, and Edwin Cabalida.
Below is the post-match presscon. I have to look for the video of the confrontation with Callisto at the hallway. It was hard to shoot as I had to come between the two men so nothing would break out. I have some 20 DVDs of video footage from those days in Vietnam and Indonesia including Simon McMenemy's pre and post-match thoughts. We spent some 30 minutes talking before and after every match. There are also extensive locker room scenes especially the halftime against Vietnam. The locker room was intense and I will never forget that. Everyone was quiet for a few minutes. No one spoke. When Simon finally did, he said: "We are on the verge of making history, gentlemen." And everyone began to scream. Dan Palami was going from player to player patting them on the shoulder egging them on. Diding Cabalida sat nearby thinking and thinking some more. "We have a chance!" he said. That was so incredible and I was thinking, "Jeezus, it's so cold that I can't feel myself anymore out there." And I was worried about the battery life of the camcorder. All this video has yet to be converted.
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