I was in Iloilo for three days to shoot a documentary about football; why and how it thrives there. And true enough, I found a slice of heaven over there. What follows is a three-part diary about my continuing fascination with the beautiful game.
We arrived at NAIA Terminal 2 at 3:20am and the early the Departure Area was filled with people. But the counters that were serving my flight to Iloilo thankfully were hardly long. Maybe it was because we were early I surmised. Nevertheless, I requested as always the emergency exit seat right by the window.
Believe me when you’re standing 5’11” (or taller) you want that extra legroom. Plus I love sitting next to the window because it gives a nice view of my destination when flying in.
I ate a hotdog to combat the nausea that always afflicts me whenever I travel. Some food, soda, or candy always helps me with flights especially long outward-bound flights to the US, Japan, or even Australia. It would be interesting to note that I have acrophobia so staying next to a window is an ironic twist.
I wore long shorts, a cotton shirt, and rubber shoes. For the life of me, I can never travel wearing flip-flops.
I boarded Philippine Airlines flight PR 139 bound for Iloilo. It was a short flight and since I had not slept at all the previous day, I decided to catch some shuteye. Besides it wasn’t worth waking up to eat the crap they served – Fita biscuits in tuna flavor and coffee.
But a balikbayan from Michigan sat next to me and he briefly engaged me in some light chatter. He was born in Iloilo but moved to the United States some 30 years ago. He would return every year for a vacation and he chatted merrily about life in the US and how he looked forward to returning home to catch up with old friends who he was losing to time and illness as the years went by.
He was widowed some five years ago and he had no desire to remarry. He’d rather date he said because he refused to give a single cent to someone who might want him only for the money he had saved after all these years.
About an hour later we were in the Visayas and landing was the worst I ever experienced in all my years of air travel. It seemed that the pilot misjudged his descent and it was like we dive-bombed our landing. The plane hit the tarmac with a certain thud and I thought of the stress it must have placed on the landing gear.
The balikbayan was angry and he threatened to let PAL hear about it. Not a few passengers complained loudly.
I shook my head but after a minute, I marveled at the newly built Iloilo Airport. I compared it to the nearby airport in Bacolod which about two years ago I would have gladly dropped a neutron bomb because of how sucky it was. Of course, they’ve built a new one since.
I bade Mr. Michigan goodbye and we went to the exit area where some officials from the Santa Barbara Football Club were waiting for us.
We warmly exchanged handshakes and greetings with Roamil Sobredilla, the Gen-Sec of SBFC and Greg Sirilan, the Treasurer. Duffie Botavara, the Gen-Sec of the Iloilo Football Association (established 1990) could not pick us up that morning and we were to spend the day at Santa Barbara and nearby La Paz and Jaro.
We chatted about the football documentary we were doing as well as life in Iloilo and the local football scene.
Santa Barbara is about a 10-minute ride from the airport and I felt a wave of excitement about the trip never mind if I had not slept for close to 30 hours now. It was 6:30am.
Their headquarters is in the home of Tito Greg as we called him. He lived next to the Santa Barbara football field. That I turn is just across the park, town hall, museum, and historic Santa Barbara Church that was built in 1760.
There were already bunch of kids on the pitch doing drills. By afternoon, the field would be filled with people playing football.
We had breakfast along with one of SBFC’s Board of Trustees Efren Solivio and that lasted about an hour with all the storytelling.
By 7:30 we crossed the road to go to the field and begin filming the players who were doing drills. It’s nothing different from what I’ve seen in the Ateneo Football Center. The one difference here perhaps is that none of the coaches here get paid a single centavo. This is, as Tito Greg says, a labor of love for them. If they do make money, it’s really a meager amount from organizing tournaments. And when you consider that there are several of them and that this is the province where it’s cheaper – then that’s not much we’re talking about.
For these kids, it’s an opportunity to go to college with a scholarship to boot. It’s a means of staying out of trouble.
The reason why football or sports thrives in the countryside is that there are fewer distractions. If you put all the malls of Manila here then you’d have much fewer kids playing sports. They’d be hanging out in the malls.
But football is a way of life here. People from all walks of life here love the game. While I'm interviewing some players, there's a classroom teach-in where the girls are taught strategy.
Tito Greg’s wife, Merly, has an interesting story to tell. She wasn’t a fan of the game before and hated it when he husband would stay up at night watching games on cable. Even their friends would be shouting at 1 or 2 in the morning and she wouldn’t be able to sleep. One time she stayed up to watch with everyone else and before halftime, she became a fan. Now she’s there to watch not just the matches on TV but the games of SBFC and others. Sometimes when Tito Greg would switch the channel to HBO or some other station, she’d get upset with him if he skipped a football match. I smiled and shook my head. That’s what the beautiful game can do.
For Tito Greg and Kuya Roa, it began one time while talking football over a bottle of beer in the porch of the Sirilan home. After a while, they both decided to put up a football club and there it is. Ma-boteng usapan I say and everyone laughs. They invite me to join their sessions some time.
I make one last crack: if I do, then the next thing we will organize is an international tournament. They laugh again.
Back to the morning practice, there was their Under-17 team, the kids’ team, and the women’s team which included several players from UP Diliman’s squad who were home for a vacation. Beside the field is a basketball court but there isn’t anyone playing. The pitch on the other hand has some 70 kids on it.
We got to speak with several parents of the players as well as some coaches who were former international (FIFA) referees as well as former Armed Forces and National Players.
We talked about how football found root in this most unlikely of places and why it remains intensely popular here. The shared experiences and regaled us with funny anecdotes. We met Francisco “Uncle Oting” Sumergido who played after World War II for Santa Barbara and the National Team and he would join us for the rest of the day.
When practice ended about an hour later (they play from 7-9am), we took a short short ride (45 seconds) to the Municipio area where we paid a visit to the Mayor’s office. It was so hot that that taking the SUV was a relief for us all. In anticipation of the heat, I packed seven shirts, several pants, socks, and underwear for the three-day stay (I’m going back next month for another three-day shoot). We were lugging like two huge bags each.
The Mayor wasn’t in but Vice Mayor Rodulfo Delgado was in. He served us some sodas and snacks inside his office. He offered any bit of help he could and told us to enjoy the town.
We then went to the Museum (Santa Barbara was the first place in the Visayas to openly cede independence from the Spaniards during our Revolutionary War). Then I took plenty of shots of the Church that was simply beautiful.
Tito Greg and Kuya Roa were with me every step of the way as they gave me a history of Santa Barbara. And when you talk about history that resonates well with me because of my fascination for the subject. And anything about our colonial past and out revolutionary war is always of great interest to me.
I recently saw Baler and with that fresh in my mind, I wondered what it was like then with gas-lit lamps, kalesas, and Spanish soldiers all about.
By the time we finished our shoots and tour it was close to noon and we repaired to Tito Greg’s house for lunch.
The have what they call “red water” here in Santa Barbara. Sort of looks like apple juice if you ask me. The origins are from the underground but its color has never been properly explained but word is there was a hint of oil in the area back which could explain the color. It has been tested by the Department of Health which found nothing out of the ordinary and has declared it safe.
We had sinigang, inihaw na baboy, vegetables, bangus, and fresh buko juice. It was a lot that I thought that there was a fiesta. But life in the province is like that, they open their doors and share meals with friends as well.
There were eight of us for lunch and we shared even more stories both from Iloilo and Manila and some of them had read some of what I had written. As soon as I met Tito Greg and Kuya Roa at the airport, they both asked how I was related to Ninez Cacho-Olivares and I said she was my aunt. Turns out that everyone in Iloilo knows here (don’t ask me why) and they have read many of my articles in the past. I must admit it was flattering if not somewhat embarrassing. Even in the Mayor’s office and the Museum they asked the same. Maybe I should run for Congressman here in Iloilo. Bwahaha.
By 145pm, we went to Central Philippine University in Jaro. There was an ongoing game between Angelicum and Calinog FC in the ongoing IFA Cup. The tournament had two categories – the Under 17 and the Open. Angelicum just started their football program and aren’t expected to be good yet. Unfortunately, they were downright bad that I almost went up to the coach to berate him.
When Calinog scored three goals in the first 10 minutes, I predicted the outcome of 15-0. I felt bad for Angelicum because they were totally outclassed. The goalkeeper did not even have the proper basics down of goal keeping. Little did I know, I’d watch another of their games later and have a short talk with him to help him with his net minding.
After a few more minutes, the score was 5-0 and I told Tito Greg that we should go to the Iloilo Sports Complex where Barotac Nuevo was playing La Paz. That was definitely more competitive.
At CPU, we finally met up with Mr. Botavara who was jumping from one meeting to another while overseeing the tournament. Tito Duffie is a City Engineer and he’s always on the go with public work stuff to go with football. He left us in the care of Tito Greg and company. He would pick us up later to go to Barotac Nuevo where we’d be staying over the next couple of days.
We then left the eyesore of a match for the Sports Complex where some of the AFC Challenge Cup matches were held last year. And it was around 230pm when we arrived and the sun was simply scorching. But that was nothing compared to the state of the stadium.
The complex was a pigsty. The pitch was in terrible shape and the offices either stank or were broken down. One room was filled with trash. The local football community has wanted to fix the grounds but money is in short supply. Besides this is the lookout of the Governor’s Office which has totally let the place to rot.
The only thing that seems to be in working order is the track oval where a bunch of people are training – in the heat.
I sat in the officials’ table. Even sitting there brought no relief from the heat. The referees told me the story of the local government’s negligence of the facility yet how football remained strong even if there was not much money to go around. I was fighting off drowsiness and the heat totally did not help. The funny thing was the referees were praying for rain. Bwahaha.
I had gone for two days without any sleep at all. I told myself that as soon as I get to the hotel, I’d bathe like 10 times before calling it a day.
It was a good match but Barotac was more talented as they beat La Paz 3-0. Despite what seems to be a blowout of a score, it didn’t tell the whole story. La Paz had plenty of scoring chances but couldn’t convert. They always fell prey to Barotac’s quick counter attacks and superb killer crosses.
There was a second game – the Open Category between Barotac and La Paz – that we watched for a few minutes before heading back to CPU.
At CPU, I found out that the first game between Angelicum and Calinog ended at 13-0. They abandoned the game with plenty of time left. Some of the officials marveled at how I nearly called it right. I replied by saying that I wanted Angelicum to play better because loses like that can be demoralizing especially for first-timers. They should send that coach to jail to do hard time for 10 years for stupidity.
The second match was much more competitive. This time the Open team (17 and up) of CPU was up against their Calindog FC counterparts. It was a fantastic game that CPU won only in the final 10 minutes when they scored two goals to remain unbeaten at 2-0.
They were to play Barotac in a road match on Saturday.
After the match, we had dinner with CPU’s coach Joseph Gensaya as well as some school officials. Since we were in La Paz, well, we had La Paz batchoy. Bwahahaha.
Tito Duffie picked us up then we went to pick up his wife at SM City Iloilo. Then we made the 45-minute trip to Barotac Nuevo.
If the plane landing in Iloilo was frightening, we were nearly sideswiped by a pair of speeding trucks that was carrying sugar cane. As sleepy as I was, I stayed awake after that.
It was around 930pm when we arrived at Aragrace where we were staying. I charged the two video cameras, our cellphones, and digital cameras. I was too tired to do anything else and I plopped down to bed after making good on my promise to scrub myself all over.
Next: A Slice of Heaven Part 2: La Paz & JaroWhat I packed in my emergency bag: iPod touch, cellphone, digi cam, one humongous vid cam for shooting, and chewing gum.
As we got out of the Iloilo Airport, I plugged in my iPod and got the camera ready to roll. As we drove through the road out and into Santa Barbara, the first song I played was the Verve's "Lucky Man" from their great album Urban Hymns.
