Why we love the Azkals

The Philippines players Alexander Borromeo (#11), James Younghusband (#7), Ian Araneta (#23), goalkeeper Neil Etheridge (#1), Robert Gier (#2), Anton Del Rosario (#4), Roel Gener (#6), Philip Younghusband (#10), Christoper Greatwich (#18), Ray Jonsson (#27), Jason De Jong (#17). Photo credit: ADEK BERRY/AFP/Getty Images

They caught our fancy and sparked a resurgence of football in the Philippines.  In a country that reveres basketball, boxing, and billiards, the “beautiful game” suddenly appeared in the hearts and minds of Filipinos.  How did the Azkals pull this off?  Here are 6 reasons why Filipinos, if not football fans all over the world, love the Azkals.

1.  They were a storybook Cinderella team.

Before their shocking victory over Vietnam, few people have even heard of the Azkals.  We probably didn’t even know we had entered in the ASEAN Football Championship, let alone that we had fought three-time champion Singapore to a 1-1 draw courtesy of a last-minute goal by Chris Greatwich.  And then suddenly, like the clueless Prince after glancing at the beautiful Cinderalla, we asked ourselves: Who are they and what haven’t we heard about them?

2.  They had a distinctively Filipino name

They weren’t called “Eagles” or “Booters” or whatever other Western moniker.  They had a name that was endearingly familiar to the true-blooded Filipino.  My hats off to whoever coined the name “Azkals”.    I understand that the original team name was supposed to be Calle Azul (or Blue Street), which then evolved to Azul Calle and then Az Cal.  Someone then suggested to refer it as Azkal as in “asong kalye” or street dog. The asong kalye is neglected, ignored, and left to fend for itself, yet it is a tough, resilient, ferocious survivor.   “Azkal” was a name that aptly captured the state of the Philippines football team.

3.  They had a villain

Every hero needs a villain.  They say that a villain defines the hero.  The more hateful the villain the better.  And, ironically, this villain was not an opposing team but our very own Philippine Football Federation president Jose Mari Martinez, removed from office on accusations of “falsification of public documents, the unauthorized disbursement of funds, and the failure to return the missing funds before a set deadline.”  Nothing probably caused so much ire and hatred than when Martinez readily surrendered the home-field advantage without even a plea.  Why he even disregarded a neutral playing ground is beyond me.  Whenever I think of Mari Martinez I have the image of a conniving Dick Dastardly character, twirling his mustache, and conjuring up schemes to derail the progress of the Philippine football team.  If ever there is a fitting postscript to this drama, it would be a thorough government investigation of Mari Martinez.

4.  They were the underdogs.

So here were the Azkals, lacking in support, their home-field advantage squandered, entering a stadium filled with 80,000 football-rabid Indonesians, facing a team that had scored 13 goals in the group elimination stage.  Deep in our hearts we knew that it would be a tough battle with the odds against us, but, as always, everybody loves the underdog.

5.  They showed heart and soul.

And they never gave up.  They gave the Indonesians a run for their money.  I’m not sure if I read the body-language correctly, but the coach for the Indonesian team looked worried and tense.  And the Azkals could have pulled it off.  They fought tooth and nail.  .  But they had chances to score.  The Indonesians never took them for granted.  The Azkals were elbowed and jostled and pushed to the ground.  The Indonesians didn’t play restrained  kid-gloved football—they came bearing their teeth.  And the Azkals showed their fangs as well.

6.  They looked good.

The Azkals, despite their names, did not look like ragged street urchins.  A number of them had movie star, Bench-model looks.  And swarms of giggly, screeching fans scampered to have their pictures taken with them, even the Indonesian football fans who, just a few days ago, where screaming obscenities at them.

More on football: football in the Philippines and football in Indonesia

Last year, I visited our grade school and walked around the building that we used to call the “New Building.”  It was meant the house the intermediate levels—the Grade 6 and 7 classes—hence it was also called the “Intermediate Building.”  It’s obviously not “new” now and I don’t know what it’s called now.   But the  field where we used to play football and softball remained adjacent to that building.  The field was home to our football intramural games and it was the scene of our classic Grade 3 football match.  I was a scrawny and clumsy child then so I was not part of the football team that represented our class, but to this day I still remember that match.   We had parades and mascots and our teacher, Mrs. Ramos, even brought a megaphone to bark out orders to our players.  I wonder if there was some side bet involved.

So when I stumbled upon this post on why Filipinos wouldn’t play soccer, I was dismayed, if not angered.  The writer gave all his perceived excuses.  If this is the line of thinking of many Filipinos, then the sport of football will face a tough climb in the Philippines.

Pinoys are generally poor, and football is comparably more expensive than playing basketball. Football,to be played with gusto, would require a sturdy pair of shoes. Basketball on the other hand can be played even with just an old pair of slippers and you can still pick a fight due to the high level of competition in the streets.

But let us say the poor Pinoys got lucky and can now afford to buy those football shoes. The next problem is the playing field. The soccer fields in the Philippines are usually located inside the school campuses. Who would enroll in a school just to have access to the football field?

Now for discussion’s sake, let’s say we were able to create a make-shift football field in the streets with matching goal posts. Where will you get the other 21 players to play with? Or let’s tone that down, how about a football game with just  5 players each team? Still, you need to look for 9 players. That is very difficult in a country where knowledgeable players are from exclusive schools. Again the question comes, are you going to enroll in a school just to learn the basics of this game? Basketball in comparison again, can be played alone or with just a friend. I can’t even remember how many times I was not able to play in a basketball court because there were too many players available and only 10 are needed

Now look at these pictures which I had taken 3 years ago in Jakarta, Indonesia.

Aside from the obvious lack of equipment, these Indonesian kids were playing in an empty housing lot that they had converted to makeshift field.  This was not in some exclusive university.  Their goal posts were merely two pieces of tin cans.   They didn’t have the pre-requisite 11-man teams.

The Azkals are playing against Indonesia on Dec. 16 and 19.  The games were supposed to be a “home-and-away” games, which means at least one game would have been played here in the Philippines.  But both games, for reasons I cannot fathom, will be played in Indonesia.  We are up against a team that has been brought up in a country that reveres football, where football violence is not uncommon.   When it comes to playing football, Indonesian youngsters accept no excuse.

Football fans

The picture above represents the sad state of affairs of football fandom in the Philippines. In the Fort Bonifacio area, only a few restaurants were airing the game of the Philippine Azkals versus Myanmarr. The Azkals only needed a draw to advance to the semifinals.  The people inside the restaurant didn’t even know that the game it was being aired. We had just beaten powerhouse Vietnam, which is comparable to a PBL team beating San Miguel as described by a notable sportswriter, and we were about to enter into the semifinals for the first time and very few people knew about it.