A long time ago, probably when I was 12 years old, I came across a mug with a very poignant inscription which is very much related to sports as it is in life. "Champions are made when no one is looking," it said. While the message clearly refers to the intangible aspects which supplement and complement natural (or unnatural) athletic talent, my experiences in both high school and collegiate swimming made me realize that the quote may refer to something else.
I am quite certain that one of the common denominators of all the sporting events known to man is the athletes' desire to be watched by people who are "outsiders" to their sports. I say "outsiders" because these supporters are the ones who simply relish in witnessing the greatness achieved by an athlete regardless if they understood the fundamentals of the said sport. To them, such feats are beyond their comprehension which, in turn, amplifies the greatness of these achievements exponentially. I tell you, to be congratulated after winning a gold medal by someone who has never watched a swimming competition in his life, let alone understand the complexities of competitive swimming was more gratifying to me than the well-wishes of my teammates and coaches.
Last September, the Ateneo High School Swim Team won its seven straight UAAP Juniors Swimming Title. To my knowledge, this is the longest winning streak in the history of UAAP Swimming as well as the longest active winning history in the entire UAAP. It was truly a joyous moment for the Junior Tankers. However, I am thankful that none of them realized that they were celebrating to the same crowd my teammates and I celebrated to when we won the first of those championships back in 2005. This audience consisted of parents, some alumni, a few close friends and their college teammates. Nothing more.
Same thing happened when the Lady Tankers won their first ever UAAP Swimming Championship back in 2008. Everybody was ecstatic. But nobody, other than the usual group was there to witness it.
Even after four years of swimming in the UAAP in high school, I still expected to see the type of crowds present during Ateneo-La Salle basketball games at the Smart-Araneta Coliseum complete with cheerleaders and drums to boot when I swam in college. It was fool's hope, to say the least. Granted, having 18,000 people watch a swimming competition is unrealistic and downright impossible especially in a basketball-crazy nation such as the Philippines. But is it too much to ask to expect anywhere from 50-100 in the swimming pool stands? I would like to think it is not.
It was truly an honor and a wonderful privilege to have swum for my school for as long as I did. Yet, I can only imagine the heights we could have achieved and the prestige we could have won if we really saw the people we were representing other than the usual array of faces we have grown accustomed to.
I will let you in on a little secret. When I mounted the starting blocks during the final heats, I usually gaze upon the crowd for a moment and scan for unfamiliar faces sporting the blue and white. In my seven year UAAP career, I never saw a new face among the Ateneo supporters other than the parents and siblings of our rookies. In moments like those, I have to quickly remind myself that I am still representing my school and every person affiliated with it. Regardless if they are screaming at the Trace College Swimming Pool stands or at the Araneta Coliseum boxes, my swim will still be for them. Is it not ironic that I have to constantly remind myself of this?
In my experience, champions are indeed made when no one is looking. Literally. It is one of the saddest realities I had to face during my swimming years.
Take your mark!
(Part 2 of Burst My Babble will be up soon!)
I am quite certain that one of the common denominators of all the sporting events known to man is the athletes' desire to be watched by people who are "outsiders" to their sports. I say "outsiders" because these supporters are the ones who simply relish in witnessing the greatness achieved by an athlete regardless if they understood the fundamentals of the said sport. To them, such feats are beyond their comprehension which, in turn, amplifies the greatness of these achievements exponentially. I tell you, to be congratulated after winning a gold medal by someone who has never watched a swimming competition in his life, let alone understand the complexities of competitive swimming was more gratifying to me than the well-wishes of my teammates and coaches.
Last September, the Ateneo High School Swim Team won its seven straight UAAP Juniors Swimming Title. To my knowledge, this is the longest winning streak in the history of UAAP Swimming as well as the longest active winning history in the entire UAAP. It was truly a joyous moment for the Junior Tankers. However, I am thankful that none of them realized that they were celebrating to the same crowd my teammates and I celebrated to when we won the first of those championships back in 2005. This audience consisted of parents, some alumni, a few close friends and their college teammates. Nothing more.
Same thing happened when the Lady Tankers won their first ever UAAP Swimming Championship back in 2008. Everybody was ecstatic. But nobody, other than the usual group was there to witness it.
Even after four years of swimming in the UAAP in high school, I still expected to see the type of crowds present during Ateneo-La Salle basketball games at the Smart-Araneta Coliseum complete with cheerleaders and drums to boot when I swam in college. It was fool's hope, to say the least. Granted, having 18,000 people watch a swimming competition is unrealistic and downright impossible especially in a basketball-crazy nation such as the Philippines. But is it too much to ask to expect anywhere from 50-100 in the swimming pool stands? I would like to think it is not.
It was truly an honor and a wonderful privilege to have swum for my school for as long as I did. Yet, I can only imagine the heights we could have achieved and the prestige we could have won if we really saw the people we were representing other than the usual array of faces we have grown accustomed to.
I will let you in on a little secret. When I mounted the starting blocks during the final heats, I usually gaze upon the crowd for a moment and scan for unfamiliar faces sporting the blue and white. In my seven year UAAP career, I never saw a new face among the Ateneo supporters other than the parents and siblings of our rookies. In moments like those, I have to quickly remind myself that I am still representing my school and every person affiliated with it. Regardless if they are screaming at the Trace College Swimming Pool stands or at the Araneta Coliseum boxes, my swim will still be for them. Is it not ironic that I have to constantly remind myself of this?
In my experience, champions are indeed made when no one is looking. Literally. It is one of the saddest realities I had to face during my swimming years.
Take your mark!
(Part 2 of Burst My Babble will be up soon!)
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