GILAS Pilipinas tried their hardest. We, the fans, did not.
This will probably raise a few eyebrows, but hear me out on this one: We let our team and country down.
Up to this day, social media platforms are still peppered with Filipinos caught in a blame game, trying to make sense of what transpired within the 94 feet of Mall of Asia Arena hardwood.
But let me ask you these:
On the second day of play, the Arena was hardly filled. Where were you?
For those who were present, why were you not loud enough?
The last time I checked, we were the Basketball World Cup’s Most Valuable Fans.
What the hell happened?
What I saw was a sorry excuse for homecourt advantage — a crowd that’s mostly seated. A country that bowed to the slightest of runs.
Three years ago, the Arena was packed rocked and filled to the brim. We have always boasted of having the craziest, most passionate basketball fans in the world. Heck, we even turned that frenzy into our battle cry.
“Puso,” we called it.
But where was the passion when Troy Rosario single-handedly erased the Les Bleus’ lead in the final two minutes of the game?
Where was the grit when Tall Blacks’ Tai Webster sank the free throws at the 6-minute mark of the 4th period?
Where was the frenzy during the timeouts? The lulls during free throws?
Where was the MVF in the Fiba Olympic Qualifying Tournament (OQT)?
It goes without saying that being awarded the rights to host one of three qualifying tournaments leading up to the Olympic games this August is a tremendous honor in itself. Never mind that it came only as a consolation after narrowly losing the chance to host the 2019 Basketball World Cup.
During the bid, our presentation revolved around intangibles.
We pulled “best basketball fans in the world” card, as if it would be enough to trump China’s seemingly unlimited budget for mounting mega venues. We touted our atlas-esque knowledge for all things basketball, as if it could top their extravagance poured in all of the times they hosted sporting events.
Yes, the Chinese outnumbered us nearly 15 to one. But remember that adage, “Quality over quantity?”
It was not quality when we couldn’t rally 12 cagers with the letters P-I-L-I-P-I-N-A-S emblazoned on their chests as they took on the World’s No. 5. It was not puso when we let every lull’s silence swallow the Arena whenever the Tall Blacks snatched the lead.
Maybe I picked up an unfair set of standards after attending a crazy NBA Finals game in Ohio. I felt like both my chest and ears were going to pop open with the insane noise that rocked the Quicken Loans Arena.
They cheered and cried for the home team to play defense. Alas, a home court, “defended.”
Maybe I just can’t fathom the idea that a cellar-dwelling Australian basketball club for a non-bearing match had much more of an electric atmosphere than in the OQT.
Oh, and to think Australians are not even known to be basketball people. We are!
If this is some sort of a preview, then maybe we really are better off not hosting that Basketball World Cup.
I’ll accept your criticisms for me being honest, but I’ll readily take some blame, too.
I’m guilty, you are guilty, we all are.
We could have done better.
Basketball was never supposed to be our sport anyway. Geneticists would agree. We are too short a people to be playing a big guy’s game. But since we are hard-headed and head-over-heels in love over this sport, we might as well give it our all as fans in the stands.
Here’s to hoping that we do a better job next time, that we get our butts into the arenas and off the seats. Cheer. Yell. Jeer.
Then maybe, just maybe, we can live up to calling ourselves the best basketball fans in the world.
