Source :
Yahoo.com.ph
By Sid Ventura
For Yahoo! Southeast Asia
I can’t tell you how exhilarating it was to be at Panaad Stadium for the Philippines-Mongolia AFC Challenge Cup match. I can’t tell you because I don’t know.
I was unable to fly to Bacolod, so I had planned to catch the game at home. But Sky Cable chose this day, of all days, to have a massive service interruption, forcing me to find an establishment that was showing the match.
It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because there are few things in this world that are more fun to do than watch the Azkals with a bunch of strangers, collectively cheer and scream, slap high fives, slowly get intoxicated, and listen to one of them adoringly compare Chieffy Caligdong to Pele.
The bar/resto I chose was actually my third choice. The first one said their cable connection wasn’t functioning properly. The second one was a case of “wrong program.” I saw a bunch of guys huddled together, all intently staring at a TV set, so I quickly parked and ran over to them, expecting to find the match already being shown. Instead, the TV was showing video karera. Oops.
When I finally got lucky on my third attempt, it was worth the hunt. A group of guys were sitting around the restaurant’s bar waiting for the match to begin. They weren’t the sophisticated lot you’d expect to find in any trendy bar in Eastwood or Makati, but they were down-to-earth, opinionated, loud but not to the point of being rowdy, and for some of them, not too steeped in football knowledge (which made the night even more fun).
A few minutes into the telecast, I immediately noticed something about the TV coverage which I hope ABS-CBN Sports can address: the camera shot was waaaay too tight. Ideally you want to see something close to half of the field so that you can always see where the ball is.
In this case, since the camera was zoomed in a little too close, the cameraman had a tough time following the ball around. Also, the slow-mo replays were a little too long. A couple times, when it went back to live action, a corner kick had already been done and the TV audience missed it. (On the plus side, kudos to my good friend Bob Guerrero for doing excellent play-by-play commentary.)
Once in a while, the guy to my left, a middle-aged character who was the least- knowledgeable about football rules, would ask me questions, all of which I gamely tried to answer. Ano ang yellow card? Bakit siya yellow? O, naglabas na ng yellow card ang ref, bakit ngayon red?
From across the bar, another guy replied, “Kapag red card yata, may free kick.” Good thing the guy next to him explained to everyone what a yellow and red card meant, and we all moved on. By this time, my good buddy Richard had arrived to join the festivities.
When Mongolia nearly scored on a brilliant cross in the 41st minute, we all nearly toppled over backwards (our bar chairs had no back rests). Afterwards we all had sheepish grins and said, “Muntik na iyon!” in around eight different accents.
Some of us were getting slightly frustrated at the Azkals’ inability to finally score despite numerous chances, which led to faster consumption of beer, much to the delight of the bartender. “Ang dami kasi ng Mongolia!” was one keen observation shared. But already a man down, it was clear Mongolia was packing it in and doing its best to simply prevent the Azkals from scoring.
Then came the night’s defining moment: Caligdong’s nasty three-touch goal. I tell you, as soon as Chieffy got the ball on the left flank, we were already screaming. It’s as if we all knew something special was about to happen. When he YouTube’d (“posterized” is out, “YouTube’d” is in) that Mongolian defender by lobbing the ball over to set up that point blank strike, the bar erupted, drowning out the nearby lounge singer who was belting out his own rendition of “The Way You Look Tonight.”
I think I screamed the loudest. The others were going, “P—ina! Nakita niyo iyon?” Even the bartender stopped what he was doing. Meanwhile, several other patrons got up from their tables to see what the commotion was about. A few of them quickly ran to their tables, grabbed their beers, and joined the merriment at the bar. Chieffy Caligdong had just brought total strangers together.
When the replay was shown, one of us remarked, “Parang si Pele ang ginawa niya!” and I couldn’t agree more. Caligdong’s goal was one for the ages, and for him to do it in front of his fellow Ilonggos made it all the more special.
It was named the Goal of the Match afterwards, but what happened next should be named the Goal Celebration of the Year. The veteran from Barotac Nuevo ran to the side of the field, turned his back to the crowd, and pointed with both thumbs to his name on the back of his jersey. It was as if he was saying, “I’m not a Fil-foreigner. I’m an Ilonggo. I’m Caligdong!”
Caligdong had not only scored one for the Azkals, he had scored one for the homegrown players on the team who rarely receive the attention their more celebrated Fil-foreign teammates get. What’s more, he had scored one for his beloved Ilonggos, who treat football like a religion. Major, major sports moment right there.
The guy next to me asked who scored the goal, and Richard replied “Si Caligdong.” The guy said, “Hmm. Hindi ko kilala.” To which another guy said, “Hindi kasi gwapo, eh,” prompting laughter from the rest.
It’s a pity Caligdong’s other great football moment resonates only with the most diehard football fans. He scored two goals in the last four minutes of a 2004 Tiger Cup match against Timor Leste to give the Philippines a dramatic 2-1 win. If the Azkals were as popular back then as they are today, I’m sure everyone would know Chieffy by now. But after coming up with a Sportscenter-worthy moment and having a catchy nickname to boot, he’s suddenly become a trending topic.
The halftime break shortly after Chieffy’s goal gave all of us a chance to settle down. Richard noted that the Azkals needed to score one to two more goals as “pabaon” heading into the second leg on March 15. I agreed. The Azkals couldn’t go into Mongolia with just a one-goal advantage. That would be too dangerous. But with the Mongolians reduced to 10 men, we figured the scoring parade would begin soon enough.
The Azkals teased us all throughout the second half. When the ball found the crossbar on an Ian Araneta header, “Sayang!” was what we all shouted almost in unison. The Mongolian keeper also came up with several brilliant saves to keep the score at 1-nil. Towards the end of the match, we were all getting antsy. We wanted to see more goals to 1) make it more difficult for Mongolia in the second leg; and 2) give us another reason to do some male bonding.
Just when all seemed lost, Phil Younghusband finally came through in stoppage time with a nifty strike to make it 2-nil. Icing on the cake. That sealed everything, and gave a perfect end to a great evening of football: one goal from an Ilonggo, one goal from a Younghusband.
The guy next to me finally got up, and, with a smile of satisfaction, started saying his goodbyes. “Mauna na ako, mga pare. Nag-enjoy kahit wala akong alam sa football! Sa uulitin!”
Anytime, dude. Anytime.