Diaspora: Advantage, Eala

The tennis world is still getting used to having consistently loud capacity crowds thronging venues for Mubadala DC Open champion Alex Eala. They’ve never experienced a player who brings the home court with her. The socio-economic impact is not only palpable, it is substantial. Schedules are changed, tickets sell out like concert, menu items like adobo added, and yet, somehow, everybody wins.

The Filipino diaspora started after the first two world wars, when American soldiers would come home to wives who had been working in factories, running businesses and being bosses. They didn’t want to go back to being homemakers, nurses or secretaries. The solution lay thousands of miles away. Filipinos saw an opportunity, first in America, which opened their eyes to the rest of the world. Then came Martial Law and the political upheaval of the mid-1980’s, which spurred even bigger waves of migration. It has since ebbed and flowed, but never waned. To date there are anywhere from 10 million to 30 million legal and illegal Filipinos overseas.

One other thing changed. Succeeding generations of Filipinos had access to more money than before. They were getting compensated for work that could not earn them anywhere near that much back home, in dollars, Euro and other currencies more powerful than the Philippine peso. But there was one thing missing. What Filipino thing was there to spend their money on? In 2005, Manny Pacquiao came along when the economy was low and desperation high. He gave the country a hero, every so often lifting spirits and lowering crime in the country and abroad.

This is the distinct advantage of tennis. You can play every day. And as we have seen, pros play weekly in the WTA. Filipinos, who have been weaned from their impatience by football’s Azkals and rugby’s Volcanoes, now have a rallying point. It is a weekly event, like Sundays at Lola’s. They can take the day off, make a week of it, even. For many, the only challenge is getting permission to take off from work.

Significantly, Filipinos are very visible when they watch sporting events. We’re loud, raised on basketball and boxing. We’ve even learned to cheer during billiards matches (sharking). We buy the merchandise, the food, and bring flags. Now, every Alex Eala match is a party, like the Brazilians invaded tennis. Nobody is used to it. The staid, stiff tradition of obedient silence during serves and points is being challenged and strained, everywhere.

There is no written rule against cheering. It’s tradition that was imposed on other classes by the Europeans, like wearing all white, which Andre Agassi and his cohorts forced to change with their electric, luminous colors. Maybe it’s time to change that tradition, too. In fact, we already see it in how raucously they introduce the young Filipina every time, as if it were the walk-on to a boxing world title fight. In a way, we can say that they started it.

At the end of the day, as Eala continues to succeed, we will wear down the stiff upper-lipped traditionalists who try to quiet us down. We are not just fans, we are an economic force that tennis has never seen, and wants to harness. Let the other players complain. Let the officials reprimand. They will tire, and we will win that point, too. We have the numbers to force change. And we’re not going anywhere, because we’re already everywhere. You can’t shush Pinoy pride.