The list, apparently official, contains only 11 names. Excluding the understandably larger retinue of officials (all countries have to contribute to the officiating), that is how big the athletic delegation of the Philippines is to the London Olympics later this month.
It is not necessary to enumerate the names. Except for those religiously following their respective sporting disciplines, our contingent is made up of athletes largely unknown to the general Filipino public.
Despite their relative anonymity and participation in sporting disciplines that are not our traditional staples of strength (boxing, the source of all our Olympic medals, only has one competitor), it is nevertheless still our national duty to root for them.
If rooting for our athletes is what it takes to be Filipino at this time, then proud to be Filipino is what we have to be, no matter how difficult it is to whip up hope solely on the basis of pride and nationalism.
Even more difficult it is for the athlete has not been given any honest-to-goodness support from government, the kind that wins medals in superior competitions such as the Olympics. All that has been done of any significance is the promise of financial rewards for medals won.
That is like putting the cart before the horse. That is simply not the way to do it. How can anyone reap financial rewards if he cannot win a medal. And how can anyone win a medal if he lacks the superior training and the superior sustenance to compete world class.
The clearest indication of how sports is regarded by the national government was in the formal gathering and introduction of our delegation to London. Our dear president did not show up and instead sent Energy Secretary Jose Almendras to read his message.
The Kenyans, ever strong in running, only sends runners and do not experiment with other sports. The North Koreans, when their booters lost in the World Cup, punished them. This is not to say we must adopt these measures. But we can learn from this kind of seriousness.