The loneliest sport

Swimming is probably the loneliest sport there is. You can’t talk to anybody, and you don’t really go anywhere. It’s just you and the clock, especially during training. The dreary early morning cold chills you each day, and you jump into bone-chilling cold water, defenseless against the elements. Yet, after a few years, you would have swum the equivalent of the length of the Pacific Ocean.

The only thrill you get is finally making it to a competition, where your brethren in this lonely crusade are bursting with a new energy, the energy of communion with their kind.

Now imagine not even being able to do even that.

Timmy Chua and Jenny Guerrero have been braving the loneliness and strain of training twice a day for months, in preparation for the rare chance to go abroad and wear the flag. They were supposed to leave Thursday for the Pan-Pacific Inernational Swim Meet in Yokohama, Japan. However, Saturday, they were informed that they would not get the $7,000 that would have covered their expenses. The Philippine Sports Commission would not be able to disburse the money in time.

"Nakakalungkot," Guerrero rues. "Dalawang beses na nga lang kami makalabas ng bansa sa isang taon, nauudlot pa."

Apparently, this was not the first time this happened. Luckily for the swimmers, Philippine Amateur Swimming Association secretary-general Ral Rosario has at times found means to send them anyway. Arena swimwear, which sponsors the Philippine swim team, has also chipped in beyond the regular support that a sponsor gives.

"Sayang, dahil ang dami pa naman naming magagaling na makakalaban," says Chua, who was looking forward to competing against the best swimmers from the US, Australia and Asia, including dozens of Olympians. "Di bale na kung walang magandang uniporma, basta makapunta."

According to PASA, they were told the money would be available in a month and a half, or even after the Asian Games. Why this happened has not been explained. But documentation will prove either of two things: the PASA did not submit the list of swimmers or schedule of the event on time, or it takes too long to process requests for funding.

"Minsan, lumangoy kaming may tatak ng Japan yung uniporme namin," reveals Guerrero. "Kasi bigay lang iyon. Nakuha namin yung mga swimsuits namin, tapos na." Luckily, Arena has prevented that from happening again.

Currently, our best swimmers would not even be good enough to qualify for the finals in Japan’s national championships. When asked what they need to get better, our swimmers are unanimous in saying "foreign competition." The younger ones are lucky enough to join age group competitions here. But, when they get older, they have less tournaments to enter. And some of these competitions help them qualify for higher events, as well. If they don’t go, they don’t qualify simple as that.

This raises many questions. What is the procedure for disbursing funds to athletes preparing for competitions? When are the NSA’s supposed to submit their requirements so the PSC can approve them? Why is it that NSA’s cannot comply with agreed-upon rules? When are they supposed to receive the money? Third, what happens to the money when they don’t get it in time? Who is responsible for making sure the athletes get the money they need? If PASA submits its competition schedule ahead of time, and the PSC approves it, then where’s the hitch in releasing the money?

If our athletes do not get the support in time for international competitions, what’s the point of their training? They train six to eight hours a day, miss much of their young lives by committing to serving the country, then don’t even get to do that? In the case of our swimmers, they don’t go anywhere in training. Now it seems they don’t go anywhere to compete, either. So who’s minding the store?

If this is a microcosm of Philippine sports, then we’re really in trouble.