Days before the Olympics bids farewell to the world, our boob tube made its grand exit—with a bang! Yes, my dear folks, it exploded right before our eyes! [But I don’t mean that it went into pieces while our faces were smudged with black dusts.] Thanks to its magnificent shut down I would never have an access to my dear Athena and Phevos (they were the Olympic mascots in the 28^th Olympiad). Undaunted by its untimely death, I maximized our internet connection to quench my thirst with those not accessible Olympic updates (after the boob tube turned into just a black box). Personally, for the two consecutive Olympics, I was disappointed with the Philippines not making it to the over-all medal board. After reviewing the official medal tally (via www.athens2004.com), I was not surprised that my poor country’s beautiful name wasn’t there. But I was in great shock when this state (I really don’t know if it’s a country at all) entered that very exclusive medal list. I’m referring to a state or a country or just a piece of land named Eritrea. In my more than a decade amateurish experience with beauty pageants, I have never heard of this place. “Uhm, hello? From what planet?” If my memory speaks to me right, this is the country with only one delegate. And that lone athlete snatched a silver medal (I still have to check whether it’s silver or bronze). Well s/he had it: L-U-C-K! Or maybe s/he is just an athlete of world-class caliber. What happened to our home-grown and half-bred athletes? I bet our sports programs in this archipelago are far better with that of in Eritrea. On the day after Greece welcomed the world in the 28^th Olympiad, three [or four?] (sorry for the inaccuracy) Pinoy swimmers saw action in the Aqueduct center for their respective events. As expected, they have won—against themselves. They have just beaten their own personal best, which didn’t even allow them to continue to the next round. Our attention focused on the boxing arena. Everyone was expecting that this event would surely clench at least a bronze to halt the medal drought of the country. Boxing was believed to be the event, which would bring us that elusive golden laurel. For the almost 20 medals (and no golds yet) we have snatched since we’ve joined the Olympic Games, most of our medals were delivered by great Pinoy boxers (who later turned out to be among the country’s poorest citizens). After Harry Tañamor—the overrated boxer who said to be the golden-boy—succumbed to his foe (thanks to a new fighting style he adopted) our dream of getting even a bronze medal collapsed. The day for the athletics events arrived. With Asia’s fastest woman—Lydia De Vega not in the pack, nobody anticipated for a medal. True enough, the last Pinoy athlete (standing or running with an aching ankle) playing for the marathon (the very last event in the Olympics prior to the closing) started at the rear and ended there. In the penultimate day, two of the three Pinoy-kickers saw action in the Taekwondo. They were Donald Geisler 3^rd and Marie Antoinette Rivero (the other Filipino Taekwondo casualty was Tshomlee Go). After more than two weeks of supreme sports action in Athens, Greece, we didn’t see a pure Pinoy (because <name> Coughlin, a Fil-Am representing USA for a swimming event won a gold medal) standing on the winners’ podium wearing a medal on his neck and a laurel on his head. It just occurred to me that I (and the Filipinos of the past generations) haven’t heard the Philippine national anthem being played and being sung both by Juan De la Cruz and the rest of the foreign crowd.     

I was really in the blame-mode to writing a journal entry, which questions the Philippine sports program. My blood was boiling. I was ashamed of what happened not until I read various articles—which discuss the valor of the Filipino athletes in Greece—that my blame-mode shifted gears. In the lead paragraph of an Inq7.net editorial column, it says, “Their bodies were beaten but their heads were unbowed and their spirit unbroken.” They may not have given the country golden bacon; they certainly have broken their legs—literally—to bring honor to a country divided by almost any issue. I was in tears—actually, even the sky was with me in crying—when I was reading the articles. Through the words of the computer-savvy journalists of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, I was able to replay in my mind what took place during Geisler and Rivero’s respective fights. I didn’t personally see the event. But the words were enough for me to watch in my mind how these great Pinoy athletes waved the Philippine flag without the need to win their fights. We may be welcoming 16 athletes with no medals on their neck but we are lucky enough to welcoming 16 unbroken souls in them. True enough, we are medal-less Philippines for two consecutive Olympic Games. But these athletes represented our country are overwhelming with courage to fight any world-class opponent. having no medal doesn’t necessary equate to failure. They may have not brought home a medal. But they sure did bring home glory to the country by just showing the world how much valor the Filipinos have.

The Olympic flame may be extinguished but the spirit of the Olympic Games in each Filipino athlete (and to some Pinoys out there, who just like me, love this greatest show on earth) will eternally be ablazed.