Getting to see a game of football in the Philippines turned out to be a lot more trouble than I’d imagined. The first time we went to Manila I checked for updates at the hotel before setting off to the match and discovered that not only had the venue been changed, but the match would be played behind closed doors. Even so, I still fancied my chances of somehow getting in, or at least I did until our taxi driver took us to the Rizal Memorial Park rather than the Rizal Memorial Stadium and the traffic was just too bad for us to get to the right location in time.
On the plus side we saw some weird blackface performance in the park where only the armpits gave them away.
I’m a trier though and so three months later we made a return visit to Manila. This time the ground was in the north of the city in the middle of nowhere and with limited hotel options. Very limited, with the view from our window giving some idea of the neighbourhood. There weren’t any bars nearby either and Jen and I spent the latter part of that evening drinking beer on the steps of the hotel whilst security men with shotguns patrolled the nearby petrol station forecourt.
Still, we were there for the football and the stadium was within walking distance. If it had been a little further I suppose we could always have got one of the retro looking shared taxis that cruised around.
We arrived a good half hour before kick off only to find that the pitch wasn’t marked and that the game had been moved to a different city. Probably behind closed doors and possibly the day before for good measure. Terrific.
I thought I’d missed my opportunity but two months further on a cup competition, the Copa Paulinho something or other threw up a game at the same Rizal Memorial Stadium that we’d tried to reach five months earlier. This time I booked a hotel overlooking the ground, so as long as the four-hour flights weren’t unduly delayed we would only have to rely upon a taxi driver finding the hotel, rather than the football ground. That’s always an easier proposition.
It turned out that the stadium isn’t actually that far from its namesake park. In fact we walked it along the seafront the next morning in under an hour.
If we’d done that the first time rather than rely on a taxi driver who didn’t know the football ground existed we could have saved ourselves two hours in traffic and two return trips.
This time though, it all worked out. The stadium, which was built in 1934, reminded me of one that my mate Paul and I had wandered around whilst in Poland for Euro 2012. That Polish place had been built in anticipation of an Olympics that used other venues instead and by now was magnificently run down. As was the Rizal Memorial Stadium.
Nobody wanted any money for admission and so I took my place in the main stand. The only concession to modern life was the artificial pitch with those little black bits of rubber flicking up from the surface.
Davao Aguilas were in white with red and blue trim with Ceres in black. Davao took the lead a quarter of an hour in when a corner was glanced in at the near post. Despite the goal coming so early on it was enough for the Ceres coach to immediately haul off his big lump of a centre-half. Perhaps he’d taken a knock. I hope so, for his sake.
Davao had about twenty fans at one end of the main stand, including three drummers. None of them looked particularly old so it might have been a school trip of sorts. They were rattling out a chant of “Davo, Davo, Davo” to the tune of No Limits. The early goal got them fired up, not that they needed it when it’s a choice between watching your team or an afternoon of algebra. Maybe they’d think differently if they had someone like Tony Pulis slowly squeezing any possible joy from watching their team. Quadratic equations might very well be preferable then.
Ceres just seemed to have a handful of fans but they made a disproportionate amount of noise by taking advantage of the good acoustics created by the main stand roof. Mind you, the noise that they made was pointless, just some oh, oh, ohing to the tune of Go West. Noise for the sake of it really. I was temporarily distracted by the old industrial light fittings above us that would be worth a decent sum to a salvage yard. Strange how your mind wanders.
The teams went in at the break with just the one goal separating them, but it didn’t take Davao Aguilas long afterwards to double their lead with a penalty. Within two minutes though Ceres had pulled one back when a corner was missed by everyone except the fella who tapped it home from close range.
The Ceres goal was the cue for some argy bargy and a Ceres player escaped a sending off despite having put an opposition player in a headlock. Davao weren’t so fortunate though and one of their players did walk shortly afterwards, for a second yellow. He seemed somewhat frustrated at the apparent inconsistency.
After everyone had settled down there was a strange lack of urgency from the Ceres players. They were slowly trotting up for corners and staying down far too long after any contact. I began to wonder if the game was two legs, or if a single goal defeat somehow put them through. More likely, they thinking about the possible end of season approaching and the opportunity to head off on their holidays. Fair enough.
Tags: blackface, industrial light fittings, Manila, Philippines football, Quadratic equations, Rizal Memorial, Tony Pulis
Trail of the Lion King 
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