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The Final Score: Azkals aren’t gods. And that’s good.
By MICO HALILI
Our eyes popped wide open upon seeing the crowd. Our ears quivered upon hearing the roar. As soon as images of Indonesiaâs mammoth crowd flashed on television, all clad in wartime red, over 70,000 strong, we asked ourselves, âWhat kind of torturous mess did our boys get into?!" After Indonesiaâs first and only goal, we suddenly wanted that squandered âhome game" back. Going any further in the Suzuki Cup quickly felt like taking one more step up Mt. Everest after overachieving, inhaling ice and soil, for weeks. Our players saw the fireworks, heard the vuvuzelas, felt the ground move when Indonesia tallied the matchâs only goal. It was a nasty welcome to the semis. But weâll take it. Congratulations, our Azkals now have play-off experience. They faced Okto eyeball to eyeball. They jostled âEl Loco" chest to chest. They lost one match but gained perspective. The Azkalsâ performance gave Indonesia reason to still fret and handed us reason to still hope. I know itâs disappointing we didnât win the first of two games. We want to believe the Azkals are omnipotent football gods. Take Neil Etheridge for example. He looks like he descended from Asgard, on earth to play goalkeeper, in a uniform to help the Philippines win. Yet no matter how many marriage proposals he has received in the past two weeks, he is still human. He commits mistakes, albeit just a handful. And like the rest of the Azkals, upon witnessing the horror of an opponentâs goal, he feels pain. Gods, on the other hand, are infallible. They are subject to neither stress nor blunder. But because gods are infallible, they donât know how to fail. And because they donât know how to fail, they totally miss the concept of bouncing back. They are gods, after all. Azkals are not. Indonesia didnât embarrass our team. Far from it. Etheridge recovered from the initial fall and continued his brilliance against an offensive juggernaut. Okto Maniani attacked like heâs Cyrus Baguio on an isolation play. Christian Gonzales stalked like a madman on a mission. Yet Etheridge persisted even when an entire stadium wanted him to fold. Iâm happy to report the Azkals arenât divine. Hence, they can turn Thursdayâs debacle into Sundayâs resurgence. The invincible have no idea what this means. Itâs what spirited humans do. On Sunday, nothing will change. The Azkals will remain unwelcome guests. Indonesia will remain heavy favorites. The Younghusbands will exhale through their ears. Aly Borromeo will feel the chill of every breath. Anton Del Rosario will ignore all knees and elbows that go his way. Etheridge will keep watch. They will all compete. No matter how hard we wish, the Azkals wonât play like gods. Theyâre human; prone to error, doubt. But so is the opposition. Indonesian players arenât immortals; never immune to pressure, hardly exempt from failure. So please donât talk about moral victories just yet. Not when weâre so close. Even if Azkals arenât gods, just like punk, the Azkals arenât dead. -- GMANews.TV
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