The trouble with seemingly nondescript sporting events is that somebody often has to explain why we should care. There are rankings to memorize, rivalries to understand, and statistics we pretend to have been following since childhood. Surfing has an efficient solution to this problem. Put the athletes in the water and let the ocean decide who deserves our attention. It has no interest in press releases, world rankings, or the opinions of people sitting comfortably on dry land.
At Cloud 9 in Siargao, Filipino surfers John Mark Tokong and Jayuard Alciso recently gave the international surfing establishment a reminder that it had arrived in somebody else’s neighborhood. Tokong defeated Brazil’s Samuel Pupo, a world-ranked contender, in his Championship Tour debut. Alciso followed by beating French Olympic champion Kauli Vaast. The local crowd had every reason to celebrate. For once, the visitors were the ones who needed directions.
Granted, both Filipinos eventually bowed out in Round 2. The scoreboard, being a scoreboard, recorded their exits without sentiment, but the results hardly diminished the impact of their performances. They had beaten established global stars, demonstrated their ability to compete at the highest level, and made the home crowd believe that the locals belonged in the conversation.
Tokong’s victory was especially satisfying because it was built around familiarity. He knows Cloud 9, its moods, its rhythms, and its little tricks. The ocean is a difficult opponent to scout. There is no playbook to steal, no tendency to exploit on video, and no guarantee that the wave you studied yesterday will behave the same way today. A surfer can have all the talent in the world and still spend an afternoon waiting for the waves to stop being difficult. This is probably the only sporting venue where the home crowd can cheer loudly while the playing field changes its mind.
Alciso’s upset was another reminder that Filipino athletes can earn a place at the top shelf when given the opportunity. It was a remarkable result, although the temptation to turn every victory into a national revelation should be resisted. We have a habit of discovering our athletes only when they defeat somebody famous. Never mind that they have usually been working for years, decades even, before we arrive with flags and sudden expertise. We celebrate the breakthrough, then move on to the next breakthrough, as though sporting developments were a series of surprise birthday parties.
That is the real challenge for Philippine surfing. Siargao has the waves, the talent, and the attention of the world. What it needs is a pathway that allows young surfers to develop without having to rely on the occasional wildcard, a generous sponsor, or a fortunate swell. Coaching, training, competition opportunities, and financial support are less glamorous than a spectacular barrel ride, but they are what keep the next generation in the water. A country cannot build a sporting program out of applause alone, even if the applause is deserved.
The Philippines Pro was a reminder that we can host the world and compete against it. Tokong and Alciso may have exited the competition in Round 2, but they left behind a much bigger impression than their final positions indicate. The next step is to make performances like theirs routine rather than exceptional. We should want Filipino surfers in international competitions because they belong there, not because the organizers have decided to give wild cards to the locals.
The ocean will continue to offer its opportunities without checking passports or asking who deserves them, and perhaps we should learn from this. The waves are already doing their part. It’s time the rest of us stopped treating Filipino sporting talents like unexpected visitors.
Life Sport is a commentary from Anthony Cuaycong, publisher of Context.ph and a lifelong sports fan who follows most things involving a ball, a racket, or an unreasonable amount of arguing. He considers himself a reasonably informed fan, although his family remains unconvinced that watching sports qualifies as work. His views are entirely his own, including the ones he later wishes he had kept to himself.
