Build a Nation Through Sports: An Inspiration from the Alex Eala Historic Victory in Guadalajara

 *Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

 

After watching Alex Eala win the 2025 WTA 125 in Guadalajara, I felt a deep surge of pride as a Filipino. There she was—barely in her 20s—holding her racket high, defeating the world’s best in a sport that once felt out of reach for kids like us. And I thought to myself: if Alex can do this, then maybe we Filipinos can still dream of greatness in all sports. That victory was not just hers. It was ours. It inspired me to write this reflection, not just as an observer, but as someone who has loved and lived sports all my life.

I am a sports enthusiast. Growing up, I loved playing basketball, chess, judo, and soccer. I even tried volleyball, but I admit—I really sucked at it. Table tennis was fun and kept me quick, while badminton I realized, demands so much energy. Running gave me discipline and endurance. Tennis always fascinated me, but I never had the chance to pursue it because rackets were expensive, and the sport seemed reserved for the children of the rich. As a kid, I even tried boxing with my friends in our neighborhood—just friendly matches, but they gave me a taste of what courage and grit in the ring feel like.

Sports shaped me—not to become a world champion, but to understand discipline, humility, teamwork, and resilience. They were life lessons disguised as games. And this is why Alex’s victory, and the victories of so many other Filipinos, resonate with me personally.

I remember when basketball was the pride of the Philippines. There was a time when we dominated Asia, defeating teams like Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Taiwan, Indonesia, Cambodia, Vietnam and others by huge margins. But those days are long gone. The world has caught up, and some of those same countries now beat us. Sports have evolved, and while we once rested on history, others invested in development.

Yet we have proof of what is possible. Look at Carlos Yulo, flipping through the air in gymnastics with the precision of an artist. Look at EJ Obiena, soaring in pole vault, beating Olympic champions. And who can ever forget Hidilyn Diaz, who lifted not just iron plates but the dreams of an entire nation to win our first Olympic gold medal?

But our story is not only about triumphs—it is also about painful losses. We lost Wesley So, one of the brightest chess players of our time, because of politics in sports. Imagine—we were once the home of Eugene Torre, Asia’s first Grandmaster, and Rosendo Balinas, who conquered Russia in chess. We had Paeng Nepomuceno, a bowling legend with Guinness records. We had Efren “Bata” Reyes, the magician of billiards. And yet, their names are fading from memory. Kids today do not know them. Maybe this is one of our biggest failures—we don’t celebrate our sports heroes enough to inspire new generations. Instead, our youth are obsessed with basketball hype or e-games. Nothing wrong with that, but where is the balance? Where is the connection to our real champions?

When Ferdinand Marcos Jr. won in 2022, I hoped he would revive the vision of his father, who launched the Gintong Alay Program. That program gave us Lydia de Vega—the fastest woman in Asia, who carried our flag with pride. But after her, no one followed. The program died, and so did our momentum.

Now, instead of building our own champions, we rely on Fil-foreign players and naturalized athletes, especially in basketball. It is painful. How can a nation of 112 million Filipinos still search abroad for athletes? And how can we, an archipelago surrounded by seas, still fail to produce an Olympic gold medalist in swimming? Meanwhile, Singapore—a tiny city-state—already has one through Joseph Schooling. Their victory wasn’t an accident. It was the fruit of planning, investment, and vision.

And here’s the bitterest truth: we have the money. Billions are budgeted, but they vanish in corruption. The ₱1 trillion flood control program, where 70 percent was reportedly plundered, is a shameful example. Just imagine: if those stolen funds had been invested in sports, the Philippines could already be the Sports Mecca of Southeast Asia. We could have training centers in every province. We could have swimming pools for every region. We could have nurtured every gifted child into a champion.

Because in truth, sports are not separate from governance. Olympic medals are not just about athletic talent—they are proof of a government’s priorities. They show how wisely a nation invests in its people. They reflect vision, planning, and discipline.

But here is where we must also be practical. What if the national government cannot deliver? What if corruption keeps eating up funds and opportunities? Do we simply give up? No. Life must go on. Sports development must go on.

This is where our provinces and governors can step in. Through the League of Provinces of the Philippines (LPP), we can build localized sports programs thru the dynamic leadership of LPP president Governor Reynaldo Tamayo Jr. Governors can create their own provincial sports academies, develop their own grassroots programs, and nurture talents directly from their communities. After all, every province has its own pride, its own unique strengths. Ilocos might excel in athletics, Cebu in swimming, Negros in boxing, Bicol in martial arts, Mindanao in soccer. If the national government fails, local governments can succeed—if they have the vision and the will. 

Maybe it’s time we stop waiting for one big national program to save us, and instead let the provinces rise. Imagine each province having its own sports development program, coordinated but independent, producing champions from the grassroots. That way, we are not just waiting on a few in Manila, but empowering every corner of the country. 

And maybe, just maybe, this is how we can truly honor the dream of Gintong Alay, and all the champions who came before us.

As I reflect, I see the constellation of our heroes—Eugene Torre, Rosendo Balinas, Lydia de Vega, Paeng Nepomuceno, Efren Reyes, Hidilyn Diaz, Carlos Yulo, EJ Obiena, Wesley So, Manny Pacquiao, and now Alex Eala. They are stars shining in our history. But stars should not stand alone. We must connect them, build constellations, and let them guide the next generation.

If we can do this—whether through national will or provincial action—then one day, the Philippines will not just be remembered for a few miracle victories, but as a nation that rose through sports, just as it chose to rise as a people.

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 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

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Flags in the Stands, Floods at Home: What Alex Eala Teaches Filipino Leaders

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope

 

After posting my last blog entry, I was supposed to take a rest from writing, but I cannot control myself because of the happiness that I am feeling now. I stayed awake until four in the morning, Philippine time, just to watch Alex Eala’s match at the US Open. Every serve, every rally, and every point felt like a battle fought not just on the court but for the pride of the Filipino spirit. I cheered in the silence of dawn, holding my breath as she clawed her way back from a 5-1 deficit in the final set, and I cried with her as she fell to the ground in victory after stunning 14th seed Clara Tauson in a 7-6(11) decider. For the first time in a long while, I felt what it truly meant to celebrate being Filipino. Yet even as that pride burned inside me, another reflection took hold: why is it that a young woman with discipline and integrity can bring honor to the nation on the world stage, while many of our leaders at home continue to fail us with corruption, ghost projects, and betrayals of trust?

 

Her win was historic. She became the first Filipino in the Open Era to win a main-draw Grand Slam match, a feat that will be recorded in tennis history and remembered by Filipinos for generations. But Alex’s victory was more than a personal milestone—it was a lesson written in sweat, grit, and sacrifice. She did not win through favors or shortcuts. She won because of years of preparation, a life of discipline, and an unyielding commitment to represent the flag with pride. How stark the contrast is when we look at politics in our country, where so many victories are manufactured through deception, where billions of pesos vanish into ghost projects, and where floods continue to wash away homes and lives because leaders chose greed over governance.

 

Watching Alex rally back reminded me of how nations, too, can recover from adversity—but only with discipline and integrity. She did not crumble under pressure, and she never gave up even when defeat seemed certain. Politicians should take this to heart. Leadership is not about clinging to power or enriching oneself. It is about fighting for every point on behalf of the people, about working tirelessly without shortcuts. If Alex can train relentlessly to win a tiebreak, why can’t our leaders train themselves in honesty and service to win the greater battles of poverty, disaster resilience, and national dignity?

 

What moved me just as much as Alex’s grit was the crowd. At Flushing Meadows, Filipinos abroad turned the stands into a sea of Philippine flags. Their cheers drowned out distance, reminding Alex that she carried her people with her. On social media, Filipinos in the United States, Europe, and other parts of the globe flooded timelines with their pride. That image of unity in the stands—strangers bound only by a shared love of country—was powerful. It was, in fact, the perfect picture of what Timpuyog Pilipinas is all about: unity, love, cooperation, and collaboration for the upliftment of the Philippines. In those voices cheering together, we saw what happens when Filipinos set aside differences to support one goal. If only we could replicate that same spirit of togetherness in our politics, our governance, and our nation-building.

 

Our obsession with basketball is another mirror of our misplaced priorities. Across the Philippines, basketball clinics sprout like mushrooms—an indication of our passion, yes, but also of our narrow vision. While we pour all our energy into a sport where the global stage is nearly unreachable because of physical and systemic limitations, we ignore sports like tennis, gymnastics, athletics, and chess, where Filipinos have a fighting chance to dominate. Alex’s victory proves this. She is competing and winning against the world’s best, yet her path has been one of personal sacrifice rather than national investment.

 

The lesson of Wesley So should haunt us. Here was a Filipino chess prodigy, a grandmaster who could have given the country decades of global recognition. But he was not valued, he was not given the support he deserved, and so he left to play for the United States. Now, every trophy he raises is one that could have been raised for the Philippines. Will we repeat the same mistake with Alex Eala? Will we wait until she is embraced fully by another country before we realize what we have lost?

 

We also cannot forget Carlos Yulo, who gave us two gold medals in gymnastics and carried the country’s name to Olympic glory. Instead of celebrating him as a national treasure, many turned to bashing him because of family issues splashed in the tabloids. It is a shameful habit of our society to pull down the very people who lift us up. The same applies to our amateur boxers, who have consistently delivered Olympic medals despite limited support and constant struggles. Their victories prove that Filipinos have the talent to stand among the world’s best—if only the system would nurture rather than neglect them.

 

And then there is EJ Obiena, the Asian pole vault champion who shattered records and carried the Philippine flag in one of the most demanding sports in the world. With his height, Obiena could have easily chosen the popular path of basketball, a sport that dominates our nation’s imagination. But he chose pole vaulting instead—a sport little known or supported in the Philippines. Against all odds, he climbed world rankings, battled giants, and gave us medals in competitions where Filipinos had never before stood on the podium. His story tells us two things: first, that Filipino talent can flourish even in fields where no path exists, and second, that true champions do not follow popularity; they follow excellence. Yet how much easier would his journey have been if he had been given the full backing of the government from the start, instead of facing bureaucratic squabbles and funding controversies?

 

And yet, while our athletes scrape by with meager resources, the government loses billions daily to corruption. Senator Ping Lacson, in one of his privilege speeches, estimated that over seventy-five percent of government spending is lost to corruption, with as much as one billion pesos vanishing every day. Imagine, then, if even a fraction of that wasted wealth were invested in sports development. Imagine modern facilities, world-class coaches, nutrition programs, and scholarships. Imagine supporting children from the provinces who have raw talent in swimming, track, weightlifting, or martial arts. Perhaps by now we would be a sports superpower, consistently placing in the top ten in world competitions, harvesting medals and fame, and instilling national pride not through scandals but through excellence.

 

Alex Eala’s victory is a reminder that integrity and discipline are not optional—they are the foundation of true success. Her story is not just about tennis; it is about what happens when pride for the flag is matched with sacrifice and commitment. Politicians should see in her a reflection of what they lack. The floods that drown our communities are not merely natural disasters—they are the result of years of ghost projects, missing billions, and leaders who never prepared the way Alex prepared for her matches. The shame is not in being poor or vulnerable; the shame is in being betrayed by those entrusted to protect us.

At four in the morning, when Alex’s tears fell on the court and Filipinos everywhere cried with her, I realized something powerful: we are still capable of greatness. But greatness requires more than cheering; it requires change. If a young woman with a racket can show us what it means to honor the flag, surely our leaders can learn to honor it with honest governance. If our athletes can train without resources yet still bring home medals, surely our government can redirect billions away from corruption and into programs that will build not only champions in sports but also a nation of dignity.

 

The question is whether we will learn. Will we continue to obsess over basketball clinics while ignoring sports where we can truly excel? Will we continue to let corruption bleed us dry while athletes like Alex Eala, Carlos Yulo, EJ Obiena, Wesley So, and our boxers fight their battles alone? Or will we finally treasure them, support them, and take pride in them, not only when they win but also when they struggle?

 

Alex Eala’s victory was more than historic. It was prophetic. It showed us what we could be if we valued discipline over corruption, if we invested in excellence instead of theft, if we honored our flag with action instead of rhetoric. At dawn, as I turned off my 85-inch television, I realized that her triumph was not just a sports story. It was a call to the nation—a challenge to our leaders, to our people, and to our future. Will we listen?

 

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 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

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