03 - Second Whistle
Title: Second Whistle
Characters: M, S, A, L, Coach S, H
Disclaimer: My take on the real story. If things are assumed, I apologize.
Beta'd by peculuiarities . Danke schoen!
The wind whips my hair as I run to the lone school bus waiting in front of the MP Building. Coach S holds the door open for me as I enter, facing 5 girls in uniform varsity attire. I mouth a ‘hello’ to my friend M who’d invited me to join her earlier. She mouths one back.
After a few more minutes, the car starts and we leave the school. The trip takes around 90 minutes (just as long as one football match, provided injury time and extra time aren’t added), including the pick-ups we make along the way, but it feels longer to me. The girls are really noisy, sending disreputable photos to each others’ phones for blackmail (even to Coach S, who, upon receiving it, simply says, ‘Tigilan niyo na nga iyan’1) and singing popular songs drunkenly. I smile and suppress laughter occasionally, but most of the time I tune out, staring at the cars passing by and wondering where in the hell we are.
There are few cars at ISM’s parking lot when we arrive, but there are fewer people milling around. I guess it’s way too early. We enter the vast field, and M and I fall in step beside each other. We both walk in silence.
‘Wow, ano ‘to, Astroturf?’2 I say.
‘I’m not sure,’ M replies. ‘But I’m pretty sure it’s not real grass.’
‘Nag-sy-synthetic grass na pala tayo.3 Cool,’ I say.
We reach the stands and the girls start unpacking their things. Coach S hands out bands to hold long socks up and almost everyone take their pick. Another group of girls sits out on the far side of the field in a circle, talking and laughing. The sound carries all the way to our side. Aside from that though, it is quiet. Deathly so.
A, one of our girls, had apparently been injured the last time she played, so Coach S sets about bandaging her left leg. The others kid around for a while until Coach S snaps, ‘Hoy, huwag kayong babagal-bagal! Lilipat tayo sa kabilang field kasi iba pala gagamit nito, kaya bilisan niyo na manamit!’4
I hear murmurs of ‘Yes Coach’ among them and one by one, they stand up and leave except for A, M, Coach S, and me. Soon, A limps off too, and now it’s only the three of us left.
Coach S hands us jugs of water. ‘O M, lipat na tayo.’5
M nods and Coach S goes ahead. We follow not far behind, still in complete silence. I haven’t said a single word since our conversation about the grass. And still, we don’t talk. The silence seems too sacred to break. Besides, M is getting into her game mode, with her serious face on.
The other field is just as big and is near the one we had come from. The girls drop their things on the stands and head on out to the field under the bright, cold sun. M calls my name and, when I smile, leaves her things and follows the others. Coach S gathers them in a line and gives a pep talk and starts discussing strategy.
I shift restlessly on the stands. Nothing to do. Suddenly my phone lights up and I am relieved. As I send messages back and forth with my sister and some friends, a different group of girls moves onto the other side of the field. Soon they start a discussion, too.
After some minutes, our girls start stretching, headed by M. They do funny dancey exercises across the field, but they are familiar to me, as I have seen and experienced doing them, too. Halfway through stretching, a man in a gray shirt (who’s been running around in front of me for a while, laughing and panicking) blows his whistle shrilly and both teams move off the field for a final pep talk.
L, another girl from our team, runs over to the stands to get her water jug. ‘Okay ka lang diyan, H?’6 she says as she passes me.
I smile. ‘Yeah, okay lang.’7
She jogs back down to join her group. The morning is young, and the sun is shining brightly. The teams gather on the field and shake hands. I look around me and there are barely any people, only one old man, two young girls, three other adults, and the occasional bus driver.
The silence is deafening.
At the second shrill of the whistle, my blood starts running. The ball appears on the green turf and disappears like magic at the touch of a shoe.
Welcome to a Philippine football match.
1 ‘Stop it.’ (Fil.)
2 ‘Wow, what’s this, Astroturf?’ (Fil.)
3 ‘I didn’t know we started using synthetic grass already.’ (Fil.)
4 ‘Oy, don’t be slow! We’re going to a nearby field because others will use this one, so dress up faster!’ (Fil.)
5 ‘M, let’s move.’ (Fil.)
6 ‘Are you okay there, H?’ (Fil.)
7 ‘Yeah, (I’m) okay.’ (Fil.)