By BILL VELASC A plan for Olympians

One of the greatest concerns of Filipino Olympians past and present is the welfare of their fellows. They are a small enough number so as not to be considered a neglected sector of society, but that does not diminish their value. They don’t really have their own representation as a group, and there are many reasons for that. Sadly, this is why many of them fall through the cracks long after their greatest accomplishments have faded into footnotes in history. But the alarm should be sounded.

To begin with, Philippine Olympians are not a group. They are a collection of high-achieving, genius-level individuals, the Mensa in sportswear. They are not even bound by a common association, as they develop in a variety of sports. Their needs are as diverse as their unique athletic abilities. They are, truly, one of a kind. The only thing that binds them is the experience of qualifying for the Olympic Games once, twice or, for the rare few, three times. Olympians are not employees. They served the twin masters of country and their own passions for excellence. They are committed, not to any person or group, but to a higher standard of performance. In that case, they are likely to burn brightly, but also to burn out quickly. If they do not know how to monetize their craft, they start from zero once they retire.

The Philippine Olympians Association, a group moved by the more civic-minded of their kind, counts roughly 150 past Olympians among their number, the oldest of whom played for the flag in the 1952 Games in Helsinki, Finland, just seven years removed from World War II. And they are dwindling in number. Most of them hit their peak when television just started to spread throughout the country. Many of them retired before the Internet and social media ruled society. In other words, they lived in your father’s or grandfather’s world of radio, newspapers and rotary telephones.

The most important question at this point is who is responsible for them when they retire. The easy answer is their national sports association, but we all know that that won’t happen. NSAs are more focused on who’s next, not who’s done. And except for the few who stay on as coaches or trainers, the rest simply fade away, to resurface only when a medical crisis necessitates a plea for financial aid. By the time, it is almost too late. Olympians like Anthony Villanueva and Turo Valenzona made it back onto the sports pages as victims of financial and/or medical issues. 

So who can care for them? By default, it would appear that the Philippine Sports Commission is best equipped to help. This is not to encourage mendicancy, but to figure out how to make their contributions worth something to a new audience.

First, the government can initiate free classes in entrepreneurship, financial planning, coaching and communications or other livelihood programs. Mentors may also assess the overall skills of national athletes to prepare them for a life beyond sports. If they communicate better, the Olympians can teach or write books and receive residual income. It won’t be much initially, but it will be a start.

Secondly, they can coach abroad upon retirement, where the pay will be better. This will be one way of continuing their sports legacy and also, if they work at an international sports school, further their own education. Many athletes and coaches now live comfortable lives abroad, where their achievements count for more and have value. Sad that to say, that is not the case in the Philippines, where purchasing power is weak.

The media will also play a role in creating a better life for Filipino Olympians. The more we connect them to the present, the more relevant they become, the more value they have. There is much newspaper space and airtime that can be used to remind the general public who these people are. Local governments may grant special privileges like discounts to Philippine Olympians given proper identification. Many of them are qualified as senior citizens, anyway, so it wouldn’t hurt to add a few dozen more.

Our Olympians are a priceless source of pride and inspiration. Yet, they are left out when they can no longer serve. The least we can do is take care of them while they are still with us.