With less than a week left in the country, it was time for our final Philippines-based session of the summer. We had a special one planned with an amazing organization called House of Sarang in nearby Makati. I booked a Grab and started the 20 minute trek to their location.

It was Sunday and traffic was light, thankfully. The Paranaque to Makati route can sometimes take more than an hour on a busy day, so I certainly wasn’t taking current road conditions for granted. I arrived at House of Sarang’s front gate and was greeted by a frenzy of handshakes and high fives from the boys set to participate in the day’s session. Just behind them was a woman named Ma’am Airish, House of Sarang’s lead social worker, and my trusty contact person.

She greeted me equally warmly and got ready to formally introduce me to the boys. She started in Tagalog, so that the kids could better understand her. “Thankfully, guys, Coach Stephen speaks Tagalog as well… here I was thinking I’d run out of English words,” she said, smiling shyly.

The kids tried to wrap their heads around it too. “Wait, so you are Filipino, but also American?” they asked. “And you speak our language, but also English?” I nodded my head and smiled. 

“Astig! (Cool!)” they replied.

The kids were fired up for the session, made obvious by their choice of outfits for the day. The youngest boys were donning matching FC Barcelona kits, while the older boys rocked House of Sarang uniforms. You know what they say – “look good, feel good, play good” and our beneficiaries sure had that list fully checked off.

Ready to get the show on the road, we organized ourselves with line partners and began our ‘lakad’ (walk) towards the day’s venue. “Do you need any other equipment?” asked Ma’am Airish, prior to our walk.

“May ball ba kayo? (Do you guys have a football?)” I asked, hoping to supplement the number of balls I had already brought.

“This one lang (only),” she said, holding up a blue and yellow number, meant for volleyball. “Is that okay?”

“Oo syempre, kahit isa lang basta meron (Of course, even if it’s just one, at least we have another ball),” I said, happy to have at least one additional resource.

Fortunately, Ma’am Airish had been hard at work prior to the session and locked in a solid block of time for us at the Barangay covered court located nearby. The only thing left to do was get there, or so at least I thought. We weaved through tight streets and flowing traffic and eventually reached our destination. Much to my surprise, when we reached the covered court, it was fully occupied. Apparently, a local league was running a basketball tournament. My heart sank, briefly.

Ma’am Airish had intentionally coordinated things ahead of time in order to prevent this very issue. Unfortunately, the message was never relayed from the Barangay to this basketball league.

“Pasensya (sorry), Coach Stephen, they said they’re just going to finish up this last game,” Ma’am Airish told me.

Thankfully, if I was patient, the kids were somehow even more so. They didn’t fret, they just posted up along the line of scooters parked outside and took the added time to chop it up with me. About a half hour later, it was time for us to enter the court. Originally reserved from 2-5 PM, the scheduling error had eaten into our time block, so I was eager to get things moving.

With some basketball players still lingering on the court and sidelines, I sensed some reservation from our participants. I saw them a bit embarrassed to participate and realized they might be holding back out of fear. I, too, was feeling it as well. The eyes felt a bit judgemental, I suppose naturally so, given the sport’s current popularity.

Luckily, minutes passed and the nerves faded away. All it took was a quick warmup and the kids were fully invested, as was I. We broke into our listening exercise, which the kids really appreciated. They even were lining up to run the drill themselves from center court.

“Kili kili ni partner mo! (Your partner’s armpits)!” I yelled out, when it was finally my turn to run the drill.

“Nooo bro, ‘diri yan! (No, that’s disgusting!)” groaned some of our participants.

“Buhok! (Hair!)” I exclaimed.

I looked to the right, where two groups instantly dropped to the floor to grab the ball.

“Hoy, guys, I yelled out buhok!” I said.

“Buhok!” I called out again.

Two little ones grabbed for a ball.

“Kuya anong ginagawa mo… sabe ko buhok! (Bro, what are you doing… I said hair!)” I exclaimed.

“Oops!” he said, turning red in the face.

Next, it was time to shift over to relays. Ma’am Airish graciously helped split the boys into teams, while I prepared our cone-laden grid. The kids moved through this one with plenty of effort and excitement, joyfully cheering for their teammates to reach the finish line. It really was fun to see. After, we hit some ball control grids, each led by our older participants. Headers, volleys, push-passes – they all gave their best attempts and after two or three run-throughs, we could see some real improvement there already.

Sitting back to admire the session and how it was playing out, I took a moment to chat with Ma’am Airish.

“Ganda talaga ng jerseys nila, Ma’am Airish… Barcelona! (Their jerseys are so beautiful!)” I said.

“Oo kase our founder is Korean and fan sya talaga sa football (Yes, because our founder is Korean and a big fan of football),” she replied, giving context to the moment.

With no drills left to run, we finally reached my favorite part of the session. It was time to scrimmage! We would be running 6s with keepers. Counting out participants, I realized we would have four teams, but one was short a player due to one of the boys falling ill before the session.

“Cge ako na dyan (Okay, I’ll play with them),” I said.

“Yes, Coach!” my teammates responded, energetically.

Game after game, the kids gave it their all, darting from one side of the court to another, eager to score the game-winning goal for their team. Even the little guys were involved, sticking their feet into challenges and booting the ball upfield as defensive clearances.

“Last game boys! Two minutes and then we’re done!” I called out.

“G, Coach!” they said, affirmatively.

*tweeeeeeet* I blew the scrimmage to a close and we made our way to the wings to inventory our supplies. Almost instantly, the basketball players flooded back onto the court. We paid it no mind, though, for I was tired and so were the kids. We trekked back to House of Sarang, eager to put our things down so we could rest and rehydrate. I had a grab bag of gifts for the boys, so I decided to leave them with Ma’am Airish to better distribute them at a later date.

“Jerseys, tee-shirts, and footballs… all for us?” she asked.

“Yes, Ma’am!” I replied.

“Wow, thanks so much, Sir!” she said, a sentiment quickly echoed by many of the boys. 

Next, it was her turn to share a gesture of goodwill.

“Coach, would you like to have dinner with us?” she asked. “Usually the older boys cook, but syempre they were out for training so our housemother just made some simple spam. Is that okay with you?”

“Oh syempre! Paborito ko yon (Of course, that’s my favorite),” I replied, ever-so-hungry after the day’s long session.

“Coach!” yelled out a group of boys, hoping I might join them at their table.

“Coach, dito! (Here, Coach!)” yelled another table.

Ultimately, I found my spot at the oldest boys’ table. The kids prepared a plate for me, with three portions of spam and a healthy serving of rice. One boy set a bottle of water in front of me, while another handed one directly to me. Ma’am Airish, added a third to the mix.

“Dameng tubig, noh? (It’s a lot of water, right?)” I said, extremely thankful for the provisions.

“We’re sure you’re thirsty after the session,” Ma’am Airish replied, with a smile.

The food was ready, but it wasn’t yet time to eat. Why? Because the kids had to say a quick grace beforehand.

“Dapat ako magpray dba? Kase ako ay bisita nyo (I should be the one to pray, right? Because I’m your guest),” I said, with a laugh.

“Tama! (True!)” they yelled out in response.

I hit a quick prayer with the boys, then turned my gaze back to the spam in front of me. Before digging in, though, I took a moment to chat with Ma’am Airish and give her my honest feedback regarding the session.

“Actually, I was very pleased with the boys’ skill level,” I told her.

Providing some additional context, I continued, saying, “Usually, when we run programs here in the Philippines, it’s a basic introduction to the game of football. But here, today, the kids displayed a surprisingly high level,” I said. She smiled. “Especially the bigger boys, right?” she asked. I nodded my head.

“They love football here,” she said. “Ronaldo, Messi, Mbappe, they’re always hoping and asking for those jerseys come Christmas time.”

I turned to the boys seated beside me. “Did you guys watch the World Cup?” I asked. “Yes, Coach!” they answered, happily recounting their favorite games from this year’s cycle.

“Feeling ko magsleep sila mabuti mamaya. Dameng pawis kase! (I feel like they’re going to sleep well later. They sweated a lot!)” I told her.

She nodded her head. At the very least, I knew I was DEFINITELY going to sleep well after running the day’s session. Turning back to the boys, I asked them what the deal was with phones.

“Well… we have a three strikes policy,” one of them said.

“First one. Taken by the teacher. Second, parents must pick it up at the end of the day. Third, they keep it in the office until the end of the school year,” he continued.

Sounded about right, to me.

“Anong fourth?” I asked him, the boy looking at me confusedly.

I continued. “Nagbebenta sya sa palengke! (They sell it at the market!)” My seatmates burst out with laughter, nearly spitting out their spam and rice.

Conversation continued to flow like butter.

“Boys, what was your favorite part of the session?” I asked.

“Hmm… yung laro (the game),” one of the boys answered, referencing our earlier scrimmage.

“Ako din! (Me too!)” said another.

“How many goals did you score?” I asked.

“Ako, 1,” answered a boy to my left.

“Ako, 3,” said one to my right.

“Grabe yung 3!”

The kids were proud of their stats, and heck, they deserved to be! They put on an absolute show during that scrimmage. I’d be bragging too, if I was them. I was happy. I could tell the kids really did enjoy the football session. Even as I walked around our dinner tables, stacking up dishes, I saw our participants practicing our neck stall and even demoing stepovers – knocking out some of our greatest hits post-program.

“Wait, boys!” I called out. “Which one of you wanted me to do 10 push-ups kanina (earlier) during my neck stall?” I asked, ready to (jokingly) address the beef.

“Ako (me),” said a young boy named Ferdinand, raising his hand.

“Grabe ka saakin! (That’s too much for me!)” I told him.

The boy wasn’t ready to let it go.

“Okay, Coach, next time I’ll say 15!” he replied.

I didn’t just call his bluff, I raised it.

“Cge (okay)! Why not 20!” I said, with a chuckle.

“Basta ikaw din, hah? (As long as you do it too, yeah?)” I said, winning the draw.

Anyway, Ferdinand really came out victorious, considering my arms were about to be freaking sore the next day, thanks to his push-ups command. With dinner done and home calling my name, I joined Ma’am Airish for one last quick tour of the facilities.

She showed me the boys’ bedrooms before heading up to the third floor. It being a Sunday, I asked Ma’am Airish if she and the boys had gone to mass yet.

“Yes, Coach!”

“Where?” I asked.

“Dito lang (here), sa third floor!” she replied.

“Wow!” I said, taking a quick pit stop for a prayer.

Tour done and dusted, I paused for one last chat with Ma’am Airish on my way out. She wanted to share her thoughts on the program.

“Thank you, Sir,” she started. “Actually, the boys were so happy and it was so good because they really don’t get a chance to go out often and play.”

“So, parang special event sya, dba Ma’am? (So, it was like a special event, right Ma’am?)” I asked.

She nodded her head in agreement. Apparently, collaborations like this are few and far between, hence why they had been so excited to accommodate our program proposal.

“We had a basketball coach come about two years ago and the kids really enjoyed it… but it happens very, very seldom,” she said.

“So, thank you so much, Sir Stephen,” she said with her last set of words, opening the front gate for my Grab waiting outside.

A couple boys peeked out from the second floor.

“See you next Sunday, Coach! Charot! (Just kidding!)” joked one of the youngest of the bunch.

Until next time, boys!