OVER the past couple of months, a new hero has emerged here in the Philippines in the person of 21-year-old Alexandra “Alex” Eala, a professional tennis player making waves on the Women’s Tennis Association (WTA) tour, not just for her scary amount of talent, but for the huge fan following she has. Earlier today (Monday, August 10), Alex got bounced out of the WTA 1000 Toronto Open in the round of 16 by Swiss player Belinda Bencic (who is also very good, and ranked number 12 in the world going into the tournament), which was disappointing but not entirely surprising; coming off her victory in the Washington Open a few days ago, her first tour title and the first for a Filipino tennis player, and playing two grueling matches in Toronto against Alycia Parks and Caty McNally, the poor kid is probably a bit worn out. At least she’ll get an extra day or two of down time before she jumps into the next tournament, the WTA 1000 event in Cincinnati.
I will cheerfully admit that I am an unabashed fan of Alex Eala, mostly for her own sake, although the “Filipino” aspect of the whole thing is delightfully interesting. Regardless of who she is or where she came from (Quezon City, apparently), she is scary good, and the best evidence of that is what other current and former tennis greats have said about her. Not since the likes of Tracy Austin or Martina Hingis has there been another young player of Alex’s caliber, and it is universally agreed that it is just a matter of time – and probably not much time, at that – until she cracks the Grand Slam. Possibly as early as next month at the US Open, although grass seems to be her real forte.
As a competitor and a person, in a sport that is known for shall we say, difficult personalities, she is damned near perfect: Well-spoken, in three or four different languages, respectful and complimentary of her opponents whether she wins or loses, and never failing to express her appreciation for tournament organizers, workers, and her legion of fans. Her competitors likewise speak highly of her, and she is evidently well-liked by the other young ladies on the tour; being a modern kid, she often posts pictures and videos to her social media showing her enjoying outings with some of the other well-known players.
Apart from her own talent, and the impact that is having on the sport, the other thing that is attracting world attention is Alex’s Filipino fanbase. The Filipino diaspora numbers somewhere upstairs of 10 million people (out of a population of about 118 million), spread all over the world, although the biggest Filipino expat and migrant populations are in the Middle East and North America. Thus, virtually everywhere she goes, there is a ready-made fanbase at hand; tournament organizers consider this a marketing dream, and have candidly said so every time they’re asked about it. In Toronto, all of Alex’s matches had to be played in the center court stadium, because so many tickets were sold that the crowd could not be accommodated in any of the secondary courts.
The Philippines does not consider itself a sporting powerhouse, which is probably a result of the country’s inexplicable fascination with basketball, a sport that it comprehensively sucks at. However, it has had its sports heroes: Manny Pacquiao, who may be the greatest boxer to ever live, hails from here, as does probably the world’s best billiards player in history, Efren Reyes (although my friend Ed insists that any game that can be played in a bar is not a real sport). The Philippines has had an Olympic gold medalist in weightlifting in Hidilyn Diaz (who is, or at least was, a Sargeant in the Philippine Air Force, a factoid I found oddly charming for some reason), and currently one of the world’s top pole vaulters in EJ Obiena.
Nonetheless, sports heroes are perceived as being few and far between, and so when one does appear, Filipinos are effusive in their fandom. When Manny Pacquiao was at the height of his career, the entire country would grind to a halt on a Sunday morning when his fight was televised, and his popularity was such that it got him elected to a term in the Senate – although he wasn’t very good at that, and thankfully left politics for other ventures afterwards.
There is something different about the fandom following Alex Eala, however, and it is perhaps because the sport is tennis – where audiences have traditionally tended to be smaller and painfully polite – that it stands out. The thousands of Filipinos who have filled venues during the current tour have at times been criticized for treating the event like a football match, cheering loudly at sometimes the wrong moments, and filling the stands with flags and placards. However, tour organizers and most especially, the other players, have expressed appreciation for them and the lively atmosphere they bring. All of Alex’s most recent opponents have praised her fans, and in most cases, expressed astonishment at gaining hundreds or thousands of new Filipino followers on their social media accounts after their matches.
Even so, I didn’t really get the “Alex phenomenon,” even though I can see it on TV, until this past weekend while I was doing some errands in the nearby shopping center.
It was late Saturday morning, and while the weather around our part of the Philippines has been absolutely awful for the past week, I decided to go out anyway, as I needed a couple of necessities from the drugstore and the grocery, and an hour or so free of my kids who have been stuck at home due to the inclement weather sounded appealing. As I wandered around the mall trying to decide where to get a bite to eat, I noticed that the craft brewery where my buddy Suiee and I occasionally unwind had Alex’s match (she was then playing Caty McNally) on their big screen TV. I’d been following the match on the live scoring app on my phone – it was tied at one set apiece at that point – and intentionally not watching it so as not to jinx her; but the bar has a good food menu, and I had time, so I figured what the hell, may as well watch the third set.
And who was watching? Besides me, a half-dozen other middle-aged guys, hanging on every shot, wolfing down forkfuls of food or slurps of coffee in between points, and cheering every point Alex won as if their lives depended on it. It was clear as soon as I walked in that none of these guys knew each other, nor did I know any of them, but here we were, a little community around a common cause for 45 minutes, watching a girl who could be our granddaughter play tennis. And when she won, everyone ordered a beer, high-fived everyone else, toasted her success, and then dispersed to do whatever we needed to do, go buy cat food, or get the prescription filled, or stop by the hardware store.
That, to me, felt somehow magical, and in a way, I hope that young Alex never realizes it, because the pressure of expectations might be too hard to bear. But she seems like she’s doing okay; whether that’s training, or upbringing, or her natural personality, I don’t know. If I ever have the chance to meet her, the first thing I will do is thank her; win or lose, she gives the rest of us the chance to think that this lousy world and the people in it maybe aren’t so bad after all, and that is a wonderful thing.
