The roar of the crowd in the SEA Games, when the Philippine football team clinched its recent victories, was more than just the sound of triumph. It was the echo of a nation rediscovering a sport that has long been overshadowed by basketball’s towering presence.
Football’s rise is not accidental. It is the fruit of persistence, of young athletes who dared to dream beyond the hardwood courts and boxing rings. Their victories are not merely goals scored; they are statements of identity. They tell us that Filipinos can excel in the world’s most beloved sport, that we can stand shoulder to shoulder with our Southeast Asian neighbors in a game that unites billions across continents.
In a nation where basketball is the dominant sport and the concept of football’s delayed gratification is looked down upon, it is not surprising that football lacks popularity.
Football in the Philippines has always been a paradox. Introduced during the American colonial period, it never captured the national imagination the way basketball did. While neighboring countries like Thailand, Vietnam, and Indonesia built football cultures that thrived, the Philippines remained on the margins. For decades, our teams were seen as underdogs, often exiting tournaments early, overshadowed by the dominance of others.
I have seen Football Games in the Southeast Asian Games where the country can barely have possessions of the football much more get hold of it to try to the Goal.
The turning point came in 2010, when the Philippine national team—the Azkals—defeated Vietnam in the AFF Suzuki Cup. That victory was dubbed the “Miracle in Hanoi,” and it awakened a sleeping giant. Suddenly, football was on primetime television. Filipinos who had never followed the sport were glued to the screen, cheering for a team that embodied grit and resilience.
Many footballs enthusiast said that the accomplishment was merely a sort of tsamba. But as we knew , walay sipyat ang Tsamba. Like passing the Bar Exams, and when someone is asked how you passed the Bar, the new Lawyer said that Tsamba lang ( a matter of luck ). In corollary Tsamba is a hail Mary Shot , yet it hits the mark. Football is not a matter of luck its an art and science combined and yes, we as a nation is getting victories now.
In the Southeast Asian Games 2025, Out Banatao’s late header sends the Philippines Male Football Team victorious over Indonesia and the Mallie Ramirez late goal propels the Filipinas over defending champions Vietnam..
The double victories are never Tsamba , these are hard earned and well fought. These are good news that deserves follow through.
An academic concern
A student caught using AI to finish a major paper has become the latest storm in a growing list of academic disputes, and the outrage is spreading like a fire no one seems prepared to put out. The issue is clear: schools cannot ignore AI, but they also cannot surrender academic integrity to convenience. A firm, balanced stand is overdue.
On many campuses today, AI sits like an uninvited guest who has somehow become part of the family. Everyone knows it’s there—whispering answers, polishing sentences, summarizing chapters—yet no one openly talks about the awkwardness of its presence. I’ve watched teachers struggle to set boundaries while students cling to the promise of a more manageable workload. The truth is that academic institutions must stop pretending that technology is a passing phase. It’s here, and it’s reshaping how students think, write, and even perceive learning itself.
What should be allowed, then? For me, AI works best when it assists rather than replacing the student’s mind. I see no harm in students asking it to explain a complex theory, reorganize messy notes, or provide examples that deepen understanding. These uses sharpen the student’s intellectual tools rather than dull them. Just as calculators never destroyed mathematics but merely freed learners from tedious computations, AI can help unclutter academic tasks, allowing students to focus on deeper insights. But the key difference is that calculators never wrote essays or crafted arguments; AI, if misused, absolutely can.
And that is where lines must be drawn—dark, unmistakable lines. When students submit AI-generated paragraphs as their own, the entire learning process collapses. I recoil at the idea of a student receiving credit for thoughts that did not pass through their mind, much less their effort. Schools must not allow AI to write academic outputs intended to measure comprehension, originality, and critical thinking. If the student cannot stand behind every sentence with personal accountability, then the work does not belong to them. A diploma loses its dignity when granted to someone who lets a machine think for them.
I also find it irresponsible when institutions refuse to revise their policies to avoid the hassle of adaptation. Pretending the old rules can handle new problems is like patching a leaking roof with cardboard—it looks fine for a moment, and then the storm comes. Universities should invest in more straightforward guidelines, proper training, and honest conversations with both teachers and students. It’s exhausting, yes, but it’s also necessary. Academic culture must adapt without losing the values that define it.
Beyond policing dishonesty, schools must also address the deeper reason why many students resort to AI: they are overwhelmed. Heavy workloads, poor writing foundations, and the constant pressure to perform push them toward shortcuts. I refuse to condemn students without acknowledging the system that drives them to seek refuge in a tool that promises relief. Education must not be a battlefield where survival depends on tricks; it should be a space where learners build confidence in their own voice.
I prefer to see a generation that treats AI as a companion, not a crutch. A good school should produce graduates who can think independently but are not afraid to use technology responsibly. Let the students consult AI, critique it, question it, challenge it, and even outgrow it. What matters is that the mind remains active behind the screen and the heart remains honest behind every submission.
After all, academic institutions should adopt policies that neither ban AI blindly nor allow its reckless use. They should teach students how to use tools without surrendering their intellect. And if institutions embrace this task with clarity and courage, AI will no longer be a threat but a reminder that integrity can still prevail in a world full of shortcuts.