“ANO, magbabago na ba kayo ng buhay?”
The entire van cracked up with laughter as Rudy del Rosario deadpanned his players from the Philippine Homeless World Cup (HWC) Team with a poker face. The team was entering the Bureau of Corrections in Muntinlupa City. The lads who are headed for Paris in August for the Homeless World Cup were to play a friendly against the Puzakals, a team of football-playing inmates from the Medium Security Compound at Bilibid.
As the two teams lined up for the 11-a-side match at the Sunken Garden of the New Bilibid Prison, the stark contrast between them was not lost on me. On one side, the HWC team is on a second lease of life, so to speak. The boys are given the opportunity to be in a program that will not only enable them to play the game but to represent the Philippines, continue their education and find work once their playing days are done. On the other side, the Puzakals, who are incarcerated for 20 years and under for a variety of offenses including murder, robbery, kidnapping, drug pushing and other crimes are in a rehabilitation program to get back into the real world.
“Pag natalo namin kayo, kami pupunta ng Paris,” jokes one Puzakal. There’s more laughter.
The composition of the Philippine Homeless World Cup Team is of boys who have run away from home, are dirt poor as they literally live on the streets, or have been abandoned. In other nations, the definition of “homeless” can vary. It can be that someone sleeping in a friend’s couch is considered homeless.
Because of our Asian size, they aren’t physically imposing. Nevertheless, what they lack in height and strength they make up with their fighting heart. And in last year’s Homeless World Cup in Rio de Janeiro, they won eight of 11 matches in the best showing yet.
“The Azkals are ranked 150-something in the world by Fifa,” further deadpans del Rosario. “The HWC team is 25th in the world in street soccer. The Puzakals are No. 1... in Munti.”
Archie Bueno, a former national teammate of del Rosario who once played for University of Santo Tomas, loosely formed the Puzakals two years ago. The prison management welcomed the football program as part of their rehabilitation program and they were formally organized a year later. Today, the team has 21 players in its roster, including a British national who is also serving time in Philippine jail.
When an inmate enters prison, he is instantly hit with a tidal wave of negative emotions. Is this the end of the world? Tapos na ang buhay ko kasi mabubulok ako rito. Wala na akong pag-asa.
Bueno, who is in for a variety of drug-related offenses, waxes sentimental in the midst of the football fever sweeping the Sunken Garden pitch. This is the second time he has been cut off from his comfort zone. The first time was when he left Barotac Nuevo, Iloilo, to play in Manila. “Wala akong kilala,” he says, suddenly growing pensive. “Ayun kung anu-ano pinagagawa ko.”
Chris Araneta, one of the Puzakals, is in for a variety of crimes. He comes from a good family in Cebu but in the recklessness and utmost foolishness of youth, he got caught up in all sorts of wrongdoings—most of which belie his peaceful appearance. The moment he was locked in, he felt his world cave in. “Kapag sinimulan niya ikwento buhay niya,” says a prison official about Araneta, “iisipin mo, akala ko sa pelikula lang.”
“Ganyan talaga,” sums up Bueno. “Nasa huli ang pagsisisi.”
His voice trails off. Life behind prison walls has been hard. He has been cut off from his loved ones and the simple things he used to take for granted such as going out at night with friends or even going to a movie. Even now when the Puzakals are playing football in a pitch with no walls, he is still boxed in. There are armed guards in every corner of the field.
I spoke with one guard. “So far wala pa naman sumubok tumakbo.” His automatic rifle is on safety but his finger is near the trigger.
All the members of the Puzakals have some footballing experience. “Para mas madali turuan,” says Bueno who once played striker but now is his team’s playmaker.
Education. Every one of the members of the Puzakals is in the prison’s education system.
Before they are accepted, the inmates have to go through screening. And then they have to renounce their loyalty to their respective jail gangs.
“The only gang I have here,” pronounces Dr. Resureccion Morales, chief of the Training and Education Division of New Bilibid Prison, “is the educational system.”
All inmates are free to enroll in an education program very similar to the outside world. There’s basic all the way to secondary and tertiary. And when they graduate, it’s replete with the graduation ceremony down to the toga and diploma. The educational system is an affiliate of the University of Perpetual Help.
For Bueno, there is no more sacrosanct covenant inside jail than school and football. “Two things that I took completely for granted,” he laments in a mixture of English and Filipino. “Now I am graduated from college and I get to play football.”
In the match’s opening minutes, Bueno deftly lays a through ball for a teammate that is consummated with a goal. The speed is gone due to inactivity and the ravages of drugs and time. But the skill, it is still there for all to see. For two hours, he gets to reclaim a piece of his own life.
Note: The Homeless World Cup Team defeated the Puzakals, 4-1.
