The Allure of Simpler Times: Brundage’s Ideals
and the Filipino's yearning for virtue over glory
In today’s fast-paced, hyper-commercialized world of sports, many Filipinos find themselves yearning for an era when athletic competition was less about monetary rewards and more about the pursuit of personal and collective glory. This sentiment is closely aligned with the ideals once championed by Avery Brundage, the controversial former president of the International Olympic Committee (IOC), who insisted that athletes should remain amateurs, untouched by the lure of money and fame. For Brundage, sport was sacred, a celebration of human excellence, not a commercial enterprise.
This vision of sport as an expression of virtue resonates with a cultural ethos found in many parts of the Philippines, where traditional values like hard work, discipline, and sacrifice are often revered. In a society where economic inequality is pervasive, the belief that athletes should achieve greatness through grit and perseverance, rather than financial gain, strikes a deep chord. This mindset mirrors Brundage’s famous declaration that “the Olympic Games are for the athletes, not for the profits,” echoing the Filipino appreciation for humility and integrity over material success.
Brundage’s Vision of Amateurism (and how it still resonates)
To fully understand why Brundage’s ideas hold such appeal in certain circles, one must delve into the origins of his philosophy. Influenced by the teachings of Pierre de Coubertin, the father of the modern Olympic Games, Brundage believed that sport should transcend the materialism of the modern age. De Coubertin envisioned the Olympic movement as a way to cultivate moral character, promote international peace, and inspire individuals to reach their fullest potential. He famously stated, “The important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle; the essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well.” This message of valuing effort over victory resonates deeply with the traditional Filipino ideals of hard work and discipline.
Coubertin’s ideals of amateurism and moral education also resonate with many Filipinos who admire athletes for their discipline and dedication rather than their financial success. In this view, cash rewards are also seen as potential distractions, tempting athletes to focus on material gain rather than the love of the sport itself. This belief aligns with Filipino values that emphasize modesty, humility, and self-discipline as the true markers of success.
Brundage often reiterated similar sentiments, arguing that “the essence of sport is its moral and ethical basis.” He insisted that financial rewards could corrupt athletes and undermine the true spirit of competition. This view resonates with Filipino culture, where the saying “It is better to die poor but with dignity" or "better to be poor with wealth yet rich in law" reflects a shared belief that success achieved without integrity lacks true worth. In a world increasingly dominated by commercial interests, this idealization of amateurism becomes a refuge for many, echoing the values of sacrifice and moral fortitude that have long been celebrated in Filipino society.
Demetrios Vikelas, the first president of the IOC and a key figure in the early days of the Olympic movement, also contributed to this philosophy. Vikelas emphasized that sports could act as a unifying force, bringing people together through shared values of fair play and discipline as well as shaping moral character. He once remarked, “The Olympic Games should be an education in life, not in the pursuit of wealth.” In heading the IOC, Vikelas viewed athletic competition as a way of developing individuals who were both physically and morally strong. This idealistic view of sport as a tool for character-building resonates with Filipinos who believe that athletes should be models of virtue and discipline.
This echoes the ideal Filipino cultural narrative that elevates moral character and discipline over material gain, reinforcing the idea that the true essence of sports lies in personal development rather than financial success. The romanticized image of the humble, hardworking athlete who competes for the love of the game is seen as the epitome of success, while the financial rewards that accompany modern sports are often having mixed reactions.
The Filipino Yearning for Virtue through Simplicity and Discipline
The ideals of Brundage and de Coubertin find a peculiar resonance in the Philippines, where many still romanticize a simpler time when success was viewed as a product of discipline and sacrifice. In Filipino culture, there is a long-standing admiration for those who rise from humble beginnings through sheer hard work, whether in sports or other endeavors. The notion that an athlete should endure hardship and make personal sacrifices to achieve greatness, rather than being rewarded with substantial financial gain, is consistent with the country’s traditional values.
This admiration is reflected in stories of national heroes like José Rizal and Andrés Bonifacio, who are celebrated not just for their achievements but for their sacrifices in the pursuit of a greater cause. Their dedication to the nation and its ideals serves as a model for athletes who aspire to embody similar virtues. The Filipino collective memory values individuals who prioritize the community’s well-being over personal gain, reinforcing the belief that true greatness is measured not by wealth but by one’s contributions to society.
Brundage’s vision resonates within this context, where the athlete’s journey is seen as a testament to personal integrity and societal values. He argued that “the Olympic athlete should exemplify the highest moral character,” a sentiment that aligns with the Filipino worldview, where honor and dignity are held in higher regard than the pursuit of wealth. The belief that athletes should aspire to become role models for the youth echoes a broader societal expectation that those in positions of influence must uphold the values of hard work, perseverance, and integrity.
The Filipino saying, “What good is the grass if the horse is already dead?" highlights the futility of pursuing wealth and fame without the foundational virtues of hard work and discipline. This reflects a broader understanding that material success is meaningless if it does not stem from genuine effort and dedication.
The Moral Tensions of Modern Sport
But while this vision of amateurism holds strong appeal, particularly among those who long for simpler times, it is increasingly at odds with the realities of modern sports. Today, competing at the highest levels of international competition requires far more than just discipline and hard work. Athletes must have access to world-class training facilities, specialized coaching, advanced nutrition, and comprehensive medical care—all of which come with significant financial costs. The demands of modern sport have made it nearly impossible for athletes to excel without substantial financial support from sponsors, governments, or sporting organizations.
Consider the case of Filipino gymnast Carlos Yulo, whose rise to international prominence has captured the admiration of many Filipinos. While Yulo’s success is a testament to his discipline and hard work, it is also the result of substantial financial investment in his training and development. Without the backing of corporate sponsors and government programs, Yulo would not have been able to access the facilities and coaching needed to compete at the Olympic level. His achievements are a product not just of his personal dedication but of the financial support that has enabled him to train at elite levels.
On the other side of the spectrum, Manny Pacquiao amassed millions as a professional boxer, yet his career epitomizes a departure from the Olympic ideals celebrated by figures like Avery Brundage. While Pacquiao’s achievements in the ring are undeniably impressive, they reside within the realm of professional boxing—a domain often viewed through the lens of entertainment rather than the pure love of sport. Brundage, who championed the values of amateurism and moral integrity, might see Pacquiao’s success as emblematic of a commercialized sports culture that prioritizes financial gain over athletic purity. The spectacle surrounding Pacquiao’s matches, marked by extravagant promotions and pay-per-view events, reinforces the notion that professional boxing has evolved into a form of entertainment, contrasting sharply with the Olympic spirit, which celebrates competition for its own sake, fostering a sense of camaraderie, dedication, and respect for the sport.
This is where the tension lies. For those who romanticize the past, the idea that athletes should be rewarded with financial compensation for their efforts can seem like a betrayal of traditional values of an olympian. Lucky for Pacquiao tho as he's in sportainment and therefore it's his "profession." For in their view, financial rewards to an olympian have the potential to corrupt an athlete’s commitment to their craft, shifting their focus from the joy of sport to the pursuit of wealth. Brundage himself once argued that “money and sport do not mix,” a sentiment echoed by those who fear that modern athletes are losing sight of the values of discipline and sacrifice.
The Practical Realities of Financial Rewards
However, this view overlooks the practical realities faced by modern athletes. In today’s globalized and "practical" world, the level of competition is far more intense than it was during Brundage’s era. Athletes are no longer competing on local or national stages; they are representing their countries in a global arena that demands complete dedication to their craft. To compete at this level requires not just talent and determination but significant financial resources.
For athletes like Yulo, financial rewards are not just an incentive; they are a recognition of the immense effort, time, and resources required to compete at the highest levels. In many cases, these rewards are not luxuries but necessities that allow athletes to focus entirely on their training without the distraction of financial instability. The notion that athletes should have to take on additional jobs, as Brundage suggested, is simply not feasible in today’s sporting environment.
Moreover, financial rewards are a way of ensuring that an athlete’s sacrifices do not go unrecognized. In a country like the Philippines, where financial success is often hard to come by, rewarding athletes for their achievements can serve as a form of social justice, providing them with the means to secure a better future for themselves and their families. Financial rewards, in this sense, are not corrupting but empowering, enabling athletes to continue pursuing their passion without fear of financial hardship.
The practical reality of athletes like Carlos Yulo or EJ Obiena attaining financial rewards through their successes at international competitions poses a challenge to those who hold the ideal of amateurism, as championed by figures like Avery Brundage. For those who adhere to the purity of the Olympic spirit—where sports are pursued for personal growth, national pride, and the sheer love of competition—the notion of financial gain can seem incompatible with the ethos of the Games. Brundage, in particular, was known for his rigid stance on amateurism, believing that athletes should reject the lure of materialism and maintain an austere lifestyle dedicated solely to the pursuit of excellence.
In contrast, Manny Pacquiao’s career as a professional boxer is often viewed differently. His boxing matches are seen as “entertainment”—a form of sports that has long been intertwined with commercial interests. Pacquiao, as a professional athlete, does not carry the burden of Olympic ideals. His career, guided by promoters like Bob Arum and Don King, was built around the pursuit of championships, fame, and financial success, all of which are openly acknowledged as part of professional sports. For this reason, Pacquiao’s financial rewards, sponsorships, and fame do not seem out of place; rather, they are part and parcel of professional boxing’s nature, where the sport serves as a form of mass entertainment.
However, when one considers Olympic athletes like Yulo and Obiena, the financial rewards and fame they have gained can seem, from Brundage’s purist viewpoint, to be corruptions of the athlete’s role. In Brundage’s world, the amateur athlete represents the pinnacle of virtue: someone who competes out of love for the sport, not for material reward. This contrasts with professional sports, where the athlete’s success is often judged by the size of their paycheck or the number of sponsorships they secure.
In the Filipino context, Brundage’s ideals of austerity and moral discipline might resonate strongly. Many Filipinos place high value on virtues such as humility, discipline, and decency, qualities that reflect the notion of moral integrity over material gain. The idea of an athlete who competes for the sake of the country and for personal honor—without succumbing to the temptations of wealth—can seem noble and virtuous. This belief is tied to broader cultural values that emphasize the importance of morality, simplicity, and restraint in the face of materialism, a mindset that aligns well with Brundage’s vision of the Olympic Games.
In the Philippines, where materialism is often viewed with suspicion, and where traditional values such as "good moral character" and "discipline" are held in high regard, Brundage’s views might sound especially virtuous. His emphasis on the internal moral character of the athlete—who should train and compete out of love for the sport and for personal improvement—aligns with the common Filipino idea that true greatness comes not from financial reward, but from embodying values such as discipline, humility, and integrity.
While sports today are undeniably affected by commercialization, many Filipinos still cling to an ideal of athletes as exemplars of moral virtue. The nation’s admiration for athletes who persevere despite adversity, who remain humble in victory, and who represent the country with honor reflects this ideal. Figures like Yulo and Obiena are celebrated not only for their athletic achievements but for the discipline and hard work they put into their craft. Yet, the financial rewards and sponsorships that come with their success may inevitably raise questions about how to balance the purity of competition with the realities of modern sport.
Ultimately, the Filipino viewpoint, informed by traditional values and Brundage’s vision of the Olympics, sees sport as something more than just entertainment or a means to wealth. It is, at its core, a pursuit of excellence that requires moral integrity, discipline, and humility. As much as professional athletes like Pacquiao might be celebrated for their success, there remains a lingering admiration for those who seem to compete for something greater than financial gain—for the love of the sport, for personal honor, and for the good of the nation.
Striking a Balance: Preserving Virtue in a Commercial World
The challenge, then, lies in striking a balance between preserving the values of discipline and humility while also recognizing the importance of financial support in modern athletics. For many Filipinos, the ideals of hard work and sacrifice will always be central to their understanding of what makes an athlete great. But this does not mean that financial rewards must necessarily undermine these values.
As modern sport continues to evolve, it is possible to envision a future where athletes can receive the financial support they need without losing sight of the love of the game. This requires a rethinking of the relationship between money and sport, moving beyond the rigid ideals of Brundage’s era to embrace a more nuanced understanding of how financial rewards can coexist with the values of dedication and discipline.
In the end, the key may lie in recognizing that financial compensation is not inherently corrupting but can serve as a way of ensuring that an athlete’s hard work and sacrifice are properly recognized. The purity of sport, in this sense, need not be compromised by financial rewards; rather, it can be enhanced when athletes are given the tools they need to succeed on the world stage.
As more athletes like Carlos Yulo continue to rise to prominence, the tension between traditional values and the realities of modern athletics will still likely persist. For now, those who yearn for “simpler times” may find themselves at odds with the demands of contemporary sports. But by rethinking what it means to reward athletes, it is possible to create a sporting culture that honors both the virtues of hard work and the practical necessities of competition.
In conclusion, the intertwining of Brundage’s ideals with the Filipino pursuit of discipline and excellence in sports serves as a rich tapestry reflecting the broader values of Filipino society. The journey ahead may require adjustments to reconcile these seemingly disparate perspectives, but in doing so, there lies the potential for a sporting culture that honors the past while embracing the future.
Ultimately, as Brundage articulated, the true spirit of the Olympics lies not merely in competition but in the pursuit of human excellence, a pursuit that resonates deeply within the Filipino soul. It calls upon individuals to strive for greatness while never forgetting the ideals that bind them to their heritage. This harmonious balance can pave the way for a thriving athletic community that honors its roots while aspiring to new heights.