The truth about being a national athlete with pole vaulter EJ Obiena
Heavy is the head that wears the pole vaulting crown.
EJ Obiena, dubbed the pole vault king of Asia, proves his qualification for the title anew month after month. He opened the indoor season last January with a gold medal at the Perche En Or competition in France. He defended his title at the Orlen Copernicus Cup in Poland last February and won gold. He won his third straight Southeast Asian Games gold medal in Cambodia last May. A month later, he shattered the Asian record at the Bergen Jump Challenge in Norway and joined the exclusive six-meter club. This month, his silver medal at the BAUHAUS-galan in Stockholm, Sweden secured his spot at the 2024 Paris Olympics.
But his claim to the throne wasn’t as ideal as it sounds. “It’s not a secret that the funding we receive is not enough for us to achieve what is expected of us Filipino athletes.”
In an interview with The Philippine STAR, EJ breaks down what it’s like to be a professional Filipino athlete into three categories: the good, the bad, and the ugly.
The good
“My responsibility is bigger than just the sport.” Beyond being an athlete, EJ has a crucial role he is proud to fulfill: a guidepost for the next generation and his fellow Filipinos.
“The good that comes with (being a professional athlete) is being able to inspire the next generation, being able to unify a nation to a single goal,” he said. “You know how Hidilyn (Diaz) was able to win gold and it was a whole nation celebrating for a single gold medal in Tokyo? It’s such a powerful thing that probably not a lot of people comprehend or realize.”
“The good that comes with (being a professional athlete) is being able to inspire the next generation, being able to unify a nation to a single goal.”
EJ painted the picture more clearly by recalling a scene from one of his competitions: “You’re in a stadium of a hundred thousand people, then you see your flag being waved by a few people. It doesn’t matter how small that flag is or how few the people are; they are there to watch a fellow Filipino compete on the world stage. That is enough to spark whatever you need, for you to go beyond what you can do,” he recounted. “I’m getting goosebumps just imagining it.”
He also said that it’s now “a golden age for Philippine sports,” and that we must use and maximize what we have now. “If we want to produce more (world-class athletes), we need to use the champions we have now to inspire the next generation. It doesn’t matter how good our facilities are; if the next generation doesn’t want to be world-class, it doesn’t matter.”
“You can teach a lot of things to an athlete, but you can never make them hungry. You can’t teach that drive,” EJ paused to look for a synonym that best describes this passion, and he landed on the word obsession. “For them to have that, they need to look up to someone. Like, ‘One day, I want to be just like Hidilyn. One day, I will represent my country on the world stage.’”
The bad
“Put it this way,” EJ started. “It’s hard to be an athlete, it’s harder to be a professional athlete, but it’s even harder to be a Filipino professional athlete.”
“There are lots of things that come with being a Filipino athlete that doesn't come to other nationalities. The financial support of the government may or may not be enough, but we need to face the fact that we are a third-world country. And this sport is not the number one priority.”
“At this time and age, our government and sports agencies are not fully prepared yet to consistently produce world-class athletes.”
According to EJ, whose career now spans almost an entire decade, it’s better now than when he first started. “But it’s still far from what a world-class athlete competing on the world stage needs. At this time and age, our government and sports agencies are not fully prepared yet to consistently produce world-class athletes.”
When asked what the ideal support for athletes would look like, EJ explained: “It’s supposed to be conducive for all Filipino athletes to become world-class. Conducive has a single meaning, but it doesn’t fit a single mold.” Sometimes, what an athlete needs could be a proper training facility they can use anytime they need it, or peaceful sleep in safe accommodation. Sometimes, he said, all they need could be a sense of security and stability so that they can focus on their goal.
The ugly
Before everyone would come to know him as the World No. Two, EJ was just a kid from Tondo, Manila. He credits his roots for his determination. “I have that angst and I take pride in it,” he said. This angst is what pushes EJ to prove himself in the face of doubters, and to fight for what is right.
When the Philippine Athletics Track and Field Association (PATAFA) accused EJ and his coach, Vitaly Petrov, of embezzlement and fraudulent liquidation reports in November 2021, he spent the next four months proving his innocence and accountability, never once faltering. Even when he was in hot water, he turned down offers from other countries to change his sporting nationality.
“It’s become a norm for national athletes to have issues with the Philippine Sports Commission, the Olympic Committee, their federations, even officials (and) politicians. If it was just me that had an issue with my federation, then fine. But Hidilyn Diaz had her own fair share, maybe more. Eumir Marcial had his own. Wesley So had his own. These are athletes that wanted to achieve greatness for their country, but for some reason, they went through fire.”
“I’m far from the ideal. I think that’s what pisses a lot of people off, because I don’t fit in their mold. I would not recommend you (do) what I did. Hopefully, the good things that I do—fighting for what is right, believing in yourself when you know you have a point—are what people would take away.”
