What is worth dying for?

For fathers, defending his family? Yes.

For journalists, performing their duties even under fire? Yes. Definitely.

For law enforcers, to protect innocent citizens from criminals? Yes.

For non-combat sports athletes, to win a championship? No.

Hell, no!

So, it boggles my mind that Tab Baldwin subjected his wards to a type of training where loss of lives was possible. And who were the people at the Ateneo De Manila University (ADMU) who enabled that?

Baldwin’s approach over romanticizes sports, or makes winning a championship or sports itself larger than it should be, or larger than life.

As the popular saying goes: “It’s just a game.” And it is. 

So, I believe there was also no way the late Rene Baterbonia and Divine Adili wanted to risk their lives for Ateneo, because they dreamed to lift their families out of poverty from the fortune that awaited them in their best years that have yet to come.

So, Baterbonia and Adili wanted to fight another day not only for the institution they represented, which is Ateneo, but also for their families.

But what was in the mind of Baldwin when he subjected his wards to a deadly afternoon at a coastline in Aurora? Did he want to inculcate that a UAAP cage championship was worth dying for?

If that was the case, there won’t be this much public outrage over the deaths of Baterbonia and Adili, unlike when a boxer or MMA fighter, or a racecar driver or motorcycle rider dies in competition or training.

Why? Because competitors in boxing, MMA, and racecar and motorcycle racing give one of their hands to the grim reaper. What about basketball? No.

And the mindset of athletes who compete in “deadly” sports is simple – if I die, then I die. So, let them live and let die, or live and let live.

We have also witnessed what happens when a competitor dies in a combat sports or a motorsports event or training – there is a period of short grief and mourning, and everybody moves on.

But it is still the duty of coaches and trainers to protect the lives of their wards from killing themselves, literally, to win. Read that again.

From boxing’s rich history, the legendary boxing trainer Eddie Futch is highly respected for restraining his ward Joe Frazier to come out for the 15th round for the Thrilla in Manila in 1975.

Futch said to Frazier, “You couldn't see in the last two rounds. What makes you think ya gonna see in the fifteenth?” 

Frazier insisted he still wanted to fight Ali, saying: “I want him, boss.”

But Futch said: “Sit down son, it's all over. No one will ever forget what you did here today." 

And their fight was brutal – with Ali saying after the bout that it was "the closest thing to dying."

But behind the Thrilla was a rivalry rooted in bitterness, need for vengeance, pride, ego, and deep emotional wounds. And Ali and Frazier were willing to die to settle the score.

If Futch let Frazier enter the final round and Frazier got brutalized or died, Futch would have been hated forever by fight fans.

And here’s the catch – not all sports rivalries end up as fatal or brutal as that of Ali and Frazier, especially at the school level. Never!

Usually, it’s the type of sports that pit individuals against each other – such as combat sports and motorsports – that produce deadly rivalries. And when an athlete in those sports knows death can claim him or her one day, then let it be. Just like what happened in the Thrilla.

The lessons from the Thrilla are simple: Let an athlete decide for himself or herself if he or she wants to die for a victory.

But it is also the sacred duty of a coach or trainer to prevent their ward from killing himself or herself for the sake of winning.