I could remember vividly in the unholy hours of Dec. 19, 2022, some seven kilometers from the quaint town of General Tinio and on the far end of Nueva Ecija, around 3 a.m. with the skies waiting to break dawn and the breeze ever so pinching for a late-year gust from the ranges of Sierra Madre, I was overly ecstatic, perhaps stoked from the unhealthy mix of excitement, lack of sleep, and the taxing drive from Manila.

Why would I not be? It was Lionel Messi, the hero and the greatest, and Argentina in a nerve-wracking penalty shootout against Kylian Mbappe and the mighty France in the final of the FIFA World Cup in Qatar.

Fighting to get enough network signal through the corners of our rented Airbnb space to continue watching the match that still had no winner after 120 minutes of play, I could not scream my frustrations out, or so did I beneath the sheets.

Maybe because I was too careful not to alarm our host Peter, a retired Australian teacher, or maybe because a whisper would echo on the creases of the nearby Minalungao National Park and wake up the dead from a cemetery guarding the entry of our elevated vacation place.

Then it was Messi, dropping to his knees after Gonzalo Montiel scored the title-clinching penalty, who became the image of victory for La Albiceleste.

Then it was me, some thousands of kilometers away from the epicenter of action, celebrating the success of a foreign team and a generational icon, adoring the man's resolve in the twilight of his career. I am not an avid football fan, nor a follower of Messi or other stars who descended on the oil-rich Middle East nation, but these kinds of stories I will surely be driven by.

And on that epic morning more than three years ago, when the rest of the world roared and us silent, maybe on that very rural barangay, I was alone cheering in muffled noise.

We, Filipinos, could only envy the magnitude of one World Cup, this time hosted by three countries — the US, Canada, and Mexico.

The intensity seemed to be out of our country's consciousness even in this edition, with the hype of every development unnoticed from all platforms.

Again, the scarcity of exposure and harnessing of local talents is a perceived notion for our lack of participation in such a stage. But with proper alignment of resources and better scouting of potentials in a sport we are genetically fitted for, maybe our dream is reachable after all.

In the absence of our men's team in the grandest tournament, we could all pray for the triumph of our lady booters who have qualified for the Women's World Cup next year in Brazil.

The Filipinas booked their second consecutive appearance after beating Uzbekistan, 2-0, in the Asian Cup playoff match in Australia last March.

When time comes we have scaled such high mountains, both our male and female squads on the greenest of pitches, I will not be alone raving wildly on one peaceful morning.

For now, I will keep my emotions in check.

(Ramon Rafael Bonilla is the editor of Manila Bulletin's Sports section.)