In the hallowed grounds of collegiate sports, the echo that follows the final whistle is rarely a peaceful one. For the DLSU Green Booters, a triumphant return to the Final Four after a long drought was met by an unexpected extra-time exit, leaving behind a crushing silence that lingered long after the stadium floodlights dimmed.
For Team Captain Frank Labayen, however, the true measure of a Lasallian athlete transcends the grueling aftermath of a heartbreak. The team’s narrative now unfolds in the quiet, untelevised stretch of the offseason, proving that a legacy is built not just on elusive championships, but on an unbroken resolve to push forward.
Donning the Green-and-White
Representing La Salle is no easy task. It demands a relentless mindset that embraces the heavy expectations of the program’s winning standard. For Labayen, this commitment translates into a distinct work ethic that defines the Taft-based squad, anchoring leadership to a tangible team identity built on endurance and effort.
“The value that I want to instill [in] all my teammates, and [in] myself personally, is to play up until the final whistle,” the skipper emphasizes. Whether a match demands 90 or 120 minutes on the pitch, his directive is clear: never stop pushing. This shared grit has forged a tighter brotherhood within the Green Booters, establishing a culture of resilience that extends well beyond the playing season.
Unlike their UAAP rivals that will be losing key seniors, the Lasallians boast a fully intact roster entering the preseason. Labayen notes that the growing pains of their recent rebuilding phase will make them much more formidable as the rookies adjust to the collegiate pace. Armed with established chemistry and ongoing preparations for tournaments like Ang Liga, the squad is quietly putting in the work to chase a championship.
Processing the postseason
For many athletes, the haunting playback of what-ifs during the postseason can trigger a mental crash. Yet, Labayen serves as a blueprint for the modern competitor by navigating the thin line between gut-wrenching responsibility and the necessity of moving on. While he carries the visible scar of the foul that decided the outcome of their closing match, he insists on a clean distinction between the pitch and his own identity.
“What happens on the field stays on the field,” he asserts, using the mantra to shield against the offseason blues. He understands that while the pain is irreversible, an athlete cannot afford to be “stuck on feeling down” if they intend to climb back up.
This “proud but not contented” mindset is a delicate emotional balance of allowing a player to honor their legacy without letting the achievement soften their edge. For Labayen, processing the end of a season is not about coldly forgetting, but about refusing to let heartbreak become dead weight.
“I’ll put it as the last season already, and then look forward to the next season,” he explains, suggesting that the most effective way to heal is to transform the agony of a setback into a step forward, ensuring the ghost of the previous campaign does not haunt the first steps of the next.
Trusting the team
Ultimately, the transition out of the locker room requires a messy, human balance between vulnerability and composure. “I actually couldn’t hold back my tears and my emotions after that final whistle,” Labayen expresses with striking honesty, revealing that even the team’s anchor can be pulled under by the tide of a closing chapter. He admits feeling deeply overwhelmed by the manner in which their campaign concluded. “I feel so responsible [for] our last game and our loss, because it was me who actually committed the foul against UP.”
Yet, instead of hiding his disappointment behind a captain’s mask, he leaned into authentic vulnerability and raw commitment to resonate with a squad that shared his pain.
This environment of mutual trust allows the captain to step back during the quiet months, allowing the team to exist as people rather than just performers. “Once it’s offseason, I don’t bother them,” he notes, respecting the need for individual processing. He understands that forced discipline during the immediate aftermath achieves little, choosing instead to protect the squad from burnout and keep their collective spirit healthy.
“Sometimes a setback is a step forward also.” By giving himself and his teammates the grace to process the loss naturally, they are not simply playing through the pain, but also navigating a clear space where they can find their love for the game once again.
When the season ends and the uniform is stripped away, what remains is the human underneath the athlete. The final whistle marks the beginning of a messy, quiet transition where athletes must navigate the heavy void left by adrenaline and face the haunting playback of what could have been. Healing from a season’s heartbreak does not come from letting go of the past, but from using it as a means to process the weight of the journey ahead. When the stadium lights fade completely and the noise of the crowd dies down, true victory is found in the unyielding resolve to move forward, proving that the end of one chapter is simply the necessary, unspoken space from which the hunger for the next emerges.