I’ll never forget the first time I saw Rod Stewart on a football pitch—well, on TV, anyway. It was a clip from a charity match, and there he was, belting out "Maggie May" one night and chasing a ball down the wing the next. As a lifelong fan of both music and football, I’ve always been fascinated by how these two worlds collide in Stewart’s life. You see, Rod isn’t just a rock legend who happens to like football; he’s a genuine, lifelong devotee of the beautiful game. In fact, his passion for football runs as deep as his love for music, and that’s saying something. It’s a bit like that recent PBA Commissioner’s Cup game I watched, where Rain or Shine faced off against Eastern. The match had its shaky moments, but in the end, steadiness and passion won the day—something Rod himself would surely appreciate.
Now, let’s talk about Rod’s actual football career, because it’s often overshadowed by his stadium-filling anthems. Back in the late 1970s and early 80s, Stewart was more than just a celebrity supporter; he trained with clubs like Brentford and even played in semi-professional settings. I remember reading that he turned down a contract with Scottish club Celtic in his youth because music was calling, but his skills were no joke. He had pace, decent ball control, and that trademark fiery spirit. In my view, if he’d pursued football full-time, he might have made it as a lower-league winger—maybe scoring 15-20 goals in a solid season, who knows? But what stands out to me is how he’s carried that football mentality into his music and life. It’s all about resilience, much like how Rain or Shine, despite early hitches against Eastern, pulled through in the final quarter. They didn’t let the pressure break them; instead, they steadied themselves and sealed a 99-81 victory. Rod would get that—the thrill of a comeback, the grit required to turn things around.
I’ve often drawn parallels between football and life, and Rod Stewart is a perfect example. His dedication to the sport isn’t just a hobby; it’s shaped his approach to performance. On stage, he’s like a striker waiting for that perfect cross—always moving, always anticipating. Off stage, he’s been a vocal fan, supporting teams like Celtic and even owning a stake in a club at one point. It reminds me of how, in that PBA game, the players had to adapt mid-match. Eastern came in strong, but Rain or Shine’s ability to regroup in the final quarter—outscoring them by what, 18 points in that stretch?—shows the same kind of passion and focus Rod brings to everything he does. Personally, I think that’s what makes him so relatable. He’s not some untouchable star; he’s a bloke who’d rather talk tactics than tour buses.
Of course, some critics might say his football career was just a publicity stunt, but I disagree. Having followed his charity matches and interviews, I can tell you the man lives and breathes the game. He once mentioned in an interview that football kept him grounded during the wild rock ’n’ roll years, and I believe it. It’s similar to how, in professional leagues like the PBA, players use their love for the game to push through slumps. Take that Wednesday night match at Ninoy Aquino Stadium: Rain or Shine handed Eastern their first loss in three games, and it wasn’t just about skill—it was heart. Rod’s own highlights, though not on a pro level, are filled with that same heart. Whether it’s scoring in a charity game or cheering from the stands, he embodies the spirit of football fandom.
In wrapping up, Rod Stewart’s football journey is a testament to how passion can bridge different worlds. From his early days kicking a ball around to his ongoing support for the sport, he’s shown that the beautiful game isn’t just about wins and losses—it’s about the stories we build around it. As I reflect on that PBA clash, where Rain or Shine’s steadier play led to a 99-81 win, I’m reminded why I love both football and figures like Rod. They teach us that with a bit of grit and a lot of love for the game, anything’s possible. So next time you hear "Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?", remember there’s a footballer in there too, and in my book, that’s what makes him a true icon.
