LIFE IS A GINEBRA GAME-WINNING PLAY

“DAD, can we watch this Ginebra game again in Araneta next week?” my teenage son Nathaniel asked me one night. I was working on my laptop for my article to a local literary magazine. He knew I don’t like to be disturbed when I was doing that in my room but, hey, it’s about basketball. And I love basketball.

Nathaniel is as crazy as some boys of his age about the sports. He loves to play hustle games with his neighbor friends at an uncovered court in our subdivision, trying the best way he can to play like his idol Rajon Rondo and Paul Pierce of the Boston Celtics. And he is also a fan of Philippine basketball, the Philippine Basketball Association (PBA) and even the collegiate leagues.

His love for the game heightened when his aunt bought him his own basketball, and I think it was in the same year when I brought him to a PBA rookie draft at Robinson’s Place in Ermita, Manila and he got the chance to meet in person some of his favorite PBA players. I’m sure he enjoyed the experience so much that in the rookie draft the following year, he went by himself (I had a busy schedule at work then) to the same venue and watched how some of his favorite collegiate playmakers, such as Calvin Abueva and Chris Tiu, were drafted to the professional league.

FROM CHECKMATE TO LIFETIME MATES

The Love Story of Nico and Nove

EVERY wedding, so they say, always starts with a love story. Now you may want to listen to this love story of the newlyweds, my sister Nove and my good friend Nico.

First I want you to listen to this story of a shy, but bright-eyed girl in high school. She was a chess prodigy. She’s been good at playing chess, even at a very young age. She had mastered her moves even before she started training with her father.   

One particular day in August, this girl who had just turned 13 went to compete in a provincial tournament. The tournament was a group competition, and boys and girls were mixed.

But during this same period, there was another chess prodigy, a 15-year-old boy who had become popular for demolishing chess players, most of them veterans and well-known players in the province at that time in many local tournaments.  

The girl didn’t expect that she was to compete with this boy wizard. That meeting happened during the penultimate round, a game to decide who would be the champion. And the boy didn’t expect for the life of him, that the girl would defeat him in the match. It was the first time that he lost to the weaker sex, so to speak. His teammates and coach were shocked.  

In the next leg of the tournament, the boy and the girl met again for the rematch. But this time the girl and her team lost. But for the boy, he couldn’t forget that one time in his early chess-playing career he lost to a girl younger than him. This girl has a promise, he told himself.

The two chess prodigies continued meeting each other in school competitions, but this time they played in different categories. While the boy continued to shine in the boy’s category, so was the girl. They beat all their opponents in the provincial and regional meets. And they were constant teammates representing their province and their region in the Palarong Pambansa for two consecutive years. 

Then the boy graduated from high school and went to a college in Manila and continued playing chess. The girl maintained her dominance of many tournaments and went back to Palarong Pambasa during her last year in high school. 

During a chess tournament in Manila the girl and the boy met again. It was during this meeting that the boy introduced the girl to a friend, a chess player from another college. This friend had been scouting for players to play in their collegiate team, particularly the chess team for girls. So our young chess wizard recommended the girl to his friend, and later, the girl was introduced to the coach. An offer for scholarship was made to the provincial girl. And the rest is history, so to speak. 

And did love bloom between the boy and the girl? Of course, not yet.

But before I continue, and before you think I am veering away from Nove and Nico’s love story, I tell you now, that this girl was Nove herself and the boy was Nico. The college was Rizal Technological College (now University) from which they both graduated. And the coach was Mr. Mauro Yasay, who also invited Nove, and later Nico, his chess players to join this church, the Church of the Overcomer.

So let me continue my story. Nove had been a varsity player since her first year in college. Nico after two years in San Sebastian College, transferred to RTU, joining the chess team of Mr. Yasay. Here, Nove and Nico were together most of the time, particularly during practice and tournaments. In 1997, or three years after Nove joined this church, Nico was also asked to join. So it was not only in practice and actual chess competitions that they were together, but also in church activities.   

But in 1999, Nico’s heart had seemingly turned into an uncontrollable knight crisscrossing the chessboard, hoping to checkmate his opponent. He finally made a confession to Nove. He said he had fallen in love with her and wanted to be with her for the rest of his life. But Nove, was shocked, and the ever conservative, shy and very much uneducated in the love department that she was, she didn’t give any response to Nico’s affection. In fact she started avoiding her friend. No checkmate happened. Nico, just like any regular guy in situation like this, made his presence to Nove and their friends become scarce. Now like a game of chess, he changed his move. He no longer went to Nove as he used to do. 

A year after, or in 2000, Nove graduated from college with the degree Bachelor of Science in Computer Engineering. Nico graduated in the following year with the degree of BS Management. 

They parted ways, and went on to establish their respective careers. Nove got a job, so with Nico.  But Nove was not satisfied with the kind of job that she was having then. Because most of the job offers to her were related to accounting jobs, she thought she rather takes an accounting course and be an accountant, than be a mere clerk with an Engineering degree. So, like in a game of chess, she may be beaten, but she can start a winning game. So she packed up her things and went back to our hometown in Ilocos. She enrolled in BS Accountancy at the University of Northern Philippines. With sheer determination and perseverance, she survived all the hardships of finishing the course. And most importantly, she hurdled the CPA Board exam given only last year.

During her absence, Nico went to work in Ateneo as a chess coach and later moderator. In 2008, or before Nove could finish accountancy, he sought out Nove’s contact number from their common friends. He believed that woman’s heart should be so hidden in God so he also had to seek Him for guidance in finding her. He finally got her number, but at that time the number was being used by one of Nove’s nieces. Nico texted her through her niece. He persisted until he made a move that made Nove answer his messages. This started a renewal of their friendship. To Nico, it was a love rekindled. They become active joining church activities together, while their friends were clueless that Nico was earnestly pursuing Nove’s love, because even at this time, Nove was so emphatic in calling Nico kuya. Some would think they were relatives because of their closeness.

So how and when did Nove get checkmated by Nico? Well, it happened in my sister Mahren’s house in Sta. Mesa (Manila). Nico went there to look into and reformat Mahren’s computer, of course, upon Nove’s request. 

Nico was served with paksiw na sili (siling Ilocos used as vegetables) for dinner. Knowing that Nico doesn’t like that dish very much, my younger sister Mahren, playfully challenged Nico to eat all the sili, if that would show that “you really love Ate Nove,” she teased. So Nico, thinking that this was his chance of a lifetime, forced a smile, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, said a little prayer and slurped all the sili in the bowl. But of course, he did that in four hours and some episode and near episode of throwing out. You need to have the fighting spirit. You have to force moves and take chances, a quote he learned perhaps from chess master Bobby Fischer.

Nove was impressed and at that very moment, she knew she finally found the right man for her. A checkmate that ends the game. So she accepted Nico’s love offer and these two former chess prodigies, former teammates in college, church mates, old friends, finally become king and queen of their hearts. And they didn’t have to adjust so much for themselves of their newfound relationship, because they had been there before, shall we say it, unofficially, as more, more than friends.

And the rest again is now history, because right now, my sister Nove and my very good friend Nico would consummate the relationship with their marriage before this church, witnessed by their families, relatives, and friends.

I’ve read that chess is a fairy tale of 1001 blunders, but to Nove and Nico, it is a fairy tale of love and friendship. Their love for each other is sincere and divine because it is also based on good Christian teachings. 

And to end this story, a game of chess may end, but love never is. As written in I Corinthians 13:7-8, “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”

And to Nico and Nove, thank you for sharing us your wonderful love story. May God bless you!

(I read this during the wedding of Nico Alisangco and Nove Valdez on March 24, 2012 at the Church of Overcomer, Taytay, Rizal. I got permission of the couple to post this one in this blog.)

MY CHAMPION TEAM

NO matter how busy I am with office jobs and school assignments, I always find time to watch my favorite team San Miguel Beer when it has a game on TV. That’s why when classes in college were suspended that Friday due to a heavy downpour (a typhoon signal wasn’t even raised in the metropolis by the weather bureau that day, July 17), I left our office earlier than usual and went straight home to catch up the live telecast of an SMB game. But it wasn’t an ordinary game. It was the do-or-die Game 7 Finals match between my favorite team and a more popular and very aggressive opponent, the Ginebra Gin Kings—yes they are still the most popular ball club long after the exit of its legendary playing-coach Robert Jaworski.

I had plans to watch the game live at the Araneta Coliseum in Quezon City, perhaps with my two boys in tow, but I didn’t have the luxury of time and extra budget within that week to go to Cubao for the ticket. Watching a live telecast on TV of a do-or-die match, anyway, is no different than watching it live in the venue; the thrill of the action is also present, except the deafening cheers and boos, and heart-thumping exhilarations from thousands of fiery fans. But no one can prevent me to shout and cheer with wild abandon, even when I am alone in the living room and the clock is ticking into the last quarter of the day when most neighbors are already snoring in their beds.
But for this rare Game 7 of the finals, my cheers and that usual panicky feeling was rather subdued, not because my two boys and their little sister were already sleeping (my wife would rather watch a teleserye than a basketball game for more than an hour), but because I felt relaxed with the Beermen leading the scores throughout the game, thwarting every rally the Gin Kings could muster on the crucial stretch. And halfway to the fourth quarter, I knew my team was a cinch to capture the PBA (Philippine Basketball Association) Fiesta Conference title.

I have been rooting this team since 1993, after the disbandment of Great Taste, an old favorite team of mine, and the eventual transfer of its streak-shooting franchise player Allan Caidic, my idol way back in my high school years, to the Beermen. But this time Caidic, was on the other side of the fence as Ginebra’s assistant coach. Yes, even with the transfer of Caidic to Ginebra in 1998, my loyalty remained with the Beermen and the talented crew now headed by Danny Ildefonso, Danny Seigle (in the injured list), and Olsen Racela.

With the Beermen leading by 8 points with a minute to go, I saw some Ginebra fans starting to negotiate their way out, hoping to leave before the balloons and confetti fall on the arena. I knew how they feel. I also had a painful experience at the big dome in 1998, when my favorite team was on the losing side of a Game 7 match.

It was an All-Filipino championship between the San Miguel Beermen and the Alaska Milkmen, then bannered by the formidable triumvirate of Bong Hawkins, Jojo Lastimosa and Johnny Abarientos. That was my first time to watch a championship live on the venue. I was so excited and hopeful that my favorite team will bounce back from its loss a game before. I was with two of my female officemates, both Beermen fanatics, who turned from demure office workers as if with the flick of a switch into shrieking unlady-like fans. In the final two minutes, I knew that the chance of our team for the title was already buried by an insurmountable lead of their opponent, and with Nelson Asaytono and the rest of the Beermen fumbling with the ball all the way into the crunch time. We decided to go out of the arena half a minute before the final buzzer, hoping to beat the onrush of fans exiting the venue at the same time. And lo and behold, we were joined by thousands of other SMB fans, in a funeral-like procession toward the exit, silent and sluggish, and exhaustion and disbelief imprinted on our long faces.

I fear of a repeat of that heartbreaking Game 7 loss with this present game between San Miguel and Ginebra. Thinking of a déjà vu made me go aarggh! And the number was not on our side, because prior to the season-ending Friday game, the Beermen had lost all their last four Game 7 matches in the finals, yes, including that defeat from the Alaska Milkmen in '98. And the last time the Beermen lost in the finals two years ago, it was on the hands of the same Ginebra team (sans their marquee player Mark Caguioa whol, like Seigle, was sidelined with injury).
But what I fear didn’t come to pass. Bilog ang bola, indeed, as one Ginebra ad would say! After a four-year title drought and heartbreaking losses, six semifinals and one finals, in between, the team finally captured the crown, the Beermen's first with Siot Tanquincen as head coach. It felt good, damn it, seeing Ildefonso and Racela again leading the victory whoops for the team.

Hoorah to the Beermen!

A BOXING FAN

I AM one of millions of Filipinos that up to this day relish every retelling of the victory of Manny Pacquiao in his much-vaunted fight with another boxing great Oscar de la Hoya early this month. It was a good fight, a very convincing TKO conquest by the Filipino punching machine. In my whole life of watching great fights in the ring, and those of Pacman’s latest exploits over other big-time Mexican sluggers, his last fight for me is one of the best one-sided fights of all time and it’s a good thing when you’re a Filipino and on the side of the victor.
  

I have been a boxing fan since my elementary days in Ilocos. And I thank my Apong Lakay (my maternal grandfather Angel Escobar Sr.) for this. That’s why even to this date when I think of amazing fights, or when I see people to their feet cheering with wild abandon for their warrior in the ring, I always think of my late Apong Lakay doing the same.

And if I make a list now of those special moments I spent with Apong Lakay, who died when I was a college freshman or years before Pacquiao entered professional boxing in 1995, it’s the ones we had together watching boxing, or even wrestling matches, on TV which seem to be the best for me. Maybe because I always enjoy watching physically competitive contests whether on TV screen or in the street. Or I should say I can only watch a boxing match on television and any TV show hours after that when Apong Lakay was then in command of a rich aunt’s black-and-white TV. He would know schedules of every live boxing match or some classic boxing matches on replays, as I would with schedules of my favorite action movies shown on TV. He would call any of my cousins (my aunt’s children), no matter what they were doing, to turn on the TV for him. Yes, during that time, our own TV was already sold by my father to a neighbor, and Apong Lakay’s house didn’t have one until his death. So the best venue then for a visual delight over a bakbakan (slugfest) would be in my rich aunt’s house.

Apong Lakay, who was good in arnis and mano-mano during his younger days, was so proud of our Filipino fighters, especially Flash Elorde and Pancho Villa. Perhaps he would feel the same, if not reserve the best now for Manny Pacquiao. He was also a big fan of Sugar Ray Leonard and Muhammad Ali. And with those years when Apong Lakay was alive, I was able to watch Ali or Leonard fight with their respective opponents in classic matches. I also watched other outstanding boxers in the 80s who have become legends of the sports—Marvin Haggler, Thomas Hearns, Roberto Duran, and Larry Holmes. Likewise I didn’t miss great fights of our local champs like Rolando Navarette, before his rape conviction in Hawaii, and Dodie Boy Peñalosa.

And now if Apong Lakay were alive today, he would have savored like his favorite steaming papaitan this latest fight of Manny Pacquiao. And I would have loved to have us exchange our own post-fight analysis, now that I have matured as a boxing fan through the years. But I could only imagine these things now.