That mean yellow machine

I do not mean to be killing the party but yesterday’s 115-31 drubbing by Team Pilipinas of a hapless Sri Lanka side should not make us all thrilled.

Was I happy? Yes, I am a Filipino too.

Thrilled? No.

Come on, guys. We all know that Sri Lanka team is not the kind of test that we needed. Any UAAP team will probably beat the Sri Lankans on any given night. Unless they challenge us to play cricket.

But a win is a win is win. I won’t take that away from Coach Yeng and his boys. They may have started jittery, but I’ll take the excuses.

But not tonight against Japan (played late last night at 9 pm). That is the real deal.

If the Philippines will have to serve notice of a chance of making it to the top three, they must (with emphasis) win against Japan. When you test the capability of your team, you must get the desired result right there when the test happens in actual competition.

I saw a tentative, erratic team at the start of the Sri Lanka game and that should not be the case in bigger games like Japan and Korea. We had spurts late in the game and when it turned into a wide open ballgame, we tried to do some fancy stuff.

Off went dunking Japeth Aguilar, Gabe Norwood and Asi Taulava. Fine. That’s for the highlight reels.

What I am worried about is our same old perennial weak spot—perimeter shooting. We went 29 percent beyond the arc, and although we shot over .500, most of those came on fastbreaks and second chance points.

Remember that shooting is the key for us to make it in this stage. Against the Chinese and Middle Eastern giants, our lanes will be clogged and the chance of making our plays inside would be like wrestling against the Undertaker. Top open it up, we got to shoot well from the outside. Tht is sorely missing against Sri Lanka.

Again, I understand, they didn’t need to or they couldn’t try it out. There was no honest defense.

With the bank doors opened defenseless, our boys could have robbed the bank dry, stash all the cash. But they blinked in some ways. Complacent on the other. I think they could have had more figures on that board.

I am looking for the hungry gameface. Menacing, cold assassins. Merciless mercenaries.

Not bungling ballerinas.
Come on, boys. Our nation may be rallied these days by the magic of yellow power. So strong is the mean yellow machine that it could launch another Aquino kin to the presidency in 2010. Maybe not Kris. Pardon the pun please, that would make Boy Abunda the FG as in First Gay and Vicky Belo the Health Secretary.

Maybe Noynoy. We’ll see about that in the coming days.

But for now, in this tournament, our boys just can’t turn yellow. That includes James Yap.

Don’t stop believing

The Philippines embark on another mission today in our quest to regain respect in the sport we are so crazy about, this time in Tianjin, China.

Brandishing our so-called best weapons yet from the pro ranks, we have come full circle in this quest that began in 1990 also in China when we first used professional basketball players to don our national colors. From Beijing to Tianjin, from the Jaworski-led squad to the Yeng Guiao-ocached team.

From second place to what?

That is the question.

Frankly, I am not honestly excited about our chances. But not being excited does not mean a state of hopelessness.

In Beijing, we had China to worry about. And then there were the Japanese and the Koreans too. But we knew then there was only China that separates us back to the prized respectability in Asia.

Today, there is Iran, Jordan, Lebanon. Teams that used to be so naïve about basketball. In fact, when we faced Kuwait in 1990, the Kuwaiti team couldn’t even buy the right basketball stuff. They ridiculously wore tennis shorts with pockets. Now, even Kuwait can give us a ridiculous scare.

There is also the traditional threats like Japan and Korea—teams who were as mechanical as robots before but as agile and fast as anyone now we are even converted into big fans of their Korea novelas with basketball plots. There is Kazakhstan too.

And yes, lest we forget, there is China.

In 1990, the top team goes to the worlds but we still missed out.

This year, the top three will advance to the worlds, but it looks like we only have a Chinaman’s chance of making it. Imagine the odds.

It will make for a great take off that we will meet Sri Lanka today, and we should be expected to win this one easily even by a margin of 50. That will depend on how merciless we can get even with the lowliest of the competition. Kobe Bryant wore the Black Mamba gameface at the start of the playoffs and you can read from his face that he will not let down his guards even if he is ahead by a hundred points.

We meet Japan tomorrow and that will be the first real test.

Now, are we ready for the opposition in Tianjin? For one, James Yap, our top gunner, is bleeding from the death of her mother-in-law President Cory and should be rusty and sleepless. All the energy probably sapped from the highly emotional loss. Will he be ready for war? Remember that the late President Cory reminded him before her death to honor his commitment to the flag no matter what happens. Will James be ready to fight for the country like her late Mom Cory?

The rest of the team may now have been well rested compared to the tired team we sent to the recent Jones Cup. They may be better and hopefully sharper now. Will they be ready to die for the country too?

Obviously, there are lots of questions. I can only imagine how hard it is to be a part of this team and to be up to the expectations of a country bleeding for redemption in the sport second only to politics in terms of popularity here. As a nation, we also have a duty for this team. It’s like a social contract. They play for the Filipino people, the Filipino people must support them in return.

We cannot choose our team. We cannot choose Kobe and Team USA to fight for us. These are our guys.

We can only give back one thing—our faith.

Don’t stop believing.

Gun-less Shooting

Don’t be fooled. She may be the busiest woman in the city these days but Acting Mayor Sara Duterte has time for sports.

She understands sports, and don’t dare her to engage in sports talk. You might be in for a big surprise.

Last Saturday afternoon, Sara opened the AFP-PNP 24th Kadayawan Invitational Cup basketball tournament in Bankerohan. It was not just her presence that inspired the participants. She pitched well to double the prize and then talked about how poor our National Team fared in the Jones Cup.

There are those who are into sports, for the sake of having a sports program. But the heart isn’t there.

Inday Sara is a different breed. She’s grounded. And you can’t fool her even with your craziest crossover. Not even Bong Go’s sweet-shooting hands.

Rarely will there be a tournament for men in the armed forces and all agencies engaged in security and peace-keeping. In short, all payers in this tournament are legally allowed to carry and fire guns. You have the policemen, SAF, Rangers, Air Force, SWATs and jailguards. All sorts of men in the firing line. It’s all in one league.

Now, when you put all these men together, you can only hope they won’t shoot each other. Rather, they just shoot baskets not bullets.

With a doubled pot, Inday Sara hopes it doesn’t get nasty. “Just play ball,” was her reminder.

Perhaps the only one team you can say is the least ‘dangerous’ is the City Mayor’s Office team. CMO players don’t brandish guns but they have the hottest pistolero this part of the West—Bong Go. He’s the Sheriff. He scores when he wants. Too good to leave open. You got to shackle him with handcuffs or throw a battalion of soldiers to silence him.

As it is though, this is but sports. Fierce it may seem to be competing against each other, the unwritten rule is ceasefire to unnecessary physical contacts. When push comes to shove, the refs are in control. No official of higher rank can influence-peddle the refs. The refs are the Generals.

In case it goes haywire, call Inday Sara.

Don’t be a bad soldier. Just play. This gun-less game’s for you.

11,000 stories

On May 26, 1974, a total 767 runners answered the starting gun of the very first Milo marathon. Only 200 crossed the finish line. That was the very first Milo story recorded.

On Sunday, add another 11,000 more.

With more than eleven thousand people taking part in last Sunday’s Milo regional eliminations here, there are 11,000 or so stories more to tell about the experience.

Two stories may be on top of it. Those stories belong to the big winners in men’s champ Joselito Dugos and women’s titlist Judelyn Miranda who both recorded history by winning their first ever Davao City titles of this prestigious footrace.

Joselito, the Criminology senior from Holy Cross of Davao, buried memories of a tragic Christmas with his first taste of victory. Judelyn, a petite, pretty girl from Tagum City, also buried the curse of a string of bridesmaid finishes. This time, she finished as the bride on that July morning date that served as her successful comeback to the running mainstream.

But those are but the stories of the cake’s icing top.

There are many others and I couldn’t help but tell a few. Thanks to the warm accommodation of Milo Events Coordinator for SouthMin region, Ceril Rose Ortuoste, I had a great time meeting old friends and recollecting the storied races of the past.

I once ran a Milo race, a 3-K event for the media when I was 30 pounds lighter. At least in a man’s lifetime, you must run one marathon. I would not count out doing it again in the future, 30 pounds lighter or otherwise.

This year’s 11,000 cast was simply amazing in the words of Milo’s sports events coordinator Pat Goc-ong. I believe so. The field would have swelled to 15,000 easily but that would be harder to manage. Even then, the sellout crowd was efficiently managed by the heir to the late legendary race coordinator Vic Sai—his son Kenneth.

Kenneth did a great job and I doff my hat to the guy. Of course, same goes to his lovely wife Honey, too. Kenneth’s rise from a being simply his father’s son to becoming a son the father wanted him to be was a dream paved by this Milo tradition. Father Vic must be smiling up there in heavens.

Pat Goc-ong says they need to start scouting a new venue for the race if this is the rate it grows. Now, that’s the job for Kenneth and Ceril Rose to find.

I met an old friend Ron delos Reyes in the race too. Ron is the host of a television motoring show and originally, the Milo race coordinator way, way back the times of former champions Jimmy dela Torre and Wilfredo Ballester. Ron ran the 10-K last Sunday “because it just happened (he) was here.” He wore the 33rd edition Milo shirt and then emerged from the race less than an hour after already refreshed and wearing a retro 20th edition singlet.

I remember the 20th edition was won by Cebu sensation Roy Vence who had six Milo titles to his name—the most by any champion thus far.

Milo’s rich history book saw different stories your Lolo will probably tell stories of.

Numeriano Titong, a golf caddy became the first Milo marathon champion. He clocked a slow three hours, 4 minutes and 10 seconds, not bad for a first championship. 31 years later he ran again in the 29th Milo marathon in 2005.

Today, that clocking is much slower than the women’s record. Jho-an Banayag holds the women's fastest running time when she clocked in 02h48m16s in 2007.

In the men’s side, Eduardo Buenavista clocked in 02h18m53s during the 2007 Metro Manila eliminations breaking the fastest running record of 02h21m33s set by Cresenciano Sabal in 2005.

I fired the starting gun last Sunday at the break of day at Rizal Park. As the sea of green ran past by me, I saw nothing but green in minutes. It went by like storybooks in motion. Each individual with a story of his own. This was my own story too—all told in the bark of gun. Imagine, the race that was now part of history, started at the flick of my finger.