The Write Stuff

As my fascination for baseball and the New York Yankees grew and intensified during my younger years, a couple of books that I sought out was the much-acclaimed Summer of ’49 and October 1964 both written by David Halberstam. The former chronicled the year when the Yankees and the Boston Red Sox were engaged in a heated pennant race highlighted by the incredible year that Joe DiMaggio and Ted Williams had. There were anecdotes about Jackie Robinson, Italian immigrants who used baseball as a way to integrate themselves into mainstream America, how radio was such a big part of turning men into gods, and how television’s infancy told of a high-tech future to come. The latter was about the last hurrah of Mickey Mantle’s Yankees and an era of sustained greatness as they fell to the St. Louis Cardinals in the World Series and into the abyss of losing and mediocrity.

I knew I had a good book in my hands as I stayed riveted to my seat and paused only to eat and heed nature’s call. What also fascinated me about David Halberstam’s writing was the meticulous recreation of the bygone eras that came alive for me. It was as if I had traveled back in time and had a front row seat to all the insider action. Halberstam’s prose was a unique mix of first-rate journalism and history.

His writing whetted my appetite for history as a school subject and as choice of reading material. Just when I thought that I knew and heard of every Michael Jordan tidbit out there, Halberstam came back with the even more well-researched tour de force Playing For Keeps that tracked the parallel growth of ESPN, the spread of American pop culture, and the globalization of the game that turned His Airness into the world’s first universal superstar. A truly amazing read.

David Halberstam’s style became a huge influence on my writing and my mania for research, historical facts, and empirical proof. His death the other day in a car accident in Menlo Park, California might have merited a small column or maybe nary a blip on most local sports fans’ radar screen, but it resonates deep inside the fan in me.

Thanks for the inspiration, Mr. Halberstam. You’ll be writing the good book up there.

o O o

As I got older, those Hardy Boys mystery books (I still have the original and complete hardbound set) gave way to Sports Illustrated. I used to buy them at the Rastro in Greenhills that was just about the only store that sold them. If I missed an issue, I’d save up on my allowance and go to Dau to buy at the PX Shops.

If Sportscenter popularized the highlight, Sports Illustrated brought us the “bonus” as its late and famed editor Andre Laguerre coined the magazine’s raison d’etre. It became all about context. It meant going beyond the stats and about using sports as a metaphor for life; a prism for the rush of excitement on the playing field and the solitude between those moments of winning and losing. And that style changed sports writing forever.

Well, for the most part, it’s no longer “FEU Tamaraws gore NU Bulldogs.” It’s – “The FEU Tamaraws proved that they were far from being extinct in Season 69 of the UAAP as they reached in deep inside for that end game poise and game swagger that saw them through consecutive Finals appearances. Yadda yadda yadda.” That gore stuff is for the pedestrian.

I’ll say that David Halberstam is one of the three best baseball writers in my honest opinion; the others being Roger Kahn and Tom Verducci. Jack McCallum, Michael Lewis, and Rick Reilly are also huge influences. There were other non-sports writers I followed: Marc Spitz (the music writer not the swimmer), Nick Hornby, Cameron Crowe, Stephen Ambrose, Timothy Zahn, Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, and Peter David to name a few.

As for local papers, I read everybody… Joaquin Henson, Henry Liao, Al Mendoza, Recah Trinidad, Ding Marcelo, (my editor) Jun Lumibao, and Rhea Navarro to name a few. And man, I loved collecting those old Atlas Sports Weekly Magazines.

o O o

Here are some other sports books I’d like to recommend:
Moneyball by Michael Lewis
Pele by Pele
The Life of Reilly by Rick Reilly
A Season On the Brink by John Feinstein
Unfinished Business by Jack McCallum
The Jordan Rules & The Second Coming by Sam Smith
The Breaks of the Game by David Halberstam


o O o

Random thoughts:
- Funny how instead of getting to the bottom of the problem, some officials are conducting a witch-hunt to determine who spilled the beans. Where there’s smoke there’s fire. I’m feeling you, PhilJax. A Ninoy Aquino gets you that the official stays put.

- It’s not quite Remember the Titans, but We Are Marshall is good.

- Alex Rodriguez may be off to one of the greatest individual starts in Major League Baseball history but if you ask me, whether the Yanks recover from their early season woes to win the World Series, this will be his last year in pinstripes.

- If you missed the racism in football special feature in ESPN before the start of the last World Cup, go to youtube and look up European Racism in Football. Having experienced racism first-hand, it just makes my blood boil.

16 Men Out

The Ateneo Men’s baseball team was expected to compete for the UAAP title last season and early on, they ran roughshod over the competition. But still, I wondered how long they could keep it up knowing that the team had many unresolved issues from within. And to the horror and shock of many, the Blue Batters crashed and burned in the second round. It was an inglorious end when Ateneo’s victories were overturned, their semis slot disqualified, and their star rookie Justin Zialcita declared ineligible for failure to submit the Alien Certificate of Registration in time. Although Zialcita spent a few years in the US, he’s been living here for a long time and matriculated at Southridge. Other quarters tried to twist Zialcita’s case as one of fielding an ineligible player and demanded a suspension. That wasn’t too smart of those who wanted to compare the fate of their school with my alma mater’s. Apples and oranges, folks. You can put aside your prejudices and look at the facts of the matter.

The casualty of this all wasn’t simply a lost opportunity for the title but a team in disarray. Their coach, while one of the local game’s best, lost his team’s trust because of his frequent absences during off-season training and his questionable game decisions that told heavily on their morale and confidence. In fact, during a shellacking by eventual champion UST in their second round tiff, the coach sat down in the middle of the game and turned the reins over to an assistant. With the season done, the Blue Batters expressed difficulty in still playing for the coach given all that had happened. Now the coaching position is vacant yet there is still much confusion in the program. The logical selection for the team’s new coach would be baseball great Randy Dizer who has been handling the Ateneo’s high school and elementary teams that have been winning in their age level and who has overseen the development of many of the current seniors players.

However, someone in the school’s athletic department is said to be preventing the selection of Dizer, pitting players against one another and making the team look like a bunch of spoiled malcontents. This official even asked the players what they would like to do about their program head (fermenting dissent, isn’t he?). He has met with the team members individually after which he twisted much of their thoughts and feelings. As a result, some players have expressed notions about sitting out the next campaign. “I went here to study and play baseball,” said one team veteran. “Not to be in the middle of all this politicking.”

Incidentally, it was this official’s job to put Zialcita’s papers in order. What he stands to gain from all of this escapes me.

Wait, it has just gotten uglier. This official has been meddling in the Athletic Council and other varsity teams. The latest victim of his nefarious intercessions is the swimming team’s coach who has worked wonders in turning the former underachieving team into a rising power. The men’s and women’s teams have placed admirably well in the last two seasons but after this official’s undermining the coach and his position, the program is in a state of discord.

And oh yeah, the swim coach has just tendered his irrevocable resignation.

What I don’t really get is that the school knows that some coaches or officials under perform (a bleeping understatement) but they still stick to them. Of course, it’s a collegiate league, not the pro ranks where it’s more cutthroat. But the worst thing one can do is sit on the malaise and let it spread like some disease. The funny thing is some officials privately felt that the volleyball squad needed a coaching change but didn’t do anything. They had to wait until the incumbent one left and when the team floundered this past Season 69, it was expressed that it was the residue of bad coaching and poor training over the past few years. Geez, Louise!

Now if this happened to the basketball program, that person would have been booted out post haste. Not that he could get anywhere close to that program (as well as football’s) if he wished because it’s so well guarded against outside interference.

And the baseball team’s concern is that we’re seeing a repeat of what happened to the swimming team. The school has won a couple of baseball and softball titles but for the longest time it was the UAAP’s doormat. With a solid homegrown program in place, the game has grown steadily popular in Loyola Heights. In fact, the same can be said for Ateneo’s other sports programs. Time was they’d lose many a potential recruit or even players to grades, lack of funds, and a fear of playing for a losing team. Now the school and its teams have become a desirable destination of many athletes.

If I have written about other schools in my column or elsewhere, I am not going to stand pat when it’s my alma mater. In fact, I’ll even come down harder on Ateneo. That’s not what they taught me when I marched, got shot at, and was harassed during those dangerous years after Ninoy Aquino was assassinated. Make no mistake, I love my school and am a third generation Atenean.

Politics and intrigue is something no one can entirely eradicate. I read somewhere that it is in man’s nature to destroy one self. Nevertheless, it’s time to cut the crap and get things in order. We do not need this on our way to the Sesquicentennial.

It’s unfortunate that the 16 men of the baseball team were called out on account of a violation. Let’s make sure that the program doesn’t go down too on strikes. More so when it’s coming from a cancer from within.

Why did the chicken cross the road?

According to:

Oscar de La Hoya, boxer, president of Golden Boy Promotions
It can’t do that! We already signed a contract with the chicken. We’ll sue!

Bob Arum, boxing promoter
The chicken got the best deal in town and it will become even more famous under my watch.

Freddie Roach, boxing trainer
The chicken has been in Manny Pacquiao’s corner for his last 12 fights. So it is only logical to cross the road to be once more by Manny’s side. But the chicken had to ask permission from Oscar de la Hoya to cross the road.

Erik Morales, former World Boxing Champion
Wala siyang katulad kaya nag-cross siya ng road.

Manny Pacquiao, Filipino Global Icon
Pap pa rap pap pap.

Bong Obero, boxing promoter
The chicken crossed the road because it needed to feed its family. And the people on the other side of the road need our chickens to pad their records.

Eric Buhain, GAB chairman
We believe the chicken crossed the road without a license. We intend to ask the NBI to investigate this and we will open it up in every boxing convention that we attend.

Atty. Rudy Salud, distinguished boxing personality
All GAB should do is know how many commissions there are and know the head man of each group and work out an agreement that will put a stop to unlicensed chickens from crossing the road.

Joakim Noah, player, two-time NCAA champion Florida Gators
The chicken stands for something. It’s not all about making money. It’s about winning championships and making history.

Kevin Durant, US College Player of the Year
I think the chicken enjoyed its stay on its side of the road and now it’s ready to cross the other side to join the draft.

Greg Oden, center, Ohio State Buckeyes
The chicken is not entering the NBA. Next question please.

Barry Bonds, player, San Francisco Giants
I think you have to be proud of that chicken. It’s 42 years old and it still crossed the road to chase Hank Aaron’s record. Now don’t give that chicken an asterisk for trying.

Hank Aaron, holder of Major League Baseball’s home-run record
I don’t think I’m going to cross the road to cheer that record-hunting chicken. I’m perfectly happy where I am.

Virginia Congressman Tom Davis, chairman of baseball committee on steroids scandal
We subpoenaed the chicken on suspicion of using steroids. Hopefully, the chicken can shed light on this so we can clean up the sport of baseball.

Michael Rains, Barry Bonds’s lawyer
I think there is an effort to indict that chicken.

Phil Jackson, Los Angeles Lakers coach
I think there’s a witch hunt being conducted on that chicken.

Kobe Bryant, star player for Los Angeles Lakers
Well, they better not piss off that chicken coz it’s going to score 60 points on you.

David Beckham, former Real Madrid midfielder
The chicken has 250 million reasons why it crossed the road.

Fabio Cappelo, Real Madrid coach and manager
We wanted the chicken to stay. We had big plans for it. Since it decided to cross the road, we benched it until the end of its contract with us.

Ramon Calderon, Real Madrid president
The other side of the road isn’t as good as our side. It’s the chicken’s loss. Not ours.

Barros Schelotto, Boca Juniors player transferring to MLS Columbus Crew
The chicken needed a change of air.

Cuauhtemoc Blanco, Mexican football player who transferred from Club America to the Chicago Fire in the MLS
That chicken is one bad boy for crossing the road.

Charles Barkley, NBA all-time great & TNT basketball analyst
Did you see the chicken cross the road? Man, it was old and slow. No way should that chicken referee in the NBA in that condition. If it insists, then I challenge it to a race during the All-Star Game. I’ll bet you I won’t even work up a sweat. When it’s over, the chicken’s tombstone will read, “Keeled over racing the Chuckster.”

Dick Bavetta, NBA referee
That old chicken crossed the road for old people’s rights!

Leo Oracion, first Filipino to summit Mt. Everest
The chicken crossed because the road was there.

Chris Webber, forward, Detroit Pistons via Philadelphia
It was a no-brainer for that chicken to cross the road. It was to win a championship. It needs to win a championship.

Vince Carter, forward New Jersey Nets
I had no idea that the chicken was talking to its agent about opting out of its contract. I believe the chicken is happy on its side of the road.

Basketball Association of the Philippines
If that chicken did cross the road then we’re going to fire it.

Sen. Jinggoy Estrada, former BAP President
The chicken crossed to put an end to the disunity in basketball and so the Philippines could compete once more in international competitions.

Patrick Baumann, Fiba president
If that chicken doesn’t know which side of the road it should be then we will suspend it from all competitions.

Congratulations to our manok Manny Pacquiao for beating Jorge Solis. It wasn’t as exciting as the last two Pacquiao-Morales fights, but credit Solis for taking the fight to Manny.

Check out my nonsports blog at http://1125pages.blogspot.com.

The Rites of Spring & Fall

Last Tuesday evening, my mobile phone rang. “Call” the phone simply read meaning it was from overseas. It was my friend Sam who incredibly was calling from Yankee Stadium for the season opener. The new baseball season was starting. “Where you at, dog? It’s opening night and it’s the last at the House That Ruth Built before it moves across the street to the House That Taxpayers Built.”

I laughed but could hardly understand him for it gets real noisy up in the stands. Sam’s funny. He defies the stereotype. He’s a Christian from Cairo, Egypt, who moved Stateside a decade ago and developed an affinity for baseball. Plus he speaks with a Brooklyn accent after hanging out with all the Italian guys in the neighborhood. And baseball is what got us talking.

Take me out to the ballgame for the annual rites of spring have begun. And baseball is back. It has brought a spring into my tired sporting soul that refuses the already maddening intake of Pacquiao stories and the dog days on a long NBA season. Thank God for the NCAA Finals (too bad Ohio State lost) and the upcoming NBA Play-offs.

Before you react and say, “Those damn Yankees!” Let me try to explain something about New York and the world famous baseball team and its effect on man.

When America emerged a superpower from World War II, New York City became by default, the center of the globe. And right in the middle of that massive cultural and socio-economic change was the grand old game… baseball. And when you talk about the sport, there’s one team that has come to define the sport and cross borders – the New York Yankees.

Since 1903, the Yankees have accounted for 26 World Series titles and 39 pennants. Other teams like the Giants, the Dodgers, and later on, the Mets have had their share of the pie as well, but this is Yankee town no matter what anyone says. More than the Knicks or even the Rangers. Why the famous interlocking “NY” can be found on blazers, caps and jackets just about anywhere in the world? Whereas if you say “Met,” you have to clarify if it’s the Metropolitan Museum or that team that plays in Shea Stadium. This is not to denigrate the Mets (after all, they did foil the Boston Red Sox’s bid in ’86), but quite simply, the Yanks have transcended cultural barriers in more ways than one more than any other team since the Chicago Bulls of the 1990’s.

While New Yorkers take the success of their teams in stride (after all, life in the Big Apple is frenetic enough as it is), it doesn’t mean that they are no less intense or fanatic. While the real theater can be found in the stages of Broadway, Radio City, 42nd Street, the Lincoln Center or Madison Square Garden (where boxing matches, basketball games, hockey games, concerts, heck, even the greatest show on earth – Barnum & Bailey’s Circus -- play all year round), news and gossip about the team in pinstripes are in daily chatter fare. You see, while other teams are just happy to finish .500 or even make the play-offs, in New York, the Yanks not having won a World Series since 2000 despite making it to the play-offs every year since, is construed as a disaster. So it is never casual or faddish to root for the Bronx Bombers. If for some, it’s “we’ll just get them next year;” in New York, it ain’t necessarily so. It takes an entirely different mindset to always be the best and uphold a standard of excellence. There is nothing wrong with wanting to compete or to win (I’m sure that teams wish they had George Steinbrenner’s money). After all, if one is just angling to hover around .500 then they’re doing everyone a disservice.

If you figure that New Yorkers are arrogant because of this, they would surely digress. New Yorkers do not think their city is the most important one; they take for granted that it is. Things outside New York not that important? Maybe it doesn’t matter given all that happens to the city on a daily basis. And if New Yorkers don’t compare themselves to anyone or anything else, it’s because they don’t think there is anything else comparable.

Such is the New York attitude. Maybe that’s why Osama Bin Laden thought to make the city more than any other, save perhaps the nation’s capital, the object of his wrath.

New Yorkers demand excellence. Nothing more, nothing less. And the Yankees doing well is simply business as usual. There is pressure in playing in New York, not just in pinstripes – from the scrutiny of management to the judgment of media and fans; it’s like living in a giant fishbowl under the spotlight. Like the song says, if you can make there, you can make it anywhere. In his autobiography, Me and My Dad, former Yankee outfielder Paul O’Neill wrote of his trade from his hometown Reds to the Yankees: For the ultimate optimist, my announcement that I was no longer a Cincinnati Red but was being traded to the New York Yankees was regarded as one big party. The rest of us were all in tears, and my father was celebrating. “Paul,” he exclaimed, “this is going to be the best thing that ever happened to you.” He added that while Riverfront Stadium was wonderful; the House That Ruth Built was rocking every single night. And this was way before the Joe Torre era began.

Such is playing in New York if not the Yankees. Even the great Michael Jordan did muse to himself: “Although it would have been hard to play for another coach, I always wondered how it would have been to play in New York. I would have seriously considered playing for the Knicks during the 1998-99 season if I were single. New York fans appreciate good players and I always enjoyed playing in Madison Square Garden."

New York is home to two pro basketball teams, the Knicks and the Nets. There are two pro football teams in the Giants and the Jets. The Rangers, the Islanders and the Devils are the pro hockey teams while the Yanks and the Mets round out the reps for the fourth of the major sports leagues. And we haven’t even talked about the Brooklyn Cyclones or even the Staten Island Yankees. Or even the Red Storm.

Ironically, in a city of 12 million, there is room enough for everyone. When the Yankees were bushwhacked by their cross-town rivals the Mets to clinch the season series in 2004, I never heard the end of this from my friends and co-workers on 86th and Lex (and this is in the Upper East, a twenty-minute 4 train ride away to the Bronx) who were all Mets fans. In Elmhurst, Queens, home to a predominantly Indian, Korean, Hispanic and Filipino community, you’d think that you were in the Bronx the way pinstripes litter the neighborhood.

When the Yankees lost to the Red Sox in the 2004 ALCS, it was painful and humiliating. But like New Yorkers after 9-11, the Yankees will surely arise from the ashes. After all, it’s a New York state of mind. And Sam, you old dog, I’ll be seeing you soon.

Check out my non-sports blog at http://1125pages.blogspot.com/. First one’s about my trip to Corregidor.

The Legend of Billy Ray Bates

In two weeks’ time, several Korean coaches will be coming over to the Philippines to personally scout the imports plying their wares in the ongoing Fiesta Conference Cup. The Korean Basketball League (KBL) will soon be returning to action.

Obviously we’ve come a long way that our neighbors know there’s quality hoops being played in this corner of Southeast Asia.

While we have some pretty good imports playing right now, gone are the days when these roundball mercs were larger than life figures whose prodigious presence and scoring feats could alter a team’s fortunes.

The world has caught up to the Americans in basketball and has knocked them down a peg or two. Even without our current predilection for Fil-foreigners, the quality of the Philippine game has gone up. All of a sudden we have locals who can match-up quite well with imports.

For their winning record and contributions, Norman Black, Bobby Parks, and Sean Chambers will arguably go down as the best three ever. But in terms of fewer conferences played, I’d give the nod to Billy Ray Bates. He played in four conferences and won three titles in his first three – the first two with Crispa and the last with Ginebra.

In his final conference, he teamed up with Kevin Gamble for four games before they were replaced (by Jumpin’ Joe War and Tommy Davis) as the crowd favorites tumbled to a mediocre record. Gamble’s being cut served him well for he soon worked himself to better basketball shape as he found himself playing for the Boston Celtics on a team that had their Big Three of LarryKevinRobert and eventually starting.

As for Bates, he soon wandered from Switzerland to Mexico and to the now-defunct World Basketball League. The man known as “Dunk” who thrilled Portland Trailblazer fans in the early 1980’s with his manic scoring sprees and aerial exploits slid into the depths of drugs and alcoholism.

When Portland made former Blazer Jerome Kersey its Director for Player Programs in 2005, a position designed to help rookies assimilate themselves into the NBA spotlight where fame and fortune have their pitfalls, Billy Ray Bates was used as a prime example of people who were totally unprepared for NBA life. For a man who should have served notice that dreams can come true when he made the regular line-up after being signed to a 10-day contract in 1980, his name, when mentioned is followed by a shake of the head and the words, “what a waste.”

In two memorable play-off seasons, Bates strapped to his back a Blazers team reeling from the loss of Bill Walton to various foot injuries to pace a team that still had Tom Owens, Ron Brewer, Maurice Lucas, Kermit Washington, and Jim Paxson. During the 1980 Western Conference first round battle with Seattle, Bates averaged 25 points per game against the Supersonics of the late Dennis Johnson, Jack Sikma, Gus Williams, Paul Silas, and Vinnie Johnson in his pre-Microwave days.

In first round action once more in 1981 against Kansas City, Dunk scored 28.3 in three outings against the Kings that had the high-scoring Otis Birdsong (who was here recently during the Bad Boy Tour), Scott Wedman (who parlayed his scoring days into a Boston Celtics contract years later), an aging UNC Tar Heel great Phil Ford, and later New York Knicks' GM Ernie Grunfeld.

Bates would play one more year in Portland before he was released for substance abuse. He would latch on to a pair of 10-day contracts in the 1982-83 season with the Washington Bullets and the Los Angeles Lakers before he would be out of the League permanently.

He would resurrect his career here in the Philippines with the famed Crispa Redmanizers and come back a couple of years later to team up with the high-scoring Michael Hackett to give Sonny Jaworski his first title as player-coach in the 1986 Open Conference.

Ginebra paced the league in that conference but found a tough foe in the Manila Beer squad that had Yoyoy Villamin, Abet Guidaben, and Atoy Co and imports Harold Keeling and former University of Houston Cougar and Phi Slamma Jamma alum Michael Young.

I remember during game one of the title series, all seemed lost for Ginebra as it seemed that Manila Beer had their number. But in the final minutes, a spirited rally by Ginebra saw them with a chance to pull out a win. And in the game’s final play, Billy Ray Bates hauled down Michael Young’s missed shot and went coast-to-coast with only Abet Guidaben standing in his path and an improbable victory. Bates, elevated and in his own words, “went for the moon to dunk over Guidaben” for a game-winning slam.

Ginebra would go on to win that series in five games and Bates proclaimed, “If you want to win a championship, who are you gonna call? Superman.”

But as ever, the kid from a poor farming community in Mississippi couldn’t handle the rewards of his tremendous basketball skills. He was plagued by demons in bottles and cocaine pipes. Bates would hit rock bottom when he robbed a Texaco gas station in Camden, New Jersey in 1998 and slashed the station attendant’s ear with a knife. He was caught by responding police not far from the incident and would be incarcerated in a New Jersey jail for seven years for stealing the princely sum of five dollars.

Bates was released last year and is said to now work as a janitor somewhere in the East Coast where he -- although now clean and sober -- still harbors dreams of rescuing his beloved Portland Trailblazers.

He went for the moon and came down with shattered dreams.

Thanks for the memories Billy Ray.

Our Survey Said

It’s time to play that famous game of Family Feud and feud is right. So let’s ask our friend Richard Dawson to lend us a hand here with the top answers on the board:

The Top 10 excuses for cheating in sports:
1. Everyone does it so why can’t we?
2. We didn’t know they were over-aged!
3. Goddamn alumni boosters!
4. We needed a championship to boost our image.
5. We need our alumni to give more money.
6. I wanted my younger brother’s team to advance to so I’ll throw a game.
7. Because our athletes are not too smart to go to class.
8. We bet a lot of money.
9. We thought we’d never get caught.
10. Winning is everything.

Why you shouldn’t rain on Kobe Bryant’s parade:
1. He’ll drop 60 points on your team.
2. He’ll buy his wife a diamond ring. Did you watch Blood Diamond?
3. You’ll be accused of instigating a witch hunt.
4. You’re probably in the minority. His #24 j is the number one selling jersey in the USA and China.
5. You’ll get a forearm shiver to your windpipe.

The top seven denials in sports:
1. It wasn’t rape. She consented to it.
2. I didn’t know it was drugs, man.
3. The media misquoted me. They took it out of context.
4. Damn referees.
5. It was the coach’s fault.
6. It was the player’s fault.
7. The better team lost.

Reasons why sports will never fully develop in the country:
1. Most sponsors would rather spend on the PBA, UAAP, or Manny Pacquiao.
2. The only inclination to sports by people who allocate money for sponsorship is running a treadmill or playing badminton.
3. We don’t have a strong grassroots program.
4. Like education, sports is not on our country’s radar.
5. Our sports officials are better equipped than the athletes.

Why Dennis Rodman will make the Hall of Fame before Ron Artest:
1. His teams – Detroit & Chicago – beat some pretty good teams: Los Angeles, Portland, Seattle, and Utah. Ron Artest beat on fans at the Palace.
2. Dennis was the first to wear #91. Ron was second.
3. For all of Dennis’ distractions, the teams he played for got better (although the Admiral will dispute that). Ron’s teams spiraled out of control.
4. Dennis won five NBA titles, a bunch of rebounding titles, the Sixth Man of he Year Award with Detroit. Ron won a one-way ticket out of Indiana.

Most incredible Pinoy sports ironies:
1. Jojo Lastimosa who used to be so vocal about the proliferation of Fil-foreigners in the PBA was an assistant coach for Alaska at time when it was predominantly stacked with Fil-Ams (I think only two weren’t of foreign descent).
2. Sta. Lucia proclaiming themselves as wholly homegrown then drafting Alex Cabagnot and Kelly Williams in succession.
3. Our 1996 Olympic delegation featured six athletes including Onyok Velasco and Toni Leviste among others. The number of officials and tag-alongs was more than triple.
4. Every time we compete in an international sports event like the Asian Games there’s some issue about funding, lack of uniforms, lack of preparation, and then some politico calls for an investigation of which nothing ever comes out.

Why the old Ginebra San Miguel team of the Big J will kick the tail out of the current squad on any given day:
1. They were put together by spit, blood, and Jaworski pride (my ode to the late great Pinggoy Pengson).
2. They were never beaten badly by their foes. They had the Destroyer and the Big J to beat ‘em up, the Scholar to outwit ‘em, the original Dynamite and Mama, and the Magic Man.
3. They were the one true peoples’ team.
4. They had better imports: Billy Ray Bates, Michael Hackett, Jamie Waller, Jumpin’ Joe Ward, Wes Matthews, Carlos Briggs, and a guy named Jervin Cole.
5. They were the masters of the cardiac finish.

And on a non-sports note, my top reasons why I am not going to vote and why I am getting out of the country:
1. There’s no one to vote for.
2. What for when nothing has changed?
3. Balimbing is the National Fruit.
4. Where does my tax money go? To some politico who says that this road-widening project is a service of his office? To his re-election campaign?
5. No matter who wins, the other party will always say that they were cheated out of victory.

* * *
For a dear person:
God bless and rest the soul of the late PBA and NCAA Commissioner Jun Bernardino. He became a good friend over the last two years. Thanks for being a friend and a mentor of sorts. I’ll miss those long days of kwentuhan about sports. He was one of four people (including my editor Jun Lomibao, my boss Jude Turcuato, and my NCAA source) I sought for advice regarding the current PCU eligibility scandal before breaking it out in the open. Thanks so much for your advice, friendship, and support. See ya in the Big Stadium in the Sky.

The Boo-tiful Game

Sepp Blatter, FIFA’s President likes to talk about the healing power of football. Joga bonito, as it is nicknamed. The beautiful game. But whether a reflection of the times, football -- the world game -- has become increasingly violent.

In the other day’s elimination match between Valencia and Inter Milan, a melee broke out after full time; one that went on for more than five minutes and spilled all the way to the locker room. In the knockout match between Olympique Lyonaisse and AS Roma, the French team’s Brazilian forward Fred threw a nasty elbow at the Italian team’s defender Cristian Chivu that opened up his nose like a spigot. The television analyst spent an annoying several minutes muttering what coward Fred was for his actions.

What makes football such a passionate game is how it is a reflection of life and the battle for turf. To score a goal is a difficult enough task that is why when the ball meets the back of the net, the celebration is rapturous and filled with emotion. By the same token, one of life’s basic tenets is life is unfair and difficult so even the tiniest of victories or good fortune is enough cause for celebration.

Pitched battles
The FIFA World Cup is one of the most intensely viewed and followed sporting spectacles; more so than the Olympics that tends to feature sports that are either slanted towards certain countries or are just plain unwatchable. On the pitch, no one is any one favorite. Even the best of the best, the Boys from Brasil can get upset on any given day. When it comes to national teams, it’s war. Literally.

The Soccer War, as the six-day battle between neighboring Honduras and El Salvador was known, had long term repercussions not just for the countries that butted heads but also for the whole region. Both Honduras and El Salvador already had strained relations owing to immigration and political unrest. After their national teams scored a win apiece against each other, they faced each other in a tiebreaker in Mexico to go to the 1970 World Cup. On June 27, 1969, El Salvador nipped Honduras 3-2 in extra time to advance. By the game’s end, there was rioting in the stands between followers of both teams. The melee degenerated into a full-scale shooting war when the Salvadoran Army invaded two weeks later. A ceasefire was put in effect but not until there were some 2,000 dead on each side. The war suspended the Central American Common Market, the equivalent of the European Economic Union and succeeding military junta rule in El Salvador drove the country to a civil war.

In May of 1990, Red Star Belgrade, already the winner of the Yugoslav football league by aggregate score, traveled to Maksimir Stadium in Zagreb, Croatia to play a meaningless final match against host team Dinamo Zagreb.

Prior to the match, there were street skirmishes between supporters of the two clubs. And right before kick-off, Serbian fans of Red Star Belgrade provoked the Croatian crowd with nationalist slogans such as “Zagreb is Serbian” and “Death to Tudjman,” reference to the newly elected pro-independence President of Croatia. When the Serbs began to destroy the stadium and throw rocks at the Croats, a fight ensued. Unfortunately for the home side, the Serb-controlled Yugoslav police didn’t lift a finger to prevent the Red Star hooligans from instigating the violence. When the Red Star fans began attacking with knives, it became too much for the Croats to swallow so they began to fight back. Only then did the police intervene but to everyone’s horror, they went to break up the Croats.

The Croats assaulted the police and then took back the stands from the Serbs in a battle that lasted for over an hour. Dinamo’s Zvonimir Boban who would captain Croatia’s World Cup side in France in 1998, became a folk hero when he kicked a policeman who was beating a fallen Dinamo fan. Boban became an icon in the struggle for independence.

The game was never played but it would go down in history as the start of the Great Patriotic War that saw the disintegration of the Balkan country of Yugoslavia.

As former England captain Terry Butcher once said, “Off the pitch, I was always a mild-mannered ordinary bloke, but put me in a football shirt, it was tin hats and fixed bayonets. Death or glory.”

A red card for racism
Football is said to be a sport without borders, but in Europe that is supposedly more tolerant of racial mingling, there has been a rise in a number of incidents that have people wondering about the state of the game.

In match between Barcelona and Real Zaragoza at La Romareda in Zaragoza, the home side’s fans started money grunts to spite Barca’s Cameroonian forward Samuel Eto’o. As Eto’o threatened to walk off the pitch Zaragoza goalkeeper Cesar Sanchez angrily gestured to the crowd that his side also had black players.

In 2004, Luis Aragones, the coach of the Spanish National Team was filmed by a television crew trying to motivate striker Jose Antonio Reyes by making racist remarks about Reyes’ Arsenal teammate, Thierry Henry. Aragones said, “Show that black little shit that you are better than him.” The English media strongly protested Aragones’ words and actions, but instead Spanish officials were notoriously slow in denouncing the remarks. In a friendly match between Spain and England at the Santiago Bernabeau Stadium, Spanish fans taunted England’s black players particularly Ashley Cole and Shaun Wright-Philips every time they touched the ball. UEFA heavily fined the Spanish Football Federation and warned them that any further incidents will result in the suspension of international play on Spanish soil.

Lord Herman Ouseley is the chairman for Kick It Out, a campaign against racism in football. He has been working hard to get more Asians and blacks on European teams and to speak out against racism along with white football players. “It’s a long-term project in tackling racism in football. The way of tackling racism in football is about long-term educational work - with fan groups at the local level, with the organizations that represent the game and then getting all the groups to work together. We have worked hardest with the fan groups, I suppose. But we recognize the need for educational work at all levels of the game - working say with security staff, having plans in place to ban racists from grounds, making sure that those found guilty are fined. It means working with everyone from fans and officials to the players themselves. Some players, for example Ryan Giggs, go into schools on a regular basis to discuss issues of racism.”

Game, set, and match… for football
Prior to the start of the 2006 World Cup, Italians woke up to find out that their much-beloved Serie A was embroiled in one of the worst game fixing scandals in sports history. Top teams like Juventus, AC Milan, Lazio, and Fiorentina were found to have conspired to have favorable referees officiating their matches and rigging results. Juventus was not only stripped of its league titles from 2005 &06, but it was relegated to second division play and kicked out of UEFA play.

Incidentally, this wasn’t the first time Italy’s premier league was rocked by a game fixing scandal. The most recent was in 1980 when AC Milan and Lazio conspired to fix a game.
The scandal left widespread feelings of guilt and anger towards the owners, managers, players, referees, and league officials. Said one Italian football fan, “I don’t think I can ever watch another Serie A game again knowing that if something fishy is taking place.”

The relegation of Juventus, AC Milan inability to recover from its points reduction, the flight of many of the league’s top players to Spain, the stigma of the game fixing scandal, and most recently the suspension of games following the death of an Italian policeman during the rioting that took place during a derby between Palermo and Catania, have given a black eye to Italian football and placed their bid to host the Euro Championships in 2012 in jeopardy.

Attendance, particularly among family ticket holders, has dipped significantly that for the first time, the Bundesliga is actually drawing more fans.

In late September 2005, 11 Brasilian National Championship matches and as well as four second division derbies were ordered to be replayed in their entirety after two referees were caught fixing matches due to outside betting. Of the eleven replayed games, only two finished with their original outcome.

The price of losing
Prior to the liberation of Iraq from the yoke of Saddam Hussein, the country’s national sporting scene and football’s in particular was the personal playground of the dictator’s cruel and sadistic son, Uday. When the national team would lose, he would force players under gunpoint to kick concrete walls while barefoot until their feet were bloodied stumps. At times, he would throw them in solitary confinement and have them beaten with paddles. Sharar Haydar, a defender on the national team, was gaoled for a week after Iraq lost 2-nil to Jordan. Along with three other teammates, Haydar’s feet were beaten 20 times a day and was only fed with one glass of water and a slice of bread. Haydar fled the country in 1998.

In 2000, General Robert Guei, the leader of Ivory Coast’s ruling military junta, threw the entire football team into the brig for two full days after crashing out of the first round of the African Nations Cup. Guei took their mobile phones, wallets, passports, and publicly castigated them: “You should have spared us the shame!”
A great equalizer and a great hope
But it’s not all hate and the strife. There’s a reason why football is the global game and it is said to bring people together.

Football perhaps more than any other sport is life’s great equalizer. A goal can transcend generations and live on forever such as Diego Maradona’s weave through six England players en route to his second tally of the game during the
1986 World Cup in Mexico.

And any talk of the sport or even its greatest players will always have Edson Arantes do Nascimento or Pele to the world at large thrown into the picture.

Not bad for a pair of boys who born to extreme poverty. Their exploits have helped forge national identity and have given hope to many others to find their fame and fortune in a ball with a circumference of 28 inches and is filled with a network of pentagons and hexagons.

In war-ravaged Afghanistan, women long repressed by the deposed Taliban regime, have found a voice by now playing football.

In the Ivory Coast, the exploits of the Elephants – as the team is known -- on the pitch has done something the politicians cannot do: force people to lay down their arms and seek an end to the civil war that has wracked the country no end. The team, as led by Chelsea’s star striker Didier Drogba, has been a symbol of unity for this African country’s fractured peoples.

This former French colony’s military government has repressed its migrant population (that comes from neighboring Liberia, Ghana, and Guinea) and Muslim community that have caused much of the discontent in the country. But many of the team’s better players are from these oppressed minorities. So watching this team make quite a splash in the last World Cup united this West African country of 18 million people.

And for all the bad, there’s quite a silver lining in the horizon. The 2002 World Cup held jointly in Korea and Japan is a milestone in itself. The fact that Korea finally allowed a Japanese team onto its shores is a good sign for better relations between the two countries. Obviously, many haven’t forgiven Japan for its World War II atrocities. But still it does give one plenty of hope.

And who knows, maybe a few years from now, we just might see the World cup jointly hosted by Israel and Palestine. It could happen, you know.

The Kobe Rules

The worm has turned for Kobe Bryant. Far removed from his boy wonder days, he has become a perplexing basketball enigma. Now that’s an oxymoron if there was ever one.

Kobe Rule #1 Stats the Thing
Consider this: as a rookie, then-Lakers’ coach Del Harris in a game against the San Antonio Spurs, asked his precocious rookie to take a possible game winner. The rookie from Lower Merion High who was taken by the Lakers from the Charlotte Hornets in exchange for Vlade Divac threw up an airball as time expired leaving him beside himself. But Chick Hearn, the voice of the Lakers, gently encouraged Bryant and warned that he’d be taking many more of those shots – and making them – for years to come. Hearn never realized what an understatement that was. During the Purple Reign over the NBA in the early 2000s, Bryant was literally tugging on Superman’s --- Michael Jordan’s cape. The fact that he was the only player outside Jordan’s teammates in the Bulls to be mentioned prominently in his photo-autobiography For the Love of the Game shows what the King thought of Bryant’s and his potential. Under the tutelage of Jordan’s former coach in Chicago, Phil Jackson, Bryant soon developed into a nasty big time game scorer and closer not seen since His Airness abdicated from the throne.

Together with the Big Aristotle, they won three straight titles in LA. Showtime was back and so was Jack in his customary courtside seat. Not that he left, but he would made treks outside Forum in Inglewood and to the United Center to watch one of the greatest NBA dynasties unfold in those formative internationalist years of the NBA.

Somewhere along the way, Bryant’s mad skills and assassin’s heart gave way to more disparaging portraits of the man: petulant, self-centered, and maybe even worse, a second-rate Michael Jordan. The Washington Times called him the League’s #1 villain supplanting RashWEED Wallace. All of a sudden, it’s only Nike that has him for an endorser.

He feuded with his dad, Jellybean Bryant, made enemies of a very unforgiving Philadelphia crowd after he said he’d cut out the hearts of Philadelphians everywhere when they met during the 2001 NBA Finals, and authored the break-up of the Lakers’ new millennium dynasty. There’s Eagle County, Colorado where Kobe will probably never get an All-star vote and there’s the last All-Star Game in Las Vegas where he engaged LeBron James in a shoot-out with an eye for the MVP Award much to his detractors’ chagrin.

After the Manu Ginobili, Mike Miller, and Kyle Korver incidents where he fouled them rather hard, word is the League is watching Bryant even more closely and any further allegedly flagrant fouls of this kind will mean multiple game suspensions.

Kobe Rule #2 Be the Best You Can Be
And after a recent loss to the Washington Wizards on the road, Bryant angrily confronted teammate Lamar Odom over a questionable decision in the game’s dying seconds. Guess that’s what losing does. After a game against the Seattle Supersonics, Bryant blocked Sonics counterpart Ray Allen’s lay-up attempt. Instead of picking up the loose ball, Bryant stared down Allen – a personal showdown between the two 1996 draftees. Looking the gift horse in the mouth, Sonics’ guard Luke Ridenour feed the rock to Rashard Lewis for a big time slam. "He thinks -- in his mind -- that he's going to shoot and try to show me up at any point in time on the floor," Allen said. "But his mentality and mine are different. I've got to do what it takes to help the team win."

Michael Jordan casts a very long shadow on the NBA. Clearly the League has moved on, but just as people used to compare hoops feats as Chamberlain-like, they’re now Jordanesque. Didn’t he get the loudest ovation during the All-Star Weekend?

Of course it’s rather unfair to make Bryant and aphorism given that his in the middle of his NBA career and for all his prodigious scoring skills, he has become basketball’s version of Mike Tyson – he plays with a chip on his shoulder and with angst worthy of Kurt Cobain.

Kobe Bryant for all his self-proclamations that he isn’t the latest of a long line of Jordanairres doesn’t help with his actions.

From the pumped fist, to the number changes… yes, the number changes.
- MJ wore #9 with the Dream Team. Kobe’s number in the US National Team is … #10.
- MJ wore #23 forever linking his name with the number (sorry Jim Carrey but your new movie sucks). Kobe now wears #24.
I wonder does this mean that he’s always going to be one step behind MJ?

It seems that Kobe Bryant is battling for more than a win on the court, he’s battling for respect. He is clearly yearning for those halcyon days when he ran with Nick the Quick, Speedy Eddie, and the Big Diesel. Before he began to embrace the Dark Side of the Force.

I’m a fan of Bryant the basketball player not the man. I wish he’d take the time off to reflect on his place in the hoops firmament and do what’s best for him, the team, and the League. Because if not, the Kobe Rules might be interpreted this way:
- You may have three titles, but you’ll never win six like MJ
- You may score 81 points (and 65 against the Trailblazers two days ago), but you’ll never win 10 scoring titles
- You may have Phil Jackson as your coach but you’ll never have him bat for you for all his “witch hunt” musings
- You may have been an All-Defensive Player but those flailing arms will bring you more suspensions.

Andropolous and the Sneaker Pimps

Who influenced my choice of kicks?

Michael Jordan is not responsible for my wearing Nikes. At least initially. Neither was it Chris Mullin who I was a huge fan of dating back to his St. John days when the team was known as the Redmen not the Red Storm and nor was it Charles Barkley with his “if I can’t go through you there are a couple of ways I can go around you” commercial.

My sneaker pimp was none other than Michael Douglas. Yes, the actor and he of the War of the Roses, Black Rain, and Basic Instinct fame. Now Kirk Douglas’ son didn’t set any athletic records or break any backboards but for me in the days of FEN and sports movies like Pisces and Slap Shot (dude, Paul Newman and the Hanson Brothers!), I sometimes turned to Hollywood to slake my thirst for sports in a pop-culture deprived market.

In the great pantheon of sports movies, the 1979 movie Running starring Michael Douglas as Michael Andropolous, a failed American Olympic Marathon runner, will not be remembered like Rocky, Remember the Titans, A League of Their Own, or We Are Marshall. But Running will go down as one my all-time favorites. My dad took me to watch that and I sat mesmerized about this story of redemption and crossing the finish line. I asked my friends to watch it and felt embarrassed when they laughed at Douglas’ finishing the race all bloodied and broken. But I loved it so that I bought the novelization of the film (and I still have the browned-out and well-thumbed book). The other thing that enthralled me was Douglas/Andropolous’ choice of footwear. It was a simple pair of running shoes with a check sign on it (who knew that it was called the Swoosh back then).

I was hooked and badgered my dad no end to get me a pair albeit unsuccessfully. I never got to buy the kicks I wanted for myself until I was working. And I recall my first pair: the black and blue Huarache Air Trainer. Man, I loved those shoes. It was like riding on a Benz with its great shocks and cushioning; it was stylish, and it was an excellent sports shoe – one that paved the way for cross-trainers. Seeing how Nike brought them back and turned them into Kobe Bryant’s signature shoe wear was a treat; like the cherry on top of that banana split supreme.

As much as I was a Michael Jordan fan, it was kind of hard to wear his Air Jordans. For one thing, they were the priciest shoes on the market and as much as it was also a fashion statement to have Jordans, I guess you were expected to be really good at basketball to have one. I was pretty okay but not great at hoops. But just having that Jumpman logo – which will go down in history as one of the most famous next to the Golden Arches and the Swoosh – on my gear meant it was cutting edge, classy, and top flight.

I did collect my pair of Air Jordans with the III, X, and XI being my faves. And Scottie Pippen’s Air Uptempos were stuff that I coveted. I simply loved those black shoes with the funky huge “AIR” stitched to its side.

Cut years later, I discovered other footwear. I bought K-Swiss because I loved the simplicity of the shoes although back then it wasn’t something you could wear to play hoops. The classic version is still a staple of my footwear to this day. More so when the off-white color got dirtied-- it looked even cooler. I remember watching Julia Roberts’ movie Sleeping With the Enemy and there was a scene where Kevin Anderson was seated in the porch of this house with his leg atop a couch and he was wearing a pair of dirty white K-Swiss just like mine and I remember saying to myself, “Man, it does look cool!”

So how about them black shoes?

It seemed back then that it was like throwing a brick through a window. To my recollection, the purveyors of black soles were Joe Paterno’s Penn State Nittany Lions and Red Auerbach’s Boston Celtics. But the black tops craze went into overdrive when the Chicago Bulls formally adopted that as their shoe color (but that choice can actually be attributed to former Bull Brad Sellers who thought it would be a great sign of team unity).

Well now, kicks come in the colors of the rainbow (just like ipods and other digital mp3 players). They’ve become forms of expressions with a street and fashionista feel to them. Who would have thought that sneakers would have that technological edge to them? Remember those futuristic Nikes on Michael J. Fox in Back to the Future and those space-faring Reeboks on Sigourney Weaver in Aliens? Say no more, effendi; they’re close to becoming a reality.

I purchase three to four pairs of rubber shoes a year. I use a couple for casual wear and the others for tennis and hoops. Does a celebrity endorser have an effect on my choices? Contrary to what people think, yes, star power helps. But I guess it’s the bigger shoe companies like Nike, Adidas, Reebok, and Converse who use the big guns to push their products. Others like K-Swiss get by using ordinary folk to push their products. But nowadays I look to the athletes I admire -- Michael Jordan, James Blake, Kobe Bryant, or even Manu Ginobili among others to choose what shoes to buy and contribute to the coffers of a billion-dollar industry.

Funny because it wasn’t an athlete who first got me into this.

Eddie

“Dynasty, man. Dynasty.”

I remember those words like it was yesterday. It was during an NBA Action feature on the then-young guns of the Los Angeles Lakers Eddie Jones and Kobe Bryant. They were being interviewed outside scenic La Jolla and both were looking towards the sea when Jones answered host Summer Sanders’s question on where they saw the Lakers over the next few years.

“Dynasty, man. Dynasty.”

That was in 1998; the last year of the Bulls’ dynasty. And a new one was about to reign.

In March of 1999, Jones was traded to the Charlotte Hornets in the middle of the strike-shortened season to give more room and playing time to an emerging Kobe Bryant. When the team began to lose, the Forum crowd would chant, “Eddie! Eddie!” as a sign of their displeasure over Jones’ trade for Glen Rice. The Lakers’ first full year without their familiar #6 was a little chaotic but by June of 2000, the Lakers won the first of three straight titles.

Dynasty. Only Jones wasn’t a part of it.

After a year of purgatory in Charlotte, Eddie was picked up by the Miami Heat where he would join a team that was poised to snatch the eastern crown vacated by Chicago – I really thought he’d join the Bulls after his stay with the Hornets. In South Beach, he joined Anthony Mason, PJ Brown, Dan Majerle, Brian Grant, Tim Hardaway, Bruce Bowen, Alonzo Mourning, AC Green, and Cedric Ceballos to form a talented team that ultimately fell short. But that was some team, huh?

In 2003, the Heat drafted Dwyane Wade out of Marquette and a year later, picked up Shaquille O’Neal. They lost to Detroit in the Eastern Finals of 2005 but figured to be a contender what with new additions and the maturation of Wade. Only the following season, they traded Jones who had become a favorite at the American Airlines Arena in his five years with Miami. And then the Heat won the NBA title.

After another brief stint this time with the God-forsaken Memphis Grizzlies, Jones was taken back by the Heat after being loaned for one year in exchange for Jason Williams and James Posey who both contributed to Miami’s title drive. Guess Pat Riley fleeced old mentor Jerry West over that one. As much as I don’t root for any team coached by Riley, it sure was nice to see Jones back in a Heat uniform. The other day, he scored 13 points in a win over the Wizards and nine points in another victory against the Pistons last Saturday.

While Jones missed the championship run, he’s here for the defense of the crown. “All I can do is try to fit in and contribute,” he says at the prospect of finally bagging a ring that has eluded him. “Maybe this time, I’ll get lucky.”

Eddie Jones has always been a crowd favorite wherever he’s been, but being a good team player and teammate doesn’t necessarily guarantee success on the hardcourt. Maybe this time and if D-Wade gets back for the play-offs, Jones will finally be able to have “champion” in his career resume (he never won a national championship during his college days at Temple).

I always loved Eddie’s slashing game, those power dunks, and Gervin-esque finger rolls. Yeah, the finger roll is a dying art (locally, it’s only JC Intal who does that). Aside from EJ, the last NBA player who used this as a part of his arsenal was Scottie Pippen.

I was too young to watch ABA ball, but I kinda loved watching old game films of the Stilt, Dr. J, and Iceman flip that ball over the pterodactyl-wingspans of NBA centers like Kareem, Russ, Willis, and Moses; the likes of whom we will never see again. Of course, its nothing quite like the airborne game it is now, but still...

I use to work on the finger roll in the backyard of my home. And from time to time, I still try it out during games. EJ was just fun to watch when he’d elevate over his guard and roll the ball over the outstretched hands of his defender for a deuce.

There have been a lot of great players who have never won a title: Charles Barkley, Adrian Dantley, Chris Mullin, Larry Nance, and Darryl Dawkins are but a few. And there are those like Eddie who’ve had the misfortune of missing out on titles with their former teams.

Another such is the Philadelphia 76ers’ current television analyst Steve Mix who used to play center alongside Chocolate Thunder for the Sixers. He was there for their Finals’ losses to Portland and the Lakers. In 1983, Mix was traded to the Lakers; the year Moses Malone led Philly to the Promised Land with his “fo, fo, fo” play-off prediction (turns out that Malone was wrong by one game as they suffered a solitary loss to the Milwaukee Bucks in the Eastern Finals). The Lakers and Mix were subsequently swept out of the Finals by the title hungry Sixers. Mix would move to the Bucks the following year after which he called it a career. Mix, like Jones, was a solid player with a level-headed demeanor in pro sports. It’s too bad that good guys like them don’t get to win the Big One all the time.

But at least Jones still has one more chance to win an NBA title before he calls it quits. And if the chants of “Eddie! Eddie!” cascade down American Airlines Arena, maybe #6 will have the chance to raise his arms in triumph for the title that always eluded him.

Running

Every year, at least 20,000 pairs of running shoes are sold locally. Industry types estimate that tallies up to Php 80,000,000 in gross sales. And that’s not counting numbers for the fake footwear that can be found in almost every tiangge or commercial area in the country today.

While seemingly not as appealing or popular as the more mainstream sports like basketball, boxing, football, or volleyball, millions of millions of Filipinos engage in some form of running whether for competitive, recreational, or health reasons. Marathons, fun runs, jogging, and run-for-causes have become a staple of our lives. Why we even have a running priest!

And every couple of years more and more people get into running. They’ve learned that unless you’re tall and uncommonly good with a basketball or can land haymakers like a certain pugilist from General Santos City; running is perhaps the most viable vehicle to success, power, prestige, women, opportunity and heaven forbid – money. In fact, some of these people who run our sports agencies don’t even have an athletic bone in their body!

Welcome to the great equalizer in Philippine society – running. For public office that is. In our country, the obscene amount of money spent alone for campaigns and elections is more than enough to make a significant upgrade on our educational system – and that’s not even counting the pork. It’s enough to provide to provide huge repairs on our sucky and oft controversial sports scene. In fact, Php 3 million alone can run a professional football league for one season and that includes airtime!

Like sports, public office is something anyone can get into. Hey, it’s a free country!

Aside from the trapos who are consistently best friends with the Ombudsman; there are the usual gaggle of celebrities who aren’t exactly paragons of virtue and leadership. There are the actors who must think that offing x number of baddies in their movies makes them fit for the job. If so, they should go to the Spratlys and to send back the Chinese Navy back to the mainland. And when they’re done maybe we should give them a gun that seemingly never runs out of ammo to deal with the Abu Sayyaf.

And there are athletes who cannot even run their own affairs more so string a coherent sentence or two. Some who we had high hopes for have become a part of the system. Can I shake my head in dismay now?

As I stated earlier, there’s nothing wrong with celebrities, athletes, or media-types running for public office. Not all those with backgrounds in law, business or public service have done a great job as it is. And who knows, maybe it’s these people who can actually make real and meaningful change. Unfortunately the track record – yes, there’s that running jargon again – of celebrities, athletes, and media-types leaves much to be desired.

It’s hard to pre-judge a person’s performance in public office regardless of their background. Maybe that’s the jaded side of me. Back in the mid-to-late 80’s when I first got a chance to vote, I thought that I had a chance to make a difference. And I guess it did. The removal of a dictatorship helped usher in era of progress where we saw the rise of the middle class and a climate more conducive to business (The martial law climate didn’t do much to stimulate economic growth. Think about it, the call center industry alone pumps in millions of dollars into the country; now you can’t have that if there was curfew, right?).

But now, welcome to the suck that is our political climate where we’re going through another exercise in the banal and profane. It’s election time again and everyone wants to run for public office. In my barangay in Marikina, an SK rep several years ago was accused of embezzling public funds! SK, ha? And this person was a she in her teens. Dude, I didn’t know that there was that much money into SK. Even if there isn’t, it must have been enough for her to even think of misappropriating it.

Show me a real honest-to-goodness public servant and I’ll show you renewed interest in my flagging sense of nationalism. In the meantime, I’m going to do my routine of walking and real running on weekends in the grounds of my alma mater.


Other notes: The race-for charity between Charles Barkley and Dick Bavetta was not only hilarious but one of the best moments of the recent NBA All-Star Weekend... Tiger Woods’ run of six consecutive victories ended in the Accenture Match Play Championship... Looks like that New York Yankee outfielder Bernie Williams’ run of 16 years with the only ball club he’s ever known is over. We’re missing ya, Bern!

My favorite NBA All-Star Weekend Moments

Pro basketball’s biggest party is something I really look forward to every year. When I was a kid, I’d associate the All-Star Weekend more with February more than Valentine’s Day – well, that is until girls became a little more of a priority (but now I don’t celebrate V-Day on the 14th but either the day before or after to avoid so many inconveniences).

For me, it’s the best “all-star” event of the major sports. I sure do enjoy Major League’s Baseball’s Home Run Derby but that’s about it. The All-Star Weekend – no defense and all – is still king. Now if pro football (not soccer, dummy) only would have something similar not just UEFA.

Here are some of my fave All-Star Weekend moments:

1988 Three-point Shooting Contest. The immortal Larry Bird put on a performance that I will never forget. Bird began by talking some subtle trash in the locker room when he asked, “Who’s finishing second?” Bird had won the first two installments of the contest despite a verbal disdain for the three-ball – if you ask me, it was just Bird bustin’ folks as he likes to say. Seattle Supersonics sharpshooter Dale Ellis finished with 15 in his final round and Bird calmly took to the right side of the court. After he rifled in a shot to tie the score, he held in his hand the money ball which he fired with time running down. Bird raised his crooked index finger as if to say that he was number one even before the ball settled into the net for the victory! Celtic teammate Danny Ainge who likewise took part in the competition raised both his hands in celebration as for one magical evening; the crowd in Chicago was firmly on the Birdman’s side.

1988 Slam Dunk Contest. The Human Highlight Film versus Air in the best slam dunk contest ever – sorry, Vince. I said contest not soliloquy. Pretty much every dunk you’ve ever seen that rocked the rim was on full display this night by two of basketball’s best dunk artists. Michael Jordan would end it with an awesome length-of-the-floor take off from the 15-foot line leaving Dominique Wilkins feeling both starry-eyed and robbed at the same time.

1991 All-Star Weekend. I was at my grandparent’s house watching the games on FEN. It was at Charlotte that year in 1991. A day before, Dee Brown won the Slam Dunk Contest with “the blind dunk.” Before the start of the All-Star Game, celebrated jazz saxophonist Branford Marsalis and Top 40 artist and pianist Bruce Hornsby trotted out to center court to perform what I believe was the game’s most stirring version of Star Spangled Banner. Now this was right before the start of the first Gulf War and it was a most anxious time for the world. San Antonio Spurs center David Robinson who was in the Navy reserves was playing badly as he was worried he would be called up for military service at that time. Charlotte is near the military’s Fort Bragg where many of its soldiers were deployed to the gulf and there were many military families in the stands and players on the floor who had tears in their eyes after Marsalis’s and Hornsby’ emotional performance. Their rendition proved to be so popular that the duo went on to record it and was later used in Ken Burns’s epic Baseball documentary.

A Magical Cameo. There was still some Magic in the air on February 9, 1992 at the O-rena in Florida. Several months after announcing that he was retiring after contracting the HIV virus, Magic Johnson was voted by fans despite not having played a single NBA-minute. The Golden State Warriors’ Tim Hardaway graciously gave up his starting slot to Johnson who didn’t disappoint with a 25-point and nine assist performance. He took Isaiah Thomas and Michael Jordan on-one-one and drilled a pair of treys that just rocked the stadium. And for Magic who came into the NBA with a boyish and winsome smile, he flashed the biggest grin of the night as he claimed the MVP trophy.

The 2000 Slam Dunk Contest in the Arena in Oakland. Vince Carter single-handedly pumped life back into what was becoming a sterile contest. He unveiled new dunks that no one saw before and firmly established himself as probably the best dunker of all time.

The Slam Dunk Contest in Las Vegas also has an added attraction with former dunk champs Julius Erving, Dominique Wilkins, Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, and Vince Carter as serving judges. Now here’s hoping that Nate Robinson loses.

On a side note: Pat Riley is a sham. First of all, when his Miami Heat started to lose, he steps down and says he’s had enough while handing the reins over to Stan Van Gundy. When the team is on the cusp of a title, he returns and dumps Van Gundy and goes on to win his fifth title as a coach. Then early this season, his team sucks and he bails out because he says he needs surgery. Just when the team begins to get healthy and “interim” coach Ron Rothstein does a masterful job, he’s back on the sidelines. What a faker! Here’s hoping his Heat crash and burn. Phil Jax is still way better than you, Riles! Let’s Go Bulls!

More Sideline Slants

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t such a wise move after all
After Devin Hester ran 92 yards for a touchdown to open Super Bowl XLI, I thought that I was going to see a shuffle redux. Instead, I saw Adam Vinatieri claim another championship. Guess Tony Dungy figured that if they couldn’t beat the New England Patriots, then they needed to get Vinatieri who broke their hearts on one too many occasions. And now Vinatieri’s probably laughing all the way to the bank for he has one more ring than Tom Brady.

An officemate accosted me the day after the Bears lost and said that I didn’t know how to choose my sports teams. I stood perplexed and was like, “Am I supposed to bet on another team even if I’m not rooting for them?" Hurm.

I felt bad but maybe not as bad as Scott Wiese who also may not be as wise as we might think. This die-hard Bears fan said that he’d legally change his name to Peyton Manning if the Indianapolis Colts won the Super Bowl. The former Wiese guy said that his sacrifice is indicative of his passion for Bears’ football. But think of the headlines: Peyton Manning roots for the Bears.

This is Anfield or is this England?
Not since John Goodman made a mockery of the Royals in King Ralph have we seen an invasion of England by “those bloody Yanks.” There are currently 10 Americans plying their trade in the Premiership including quite a few for Newcastle United which has finally risen from mediocrity. And now American tycoons George Gillet and Tom Hicks have purchased ownership for Liverpool FC hoping to restore the Reds to respectability after an impatient fan base drove away Gerard Houllier who helped steer the Mersey side to some stirring victories and championships and is now doing the same to Lyonnaise Olympique in the French Ligue 1. Word is they’re looking to re-brand Anfield for some corporate advertiser. Tradition is definitely out of the building. Now let’s see how they do on the pitch.

With Liverpool’s purchase, that makes the top three English clubs in the hands of foreigners (Chelsea was purchased by eccentric Russian billionaire Roman Abramovich in 2003 while American businessman Malcolm Glazer completed a hostile takeover of Manchester United in 2005).

Ironic isn’t it? After Britannia colonized about half the world, their football clubs are now getting a 21st century version of that --- the corporate takeover. But really, it should be good for Liverpool.

Another reason why athletes should not be role models
Chicago Bulls’ rookie forward-center Tyrus Thomas said that he was only joining the Slam Dunk Contest during the upcoming NBA All-Star Weekend to claim his appearance fee. The ungrateful lout was fined by Bulls’ GM John Paxson for $10,000 for his comments that clearly embarrassed the organization. Well, at least Thomas can use his earnings from the contest to offset his fine.

Rust never sleeps
Iron Mike Tyson is a joke. The former heavyweight is a shell of his former self when he was the meanest sonafabitch inside the square ring some 15 years ago. With a rap sheet longer than Yao Ming’s wingspan, Tyson once more made the news (but why, I ask?) after checking himself into a rehab center for a cocaine addiction. Tyson told arresting officers that he uses cocaine every chance he gets.

Some boxing observers hypothesize that the passing away of Cus D’Amato before Tyson won the heavyweight title contributed to his downward spiral. That may be partially true but Tyson prior to that was like a force of nature that took a lot of effort to control. I believe that his dismissal of trainer Kevin Rooney was the turning point for his boxing dynamics began to sharply decline after that.

Does Mike Tyson deserve pity? If this were his first offense then there could be some form of clemency, but Mike Tyson is a ticking time bomb. I’m not even sure that prison time – which is something of a possibility because of his new offense – will do any good.

A white hanky for Capello
The Bernabeau faithful are looking for the heads of Ramon Calderon and Fabio Capello to roll. Things looked bright despite the retirement of Zizou after the World Cup, but instead, the season is close to being another disaster. I’ve written before saying that the Beckham situation was deviously manipulated by Calderon and Capello to suit their plans. Instead the whole thing has backfired on them and the white hankies have begun to appear after games. It rose to a fever pitch after that recent loss to Levante.

Yet in an incredible twist of fate, Capello let Becks play against Real Sociedad just the other night (after saying that the former England captain was done in a Madrid kit) and he scored the equalizer in the 37th minute. Ruud Van Nistelrooy finished off the home team with a header for his 11th La Liga goal for Madrid.

Said Capello, “I picked him because he has been good in training for three weeks. I’m pleased he scored with a free kick because he hasn’t scored many this season.”
What a schmuck. Of course, he hasn’t scored many. Some confidence you’ve given him and the rest of the team.

Go Bears!

My introduction to American Football and the NFL was interestingly enough through the pages of Hugh Hefner’s Plaboy magazine. It was that (I think) cover featured Farrah Fawcett-Majors when she was still hot and appeared in the sizzling first generation of Charlie’s Angels. Inside the mag, they had a pictorial on the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders that left a lasting imprint on my mind. Inside the NFL indeed.

Years later, I purchased my first issue of Sports Illustrated (and I still have it and every issue I’ve bought since) at the Rastro magazine store in Shoppesville, Greenhills. The cover story was John Elway’s magnificent drive to win the AFC against the Cleveland Browns in 1986.

Years later, my first ever live NFL game was the Dallas Cowboys at the New York Giants at the Meadowlands. The Tuna was in his coaching debut and he beat his former team, the Big Blue from NYC.

The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders aside, the one team that I became a fan of was the Chicago Bears. I first became a fan not simply through their on-field success but their off field stories. When I first saw that true-to-life drama on television Brian’s Song about Bears’ running backs Brian Piccolo and Gale Sayers (starring the ultra cool James Caan and Billy Dee Williams), I remember crying an ocean just like everybody else. Piccolo died of cancer at the young age of 26, but it was his friendship with Sayers that said something about the future of American sports – the integration and ascent of other ethnic groups in mainstream American. Culture and consciousness.

But it wasn’t solely because of a tearjerker that turned me intio a Bears fan. It was the 1984-85 team that nearly made it to Super Bowl XIX. They lost in the NFC championship to Joe Montana’s San Francisco 49ers at Candlestick Park where Bears QB Steve Fuller was intercepted several times. I do remember Bears safety Gary Fencik played the game of his life intercepting Montana twice although the Bears were eventually shut out 23-0 in an embarrassing loss.

The following year, the modern version of the Monsters of the Midway came into popular lore when they acquired loud-mouth quarterback Jim McMahon, an appliance in William “the Refrigerator” Perry, and kicker Kevin Butler out of Georgia State. They had Mike Ditka as coach and Buddy Ryan (later Head Coach of the Philadelphia Eagles) as Defensive Coordinator.

They went 15-1 that season; their only loss was to Dan Marino’s Miami Dolphins. But after that, they just steam rolled into the play-offs allowing only 10 points in three post-season matches.


Today’s Bears nearly had a chance to duplicate their predecessors’ feat last season – the 20th anniversary of their Super Bowl XX victory. But they fell short.

But largely behind an unheralded bunch of players such as Rex Grossman, Rashied Davis, Mushin Muhammad, and Desmond Clark (the names aren’t of the household variety that inspires fear in opponent’s eyes) and from their only name player in linebacker Brian Urlacher, they’re back in the Big Game 21 years after their last hurrah. They don’t have that fearsome linebacking corps led by the fearsome Dick Butkus and Bill George or the one captained by Mike Singletary to win the Super Bowl. They don’t have that name quarterback such as Sid Luckman, Jim McMahon, or even George Blanda. And their coach is someone named Lovie Smith for chrissake!

But that’s all right. Let the Indianapolis Colts have all the attention. They may have the better numbers owing to that laser canon for an arm that is Peyton Manning. They may have gotten those monkeys off their backs that are the collective New England Patriots. But now they’ve got Bears hot in pursuit.

It’s a toss-up as to who is going to win. But me? I’m saying that the Bears will wallop Manning and company in Super Bowl XLI to claim their second title in the modern era. Go Bears!

When I talk about the NFL nowadays, I ramble on about the Bears and the Broncos who also have a soft place in my heart. I talk of rebuilding the Patriots, of the rapid ascent of Eli Manning in New York, and the mystical pull of the Oakland Raiders in their silver and black.

I have forgotten those leggy and sexy Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders now. And haven’t looked at that Farrah Fawcett-Majors issue of Playboy (I got another copy at midtown Manhattan for $39 a couple of years ago) in quite awhile.

There’s more to discuss fan-wise, and but hey, there are those Philadelphia Eagles Cheerleaders now and all I can say is, “Woooooooo!”

The Round Mound & Agent Zero

Outside
One of my earliest recollections of Charles Barkley was when he was in Philadelphia and they were playing Portland at the Spectrum. The Trailblazers were in their half-court set and the ball had swung to their then-rookie Mark Bryant who was working the ball to Jerome Kersey. Barkley, who was on top of the key called out, “Yo!” And Bryant fell for that old playground trick of passing to an opponent. The Round Mound of Rebound hightailed it to the other end of the floor for a monster slam and guffaws of laughter on both sides.

That’s the way Barkley played the game – with feral intensity and in the spirit of fun. Easily, he is the most quoted – although he does claim, misquoted – player in the NBA. The loquacious forward has found a home on TNT’s Inside the NBA which is the funniest sports talk show since Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann ruled Sportscenter. Along with Kenny Smith, Doug Collins, Marv Albert, Steve Kerr, and Ernie Johnson among others, they have the best quotes and most fab insights. While not as astute as Kerr, Chuck knows how to make the broadcasts interesting and fun to listen to.

Barkley: Byron Scott just got out of the hospital.
Johnson: Huh? What happened?
Barkley: He got stabbed in the back (in reference to his players ousting him from New Jersey).

Chuck on Vince Carter: Half-man. Half-season.

Kenny Smith: Andre Igoudala was on fire!
Chuck: No, he wasn’t. He was just excited he got to shoot in a game (in reference to Allen Iverson’s not passing the ball).

During the recent Los Angeles Lakers vs. Sacramento Kings game in Sacto, Barkley subbed for an indisposed Steve Kerr to work alongside Marv Albert and he was fantastic. He playfully needled veteran ref Dick Bavetta who is 67 years of age about his apparent slowness in getting up and down the NBA hardwood to do his job. Said Barkley, “Bavetta was so old that he parted the Red Sea with Moses.” And he also added that he and Albert could beat Bavetta down the floor anytime and anywhere. Added Sir Charles, Bavetta’s tombstone would read, “He keeled over while racing the Chuckster.” TNT is proposing that the two settle the score once and for all right before the All-Star Game. Bavetta has reportedly agreed to race. Stay tuned to this if it materializes but that would be real fun since Bavetta is another jokester.

In that same LA-Sacto telecast, the Lakers’ Brian Cook found himself wide open late in the game but passed up a shot to which Barkley leapt up and yelled out loud enough even for those in the nearby seats to hear, “Shoot the ball! Shoot the ball. If you’re scared, get a dog!” Bwahahaha. That’s just awesome!

Courtside
My three fave NBA jerseys today are Kobe’s #24 (yes, I have the Lakers’ purple road jersey and am one of the few MJ fans who’s a Kobe fan), Andres Nocioni’s #5, and Gilbert Arenas’ #0. Yes, Arenas. How can you not love this player who has made a career out of using perceived slights as motivation? Not since MJ lit up foes with channeled anger has the NBA seen a playa like Arenas. There’s even a term coined for his oddities, Gilbertology. He wears #0 after basketball experts once said that he plays zero minutes in Arizona, his college. That goes to show that experts know jack. And after being cut out from the US Basketball National Team to the recent FIBA Worlds, he promised to take it out on Mike Krzyzewski’s assistants on that team, Phoenix’s Mike D’Antoni and Portland’s Nate McMillan. He lit up the Suns for 54 and said he’d go for 50 versus the Trailblazers this coming February 11. And he even wrote in his blog that he’d “give up one NBA season to go back to college just to play Duke where he’d score 84 or 85 points.” Hoo-hah!

My slant, Coach K was the main reason why the US team lost at Saitama. He didn’t play his bench much and inexplicably did not use Dwight Howard in the second half during that crucial loss to Greece. Why get a team of 12 when you’re only going to a 7-man rotation? And he had Brad Miller who could break down those zones with his deadeye outside shooting. Stay in college, Coach K. Your game only works there.

Back to Arenas. Not since Larry Bird have we seen a player who likes to call his shots. Remember when Bird told Xavier McDaniel as they were headed for their respective benches during a timeout that he’d shoot from a certain spot on the floor (in the game’s dying minutes) and that he’d make it? The Birdman delivered on that promise on the very spot he pointed out to the X-Man.

Well, Arenas is somewhat like that. Before every shot, he’d yell, “Hibachi!” That’s because he heats up real fast like a Hibachi grill. But after Kobe Bryant said that he doesn’t take quality shots, Arenas began to shout, “Quality shot,” after every shot. And he took it out on the Lakers going for 60 points.

Well, both are headed for the All-Star Game at Las Vegas where both figure to be a big part of pro hoops’ biggest party. Barkley vs. Bavetta? Arenas vs. the League. That I’d pay to watch.

A Real Mess

Home
Before the ASEAN Football Cup Finals, I was shocked to hear most of my friends and colleagues say that our National Team was going to get their collective asses whupped. It’s not that I had overly misplaced optimism or unrealistic expectations, but rather I believed that our team would fight and contend. While in the aftermath of the competition, my prediction might seem laughable, I like to think that we went into the finals thinking we had a chance. Look, if we’re going to go into international competitions like the Asian Games, SEA Games, Olympics or what have you and our mindset is we’re not going to win, then why bother sending a team? Let’s save the tax payers some money and just send the boxers, cue artists, wushu practitioners or the sure-ball medal winners. We’re there as contenders not as foils for players to rack up some serious personal stats.

So maybe the system Aris Caslib ran was wrong. Maybe they didn’t have enough preparation. Maybe our team wasn’t in the best of conditions – did you see how the Malaysians and Thais outran our defensive backs time and again? The way the Thais had their way with us, I swear I thought the score was 11-0. Oh, that was Singapore versus Laos? No fooling. If the Malays and Thais weren’t excited like they were at a duck shoot, they might have scored a few more. Maybe this will show people that having the Fil-foreigners is a short-fix solution.

Aside from the beatings we got, I was afraid that the losses (so are you happy we tied Myanmar?) would kill the burgeoning interest in football locally. You don’t know how pissed I was when I heard the game analyst’s comments that we are clearly out of our league and how the tourney should be a learning experience. We’ve been schooled so much over the years that I wonder if we’re inured to the lessons. Truth hurts, doesn’t it? And some naysayers opine that these losses might send Philippine football back to the Stone Age. Well, I don’t think so and that’s not the eternal optimist in me speaking. I think that more people care now and they won’t allow the sport to sink into quiet obscurity. So now it’s back to the drawing board and the upcoming SEA Games.

Our foes play some 30+ international games every year. Our team plays in much less. Shooting from the hip here, I’d say our team needs more exposure, better facilities for training, better training, and a solid comprehensive grassroots program. Not a splintered one. What’s happening is we have different fiefdoms for associations. If they aren’t feuding with one another they think their association is king. So much for team spirit.

It seems that after every debacle in some sporting event, people call for an inquiry or take the opportunity to lambaste the incumbents. But has anything been done? Time for real action, gentlemen. And by the way, thanks to the Azkals! I’m a fan no matter what.

Abroad
Over in the Iberian Peninsula, Real Madrid, my favorite international football team (after the defunct New York Cosmos) is in turmoil. Yes, the soap opera continues. They are discovering much like the New York Yankees that fielding a line-up of galacticos doesn’t guarantee gleaming silverware.

I am sorely disappointed the way things have turned out after the World Cup. Their shoddy treatment of their players leaves much to be desired. I thought that David Beckham played into the hands of Ramon Calderon and Fabio Capello. All the while, the President and Coach said that the former England Captain was in Madrid’s plans. In the meantime, Becks became one of the world’s most expensive cheerleaders hardly getting any playing time. Then they said that it was Beckham’s decision whether he wanted to stay with the team. When Beckham chose the LA Galaxy’s offer, the two reacted as if Beckham had an affair with their wives. Calderon made derisive comments not just about Beckham but even the other players most notably Ronaldo, Iker Casillas, and Antonio Cassano, and Guti. Capello also said that Beckham played his last game with Real. After the backlash against their poor management of the situation, the two backpedaled. Calderon apologized to the team for his rants (he called his team a bunch of spoiled egoists, revealed to all how much Casillas makes, and pooh poohed Beckham’s deal with a supposed lousy football league) and Capello said that maybe Beckham might play out his final season. But the damage has been done. Capello even flipped the bird on one irate fan! Madrid – championship-less in three years now is rebuilding for the nth time. The players are unhappy. If management believed that the youth movement was the way to go then they should have done so after the last World Cup. As it is, many of their former players and coaches left with a sour taste in their mouths. Not exactly the paragon of a model organization Real Madrid is. Maybe after this, other players might not want to showcase their wares at the Bernabeau.

Maybe the LFP should change the team’s name to Real Mess.