The (dis)parity of pure play

The last time I saw Pido Jarencio in the UAAP was in 1985. He walked towards the Blue Eagles’ bench with a minute left in the game. By then UST was comfortably ahead of Ateneo who just saw their dreams of a Cinderella-like finish go up in smoke (Jarencio torched Ateneo for 30+ points). Ateneo fielded a unit mostly composed of freshmen (the ’85 Junior Champs moved up to the collegiate ranks); though they were tough and competitive, but were still pretty green for Seniors hoops. Jarencio shook the hands of his crestfallen foes and said not to worry for their time would come (and it did for they were back-to-back champs in ’87 & ‘88).

Here he is again, although in a coach’s capacity, leading the rejuvenated Tigers back into contention. And they’re playing his brand of run-and-gun ball. He’s got a young and exciting team that will only get better as they gain more experience.

The streets of Manila are where one can hope to find good bargains. The Benedictine Fathers had the good fortune of finding one back in the day when they lured away a skinny kid from National University to matriculate eventually in San Beda. His name? Caloy Loyzaga. NU’s misfortune isn’t exactly the stuff of the Curse of the Bambino since they won the UAAP title in 1955, but since Skip Guinto graduated they’ve for the most part been hopelessly inept (save for a few years when they had Danny Ildefonso and Lordy Tugade and in 2002 when they made the semis). But had they kept Loyzaga, think of all the couldas, wouldas, and mighthaves. Here are the Bulldogs again -- slugging it out in this year of parity in the UAAP Men’s Basketball Tournament. And they’re beating some highly fancied teams at that.The Adamson Falcons know a bit about bad karma. Since they were suspended for Marlou Aquino’s bogus grades, their team has been hexed. The nadir coming with a pair of back-to-back winless seasons (and another bordered on a third). The rudder-less team that counts the sons of many former pro greats in its current line-up has oft been described as undisciplined and selfish. Here they are again with former pro coach Leo Austria at the helm and their game has earned them back a measure of respect.The saying about it being lonely at the top is something the FEU Tamaraws wouldn’t mind right now. Instead they’re at the bottom with everyone avoiding them like they had the plague. After 18 men’s basketball titles (including two in the last three years) – they’re tied with UE for the most number of league crowns. Here they are in unfamiliar territory and flirting with history of the dubious kind – if they don’t watch out, they could be the first defending champs team to miss the Final Four. The Ateneo Blue Eagles as of this writing are on top. They weren’t even considered to be among the top three teams to compete for the championship. The loss of three key players and having a team filled with question marks were enough to relegate them to dark horse status which is fine with them. Less pressure, right?Here they are again pacing the league and despite not having played the perfect game yet.The presence alone of Joe Lipa on UP’s bench is a story unto itself. His name is synonymous with winning. He’s old school smart and his witticisms and barbarisms make for great watering hole stories. He also hopes that lightning will strike twice as it’s the 20th anniversary of Maroon Pride and the 1986 team that is forever etched into school lore.Here they are currently under .500 but you know Da Nose is going to squeeze every ounce of talent out of his wards who are expected to compete for a final four berth.The UE Red Warriors last made it to the finals when they had Bong Ravena and Jolly Escobar. They’ve fielded some pretty terrific teams the past five years but never made it to the championship round. Here they are again a solid favorite to win their 19th title. Yet in their last two outings, they lost one badly and were nearly upset in another. All of a sudden the road to the championship isn’t smooth riding as basketball observers thought it would be.Welcome to Season 69 of the UAAP. Along with the NCAA, they are last bastion of hoops where it’s played purely for the love of the game and school pride. I love it that there are less sponsors whose commercial glut took the fun right out of the game (last I checked, it was hoops I went to watch, not some teeny bopper circus). Studio 23 should jack up its prices to the sponsors who left this year and hope to comeback next year. No DLSU? Sure we miss them but the league existed and thrived and was enjoyable long before they joined. For years the bane of the UAAP was year-in-and-out you could predict with unerring accuracy who would make the semis and win the oversized plaque that passes for a trophy. Now things are topsy turvy, plenty exciting, high-scoring and we’ve been treated this early to upsets and sub-plots galore! (Dis)parity in the league? You gotta love this game.

Round 2

He had that cred coming out of the amateurs: 2 UAAP titles with La Salle, a celebrated National Team stint, and one of the last pure Pinoy players before the 90’s Fil-foreigner explosion to be designated a franchise player.

He won Rookie of the Year with Sta. Lucia and posted great stats. And that’s where it began to go downhill for him. It was said that he only cared for his stats and his money. It was said that for a man of his height and power, he played soft. It didn’t help that when he was eventually traded away from Sta. Lucia, his team finally bagged the elusive crown. It was the same story at Ginebra – they only won after he was traded away to Purefoods (and not after an embarrassing drug suspension that tarnished his rep all the more). No way is a team going to win a title with Jun Limpot in the line-up, many cruelly joked.

Friday night, with the seconds ticking oh-so close to Purefoods’ 7th PBA title, Ryan Gregorio accorded the ultimate respect to the old warhorse by putting him in the game’s last moments. Limpot’s freethrow was the series’ last basket and when the buzzer sounded, as the confetti and balloons fell so did his tears. His teammates even hoisted him for the victory ride before their coach!

He didn’t have that cred coming out of the amateurs. Sure he helped Ateneo to a title in ’02. Sure he played on a title-winning PBL team. But he wasn’t even the main man (it was Rico Villanueva, Rich Alvarez or Jun Simon). After being anointed King Eagle, an unfortunate ACL injury cruelly ended his college playing days. Nowadays it is not uncommon for players to comeback from ACLs. What is uncommon is coming back and playing at a high level. Maybe even better than he was before.

He was drafted #14 and in the second round. That he was drafted at all was a surprise to many who thought he wasn’t good enough or needed more seasoning in the PBL. But he turned into one of Yeng Giao’s prized super-subs. Displaying deadly all-around form and with the poise-f a grizzled vet, Larry Fonacier has helped Red Bull to its 3rd title in the Fiesta Conference and a runner-up finish to Limpot’s Chunkee Giants in the just-concluded All Filipino Cup. With the odds stacked against his team, Fonacier conspired with college teammate Villanueva to send the series to a sixth game with some clutch plays. Something he has done all-year long playing simple, no-nonsense fundamental basketball. For that he was accorded this year’s Rookie of the Year -- the lowest drafted player to turn the trick since Gerry Esplana did it with Presto in 1990.

Two players with divergent roads to the pros. But both seeking redemption. Life’s Round One may knock you around for a loop. Throw you a curve ball when you’re expecting a fastball down the middle. But the point is, you get right back up swinging and plugging away.

Round Two? Ah, you just read two of the best feel good pro basketball stories of the year.

Klinsmann May Have the Last Laugh

One can sense that German Coach Jurgen Klinsmann, who is a man of few words, is itching to say something. Especially after his fellow Germans derisively called him “Klinsi-grinsi” – a term that portrayed him as a clueless blonde German expatriate in sunny La La Land.

“Veni. Vidi. Vici.” Julius Caesar’s terse statement to the Roman senate after defeating King Pharmaces in the Battle of Zela (a place today located in Turkey) comes to mind.

But if victory is won on July 9 – should Germany make it all the way, this son of a Stuttgart baker may very well utter “Ich bin Berliner!” sans the donut jokes.

As the German national team celebrated after defeating Argentina 4-2 in penalty kicks, Franz Beckenbauer, Klinsmann’s coach when their side won the cup in 1990, smiled from the stands. One of his former ward’s strongest critics in the DBF (Deutsche Bund Fusbal their equivalent of our own PFF), Beckenbauer has scored his former striker’s tactics since taking over the national team. Strangely, some of the German great’s attacks (prior to the start of the Cup Finals) was over the change from the traditional and defensive 3-5-2 formation to the more offensive 4-4-2 diamond this team currently employs.

Fortunately, the new attack mode has allowed for more scoring chances and the most goals scored in the tourney thus far making Beckenbauer’s attacks sound like the musings of an older generation that isn’t attuned to the 21st century.“Try not to become a man of success but a man of value,” once said his fellow Württemberg, Stuttgart native and Noel-winning physicist, Albert Einstein. And Klinsmann could very well be quoting him in a Zen-like manner.

The finals have brought out a wave of German nationalism not seen in a long time. The fact that US Football in the wake of its disastrous cup appearance has made overtures about Klinsmann’s availability (he currently resides in California with his American wife Debbie and their two children) means the man is doing something right.The Germans head into their semi-finals match against the Azzuri clear favorites now to win their third World Cup more so now that early favorites Argentina and Brazil are out. Their offense is humming and their formerly derided defense has been rock solid. His timely substitutions such as putting in David Odonkor and selecting Jens Lehmann over former goal-keeping stud Oliver Kahn now look like masterstrokes. With one more win, the Germans will be playing for the title in Berlin. And Jurgen Klinsmann may be just the second player after Beckenbauer to both play and coach in a World Cup title team.

“Ich bin Berliner?”Nein. Klinsmann may just settle for an easy grin.

Images that are Everything

Those early images were of a roughly-hewn diamond. When Andre Agassi broke into professional tennis, he had those rock star locks and a celebrity girlfriend (and later wife) in Brooke Shields. He wore brightly-colored garb and displayed antics reminiscent of Jimbo and Mac Nasty that brought flair to an otherwise staid game.

He was irreverent. He pooh-poohed the All-England club for two years because he refused to conform to the all-white uniforms the tournament requires one to wear. On a powerful US Davis Cup team that had Pete Sampras and Jim Courier, Andre stole a page from team captain John McEnroe as he breathed fire and belched brimstone to rally the US victory against Switzerland.

Andre Agassi was no flash-in-the-pan. By the mid-90s, he had won three of the four Grand Slam events and his storied rivalry with erstwhile teammate Sampras electrified tennis. Yet for all his on-court accomplishments, his off-court goings-on seemed as much to define him. During the 1995 Australian Open, his newly-shaven plate received as much press as his victory over Pistol Pete. The nagging injuries caused tennis observers to write him off and a crumbling marriage that eventually took its toll on this son of a former Iranian Olympian was tabloid fodder.

In 1998, Agassi reinvented himself and rededicated himself to the game. Whipping himself into shape, he made a quantum leap from being ranked #141 in the world to #6 by year’s end. A triumph at Roland Garros the following year shot him into history books as the only male tennis player in history to win in all four Grand Slams and an Olympic Gold medal. Coincidentally, his second wife, Steffi Graf is the only female player in tennis history to have done the same (can’t ask for a more perfect match now, can you?).

The turn-around would become even more remarkable as he would go on to win four more Grand Slam titles and a host of others in the years since that would cement his place as one of tennis’ all-time greats. But during a tepid press conference that preceded this Australian Open, two sentences changes made the setting more significant and set off a wave of nostalgia:

"It's been a long road this year for me, and for a lot of reasons. It's great to be here. This Wimbledon will be my last, and the U.S. Open will be my last tournament."

It was 20 years ago when Andre Kirk Agassian turned pro. He has lasted longer than anyone has expected. His contemporaries have all retired. But by no means is he a pushover for younger foes. He has gamely battled today’s stars and if weren’t for an assortment of ankle and back injuries (aside from age), he probably would have beaten them.

The diamond has now been expertly carved. He is now an elder statesman of the game. His maturity and sincere love for the game are evident for the entire world to see. His induction speech of his wife Steffi at the International Tennis Hall of Fame left nary a dry eye in the house.

Three minutes within Agassi’s stepping off the podium during the Australian Open Press conference, new clay court sensation Rafael Nadal (who has oft been described as a new version of Andre) could only gush about his idol. What your best image of Andre, Rafa?

“A legend.” And that says everything.

(Three rounds into this Wimbledon Championships, Nadal ended Agassi’s run at Wimbledon with a 7-6 (5), 6-2, 6-4 victory)

Fathers and Sons

The best gift I ever received was a soccer ball. Soccer was the first sport I actually played and loved so much. That ball was my teddy bear and it was held snug and tight in my arms. I was consumed by the game so much that I was oft reminded not to forget about my grades because they began to strangely resemble footballs.

There was this old sports almanac that I read during days when classes were suspended because of the weather. That well-thumbed book became a bible of sorts as I read and re-read what accounts I could of the New York Yankees which soon became my first favorite professional team. Going down to the Bronx many years later to regularly make a pilgrimage to baseball’s hallowed cathedral was a nice way to complete the circle.

As I grew older, I was amused no end by the howls, cheers, and jeers of a Toyota-Crispa match and a slick playing Golden State Warriors team. Years later, I would fly down to Chicago to watch the Bulls and drive up to the Meadowlands to watch the Nets just to get my hoops junkie fix.

Now grown up, I need no prodding to get into sports. I have lived and breathed it and it’s a part of my everyday life. Having lived in New York, I soaked in the Islanders and the Yankees; the Nets and the Giants. I’ve balled at West 4 and watched the cats rock the rim at Rucker. I’ve learned how to play hockey and have spent a lot of time in the penalty box (for fighting and high-sticking). I’ve paid huge sums of money to watch the visiting Arsenal and Bayern Munich football clubs. I’ve made like Roger Clemens back in the day rubbing the bronze plate of the Babe at Monument Park. I’ve been in that baseball heaven that is Cooperstown and have come full circle with the players whose lives and stats I have learned much from that well-read almanac. I’ve made Modell’s and the NBA Store on Fifth Avenue regular stops on my way home from work.

And most recently, there was this day when I couldn’t sleep a wink. Tip-off was at 12 noon and sure enough I needed the rest. Come game time, I tried to remain impassive and oblivious to the people and excitement of a basketball game. When I saw my son put on his jersey with our name neatly stenciled in the back above #12 (he’s a fan of Larry Fonacier), I was ecstatic. The final stat line was un-Fonacier-like: 0 points, 2 rebounds, 1 steal, and 2 fouls. But I was proud. Never mind that they lost. I was happy for him and his teammates because they took the defeat graciously and in stride. My other son for some reason I cannot fathom would rather mind the net than try score as many goals as his old man did. Yet I’m perfectly content to be there in the bleachers and on the sidelines cheering them on instead of trying to out-coach the coach.

On this Father’s Day, I’d like to say a heartfelt thank you to my Dad for introducing me to sports. For instilling in me the sense of fair play and giving it my all. I don’t have that soccer ball and that almanac I was given all those long years ago. But I have this, my two young sons, Matthew and Anthony, who have brought me full circle to the games I’ve always loved.

Dancing on the Pitch

The atmosphere is supercharged. Fight songs and chants fill the air. A bobbing mass of humanity is ready to explode. And a goal is the match that will light the fire.

In one incandescent moment, the goal and the post-game exultation is what the sport really is about --- a celebration of life. Goals literally and figuratively are hard to come by (with the exception of a few ghastly international matches such as one where Australia lobotomized Samoa by a score of 31-0; an unbelievable score that resembles one of those Super Bowl routs) so when one is able to achieve them then a show and a shout, jump, and maybe a dance step or two are in the offing. But in soccer, those post-goal celebrations can be really wacky, crazy, amusing, not to mention highly creative.

FIFA has cracked down on post-goal celebrations to lessen the unsportsmanlike behavior that oft leads to retaliations and fights.

While we may have seen an end to it, what follows are a few examples of some of the strangest, funniest, insulting, and weirdest post-goal celebrations.

Brandi Chastain, USA (vs. China 1999 Women’s World Cup)
After scoring the tourney-winning goal, Chastain ran across the pitch, removed her jersey to reveal nothing but her sports bra. Somehow, Chastain is more remembered for the strip than her goal.

Paul Gascoigne, England (vs. Scotland Euro ’96 Championship)
After dispatching their ancient rivals with a big-time goal, Gascoigne lay on his back while his teammates grabbed water bottles from the sidelines and poured its contents into his mouth. This was in reference to a pre-tourney incident inside a nightclub where players were photographed while having alcoholic beverages poured down their throats.

Nwankwo Kanu, Nigeria (vs. Brazil 1996 Olympics)
After equalizing with Brazil 3-3 with less than 2 minutes left in the match, the Super Eagles went into extra time with renewed vigor and resolve. Kanu who scored the equalizer, blasted in an eighteen-footer to turn back the tourney favorites. Kanu ran off to Nigeria’s side of the pitch like a new-born calf learning how to walk. The rest of the Nigerian team followed suit. To the people watching, they all thought it was some Nigerian tribal dance. But the truth is Kanu felt his legs go rubbery that he had a difficult time walking upright.

Ahn Jung Hwan, South Korea (vs. USA 2002 World Cup)
After drawing with the highly-fancied US eleven with time running down, Hwan ran around mimicking a speed skater – a not so subtle dig at American Olympian Apolo Anton Ohno, who was awarded a gold medal in a skating competition after a Korean skater was disqualified.

Finidi George, Nigeria, (vs. Greece, 1994 World Cup)
After George scored the goal against Greece that sent the Super Eagles to the second round, he got down on all fours and crawled around the penalty box occasionally cocking a leg in the style of a dog marking his territory.

Jurgen Klinsmann, Tottenham Hotspurs
Fans didn’t take to Klinsmann right off the bat as they had long memories of this sleek German tornado crushing England’s hopes on the pitch time and again. After scoring his very first goal – and it was a game-wining one at that – Klinsmann ran around with his arms spread like an eagle’s then flung himself spread-eagled on the ground. That post-game celebration is copied and imitated in every corner of the globe up to this day.

This World Cup is shaping to be one of the most exciting in recent years. We’ve seen the first ever own-goal decide a match’s outcome and tiny Trinidad and Tobago hold the world’s highest scoring offense to a scoreless draw. There are a lot more matches to be played; more awesome goals to be scored that will spawn a thousand highlights to forever be etched in our memories.

And so will the post-goal celebrations that follow.

The Fever Is Upon Us

It’s in the air. You can feel it. And watch it.
The spectacle that is the 2006 FIFA World Cup is on Solar Sports’ sister channel Sports Plus. “Solar is committed to bring the best sporting events in the world to Philippine television,” beamed a proud Peter Chanliong, the cable giant’s aggressive COO. “It’s a first step for us and a step towards helping the sport grow in the country.” Next on the pitch for Solar are the Italian Serie A and the Spanish Primera Liga.

It’s also on people’s lips.
John, an English expatriate, was in an extraordinary cheerful mood, as he got ready for work last Friday. It wasn’t solely because it was the last day of the working week but the World Cup games were a mere seven days away. While getting ready he sang himself a song (to the tune of “If You’re Happy and You Know It”): “If it weren’t for all of us, you’d all be Krauts. If it weren’t for all of us, you’d all be Krauts. If it weren’t for all of us, if it weren’t for all of us, if it weren’t for all of us you’d all be Krauts.” He let out a hearty laugh and added, “Dinna worry, mate. Don read anything innit. Its just football. Thas just football.”

It’s even on the trees and on the light posts.
In the sprawling Ateneo De Manila University campus along Loyola Heights, Q.C., streamers announcing the live showing of the World Cup games at the Blue Eagle Gym adorn almost every tree and light post drowning out the traditional “welcome back” signs at the start of every school year. Ateneo Football Center Director Jong Castañeda felt that showing the games in a large venue using wide screen projectors was a no-brainer. “Football is something best watched with a large group of people,” said the visible excited ex-Blue Booter. “Hindi ba mas exciting yun? In fact, we’re open to all nearby residents and students of UP, PSBA, Miriam and others.”

It’s on the stands.
The June issue of Summit Media’s popular Men’s Health magazine features a 12-page World Cup special that Associate Publisher Alvin Jimenez describes as a “visual treat for the fan.” It’s got Zidane (in his World Cup swan song), Kaka, Messi, and other players touted to make an impact this time around. On weekdays, the metropolis’ new and smartly written broadsheet, Business Mirror, has been ahead of the pack with its comprehensive Road to Germany stories.

In fact, it’s fashionable.
Sporting goods stores have reported brisk sales of football jerseys whether they’re authentic or knock-offs or whether they carry club or national colors. A source from a major footwear company likes the outlook for football in this country where the sport is wrongly perceived to be unpopular. “Basketball still enjoys more volume sales but the market hasn’t grown. Parang nag-plateau na,” he noted. “Unlike in football where sales have been consistently aggressive and better year in and out. Of course, this being a World Cup year, sales have been much better. We’ve sold out our stocks up to December yet retailers have been clamoring for much much more.”

It’s everywhere.
Bong Sillona of Solar Sports’ Cable Sales Division has reported that at least 42 major hotels and popular bars and restaurants in the metro area have subscribed to the All-Access Pass for all 64 games of the tourney. “And that doesn’t even include residential pay-per-view numbers,” he underscored.

It’s infected all of us.
“Dude, with the games back in Germany, that means the live games will be shown late at night until the early hours of the day,” lamented on excited fan. “But,” he added with a grin, “that’s exactly why I have been saving up on my vacation and sick leaves.”

Why not? The World Cup fever is upon us.

Bleachers' Brew #3 * (asterisk)

*
by rick olivares

Dear God,

Hi. It’s me, Barry. Barry Bonds. I’ve been shaken and stirred a lot lately. But I’ve kept the faith, Lord!

I know I haven’t been the most warmest of human beings. Is it my fault that I’m the best player of my generation? Now they want to penalize me coz they say that I willingly and knowingly took steroids? I’m innocent until proven guilty. But you know that, Lord God.

I thought it was a Gatorade-like thing they were pumping into me! I swear – oopss. Sorry for swearin’, Lord God almighty!

Spare me the asterisk next to my home run tally. Please. If Bud Selig places one next to my 714-and-counting, then David Stern should place one next to the Houston Rockets’ NBA titles in ’94 & ’95. God you know that if You didn’t send your avenging angel Michael Jordan out to chase curve balls then the Bulls would have won eight straight. And maybe the Russians should have an asterisk next to their 1972 Olympic Gold Medal. The Godless communists won the game after given three tries – three tries – goddamit! – oopss. Sorry. Forgive me Lord, but it’s hard keeping all these pent up emotions inside of me with all the heckling and all. You hear those Philly fans heckle me, Lord God? And they call their city the City of Brotherly Love?

How about Muhammad Ali? We all know he lost to Ken Norton in their third bout. Look here. I’m an Ali fan, and I know he done a lot for the black man. But Norton smoked his ass in that one. And Budini Brown? He knows the truth!

That’s not baseball? Okay Lord. How about Hank Aaron? He way feasted on expansion pitching that year. Yessirree, Lordy. Uh-uh. No way he faced guys like Curt Schilling, Kerry Wood, Randy Johnson, or Greg Maddux. Facing these cats and the heat they bring night after night --- why you could dislocate a shoulder just flailing at their pitches! And the Babe. God bless him. I know I ripped him in the past, but the man practically wrote the gospel of baseball. I ain’t got nuthin’ but respect for the man. But did he ever have to face the colored man? They cheered Mark McGwire, but maybe he was doped up too. Sammy Sosa? Only You would know how many corked bats he used.

I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be rippin’ nobody. Big Mac and Sammy are my homeboys after all. All this pressure of trying to help my Giants win a World Series title – and of course, since I’m hovering about Hank Aaron’s ‘hood, then I might as well go for the record. I’ll be a good boy, Lord.

Just spare me the asterisk.

Love,

Barry

Bleachers' Brew # 2 The Stripe is A Badge of Courage

The Stripe Is A Badge of Courage
by rick olivares

Night after night they’re double-teamed, triple-teamed. Coaches, team managers, even the ballboys get into the act. And wait ‘til you hear some of the wives or girlfriends. Some have caustic tongues like you’d never believe. No such thing as homecourt advantage for them. They run the break furiously galloping down the hardwood yet whether it’s an and-one or a botched lay-up they remain impassive. Impervious to the naked and raw emotions available for all to see.

They have a game plan. In fact, during half-time they march into the dug-out to review the past 24 minutes. Were they properly spaced on the court -- hard to get in on the action when their trying to weave their way around players a foot or more taller? What were they doing right and wrong? They wipe the sweat off their faces and sip water from plastic cups. Lemon time’s over. When they march back out, it’s to a rain of catcalls and boos.

It’s tough being a PBA referee. You have to be tough. Maybe even a little crazy. Why earn the ire of thousands of screaming partisan fans when you can earn bazillions playing hoops with those selfsame fans screaming your name in delirium instead of derision?

Luisito “Boy” Cruz, the League’s only Class A referee today laughs. “Yung father ko kasi referee rin noon sa mga inter-barangay sa Valenzuela, Bulacan,” he reveals. “Mga uncles ko rin nagre-referee rin noon. Medyo maliit yung sukat natin plus the fact na nakalakihan natin nag-officiate yung father at uncles ko kaya na-engaño ako sa paging referee.”

Luis “Tito” Varela who spent a tour of duty with the famed Crispa Redmanizers is more familiar to today’s hoop fans as a referee and as an official of Caloocan. “Pagkatapos ma-kantyawan ng Toyota fans, lahat ng teams sa PBA, kahit dating teammate nagre-reklamo,” says ex-pro with a hearty laugh. “Parang walang kadala-dala! Pero interesting and kakaiba yung mag-ref.”

Not to mention it being a high-pressure job. League Technical Group Manager Perry Martinez (who played alongside Chot Reyes and Jojo Lastimosa for the Ateneo Blue Eagles in the early 80s) is always on top of every play and training. “Teams spend millions every year to play in this league. The least we can do is call the games in the best manner possible,” stresses the Martinez. “But referees are human too and can make mistakes in spite of all preparations and trainings.”

Boy Cruz recalls one game where a non-call cost one team the game. In the dying seconds of a tough and close match between Sta. Lucia and Shell, the Realtor’s high-flying swingman Kenneth Duremdes went up for a jumpshot only to be met by the Turbochargers’ Tony De La Cruz. De La Cruz’ intention was to block the shot except he hacked Duremdes causing the shot to go awry. No whistle. Game over. Shell escaped through the eye of a needle.

Almost immediately, irate players and team officials swarmed all over Cruz who tried to remain unperturbed but was sweating profusely. “Naka-align ako pero hindi ko nakita yung sitwasyon,” expounded Cruz who winced at the memory. “But alam ko na may foul.” He couldn’t sleep that night. Couldn’t eat. In fact, it took him months to get over the boner. “You just have to let go,” he added.

PBA referees are screened ever so tightly. From educational attainment right down to credit history. Working in conjunction with the National Bureau of Investigation, PBA referee applicants are screened and scrutinized much more tightly than a contestant for American Idol. They aren’t allowed to even have a favorite team. “Para pantay-pantay ang tingin,” illustrates Martinez about objectivity.

“Integrity,” points out Boy Cruz. “Is all you have. Diyan nakasalalay ang buhay at pangalan mo. Kaya yung sinasabi nila na benta yung laro… hindi pwede yun sa amin. Paano na kapag nasira ka? Saan ka pupulutin”

With game days on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays, PBA referees undergo workouts on Tuesdays with lots of film viewing. Every play is dissected: good calls, bad calls, even positioning during the game is important. Thursdays are reserved for further workouts. Saturdays are their days off when there’s no out of town game. Last April 23, Cruz and his wife Raquel celebrated their 23rd wedding anniversary at a PBA game. “Nakasanayan na niya yung basketball,” chuckles Cruz. “Eh, di doon na kami nag-date.”

But officiating has been good for the Cruzes. Through his hard work and dedication, he has managed to put his children through school. He wants and needs nothing outside his family’s simple home comforts. Incredibly, his children have gained instant notoriety because of their dad’s profession. Instead of being asked to join in pick-up games, they’re asked to ref the game!

“Nakakatawa,” beams the leanly-built Cruz. “Most people go to a game to watch their idols or family playing. I go to watch the referees.”

To be a referee in the PBA is tough. You have to be tough. Maybe a little crazy. But sometimes all it takes is to be a chip off the old block.