Pacquiao-Marquez IV

And that's that.

With one crushing blow, Manny Pacquiao was out cold. With one crushing blow, the people of the Philippines were out cold, as well. In a sport where crushing blows sell fights and end fights, it only took one to write history. It had all the makings of a classic. Two of the best pound-for-pound fighters slugging it out, their respective countries on their backs. Pacquiao-Marquez 4 was supposed to be the end. It ended in spectacular fashion but it also started another round of the blame game.  

Blame Manny. Blame Jinkee. Blame Freddie. Blame Buboy. Blame Ariza. Blame Chavit. Blame his entourage. Blame his new beliefs. Blame his extra-curricular activities. Blame Philippine politics. Blame Floyd. Heck, let's blame Reggie Miller, Charles Barkley and the rest of the NBA. Maybe we should blame one or all of them. Maybe we shouldn't. But if I had to put the blame on something, it would be Juan Manuel Marquez's right fist. His right fist that seemed to have a vendetta, a score to settle with Pacquiao. His right fist that carried 8 years full of anger, frustration and pain. His last-second punch was so strong, it felt like we were all face down on the canvas. Maybe we were and to some extent, maybe we still are.

Through 5 rounds, I had Pacquiao ahead by a close 48-45. Each fighter had been knocked down, Pacquiao in the 3rd round and Marquez in the 5th. The Mexican already had, what it seemed like, a broken nose, courtesy of the Sarangani province Representative. With seconds left, I had Pacquiao winning the 6th round. Seconds later, it was over. Juan Manuel Marquez finally got the monkey off his back. While he is now feeling the effects of Manny Pacquiao's punches, the pain is a far second to the jubilation and relief of finally and officially beating the man. For six rounds, we were witnesses to what boxing should be. If Marquez had failed to connect on that last punch, we would probably be witnesses to one of the greatest fights ever. For the warrior from Mexico City, it probably already is. 

And all it took was one crushing blow.

Reignite the Blaze

Another year, another losing season and another final four non-appearance for the College of St. Benilde Blazers. The worst part, we're getting used to it.

I was there when we won our first and only men's basketball championship. I remember sitting up in the stands, my heart pounding inside my chest. With every Sunday Salvacion basket, every Al Magpayo rebound and every Titus Mendoza hustle play, one side of Rizal Memorial stadium would erupt in utter delight. One side. All Benildeans. I remember the goosebumps on my arms as I sang the Alma Mater song. For one night, the other side of Taft Avenue was in euphoria. The Blazers appeared in the final four the next two seasons, reaching the finals in 2002 only to be defeated by San Sebastian. Since then, wins have been sporadic. Winning seasons and final four appearances, same as those goosebumps, have been non-existent. 

I admit, I haven't watched a single live game ever since. But I catch Blazer games on AKTV whenever I can. I check out team standings and box scores online. I may not be the perfect supporter but I try my best. And I'm proud of that fact. What I can't stand is seeing rows and rows of empty seats wherever my beloved Blazers play. Maybe it's difficult to watch the games live, especially when the matches are held during school and office hours but if the fans from the other team can find ways to watch, maybe we should, as well. I should be there to shout at every call the referees miss. I should be there to heckle the opposing team's free throw attempts. I should be there to to scream my lungs out at every good play my Blazers make. I should be there. We all should be there. Everyone. 

I won't pretend to know the ins and outs of college basketball. Heck, I won't even pretend to know the ins and outs of writing (forgive the typos, if any). What I do know is that for a college sports team to be successful, it needs support. From the school officials to the students to the graduates to the groundskeepers, every little thing we contribute goes a long way.  We are all Benildeans. It also wouldn't hurt if we got a couple of blue chip players in our sights for future seasons. With only a couple of players graduating from this year's squad, adding two or three marquee ballers to our young nucleus could yield positive results. I suggest the CSB team officials scout early and often for prospects that can help the cause and once they're in the fold, take care of them and support them 100%. And stop letting DLSU get our LSGH boys (Ahem... Thomas Torres... Ahem!). Hehehe.  

We need more scoring. We need more defense. More importantly, we need more fans. And maybe, just maybe, those goosebumps would return.

Animo La Salle. Animo Benilde.

The Kid in the Bank

I was in the bank this morning. While waiting for my turn, I noticed a boy who was around 3 or 4 years old. He was just walking around, not a care in the world, while his mom was conducting business with one of the tellers. What got my attention was his innocence, how he just moved his hands while strolling around with really no clear direction. He then saw me looking at him and he momentarily stopped and stared back, his eyes full of questions yet full of answers, as well. He turned his back and just climbed onto one of the chairs, continuing his rule over his imaginary kingdom. He never said a word. He kept to his own, unmindful of the eyes on him. In that moment, he was happy.

Random Thoughts I - Memories

A memory is a powerful thing. It has the ability to take you back and the ability to move you forward. It creates smiles, tears and toe-curling cringes from images that forever remain in our minds, no matter what, as well as in our hearts, luckily.

There are the bad ones that we revisit, not to be hurt nor to be embarrassed again but to be healed and to accept the present. it's ironic how sometimes, the things that crushed our spirits would eventually change into something that lifts, how the bad turns to good and how our weakest moments make us stronger.

On the flipside, it's the happy memories that make us cry, more often than not. We know how things will never be as good and realize how little we have right now. We try to emulate, to redo all that was done but sadly, it will never be the same.

All we can do is accept and adapt. Accept that things aren't the way they used to be and adapt to what we have and who we are. Memories remind us of days gone by but more importantly, of who we used to be.