Vroom! Vroom! Vroom! Karting makes you scream, “Go!”

Spanning 600 meters in length on an asphalt road with curves that twist and snake, it’s called Kartzone.

At 9 p.m. last Tuesday, while the black sky enveloped Cebu, flood lights radiated on Kartzone. The Sportswriters Association of Cebu (SAC), our group whose sporting words you read about each morning, converged to tackle the one sport that’s defined by one word: Speed.

Rico Navarro, Raffy Osumo, Mike Limpag and Noel Villaflor

Categorized as Karting

Best article on R & R

I have read dozens of articles on the epic Roger vs. Rafa final but must say that the best piece comes from one of the best (if not THE best) tennis writer in the world, Peter Bodo. (If Pete Sampras, who recently released his autobiography, “A Champion’s Mind,” chose him to be co-author…. then he must be the best, right?)

Read Peter Bodo’s article here.

Roger and Rafa: Simply smashing!

(EPA/V. Donev)

Squandered break points. Rain delays. Two-set comebacks. Saved match points. A finish just 12 minutes shy of five hours. And, at 9:16 p.m. London time, the latest ending for a Wimbledon singles final. It wasn’t just a Grand Finale. It was a Match For The Ages. A rivalry that’s unrivalled. A marathon classic. Here are 14 random thoughts…

1. Manny Sainz, the president of Casino Español de Cebu, is beaming a toothful grin today. Next to our own, his favorite country won. And how Spain has dominated sports… Nadal wins two Grand Slam titles. Spain win football’s Euro 2008. Pablo Larrazabal (any relation with Dr. Yong?) wins golf’s Open de France. And Alejandro Valverde wins the Tour de France first stage en route to possibly the yellow jersey in Paris. Said Manny Sainz: Viva España!

The Heavyweight Championship of the World

Please watch the movie tonight. Please do. Sorry, it’s not starring Manny Pacquiao—he’s no heavyweight. Tonight, at 9 p.m. (RP time), it’s a battle between two champions.

One is the undisputed titleholder on grass. He’s won 65 of the last 65 on the greens; 40 straight on this tournament that you’ve probably heard of, Wimbledon. The other is the undisputed combatant on clay. Of 117 matches on the red dirt, he’s won 115; he’s 28 of 28 matches at another event you probably know: the French Open.

Tonight, the two settle the score. They’ll score. One against one. Nobody else on the boxing ring—or, the 78-ft. x 27-ft. tennis court rectangle, it’s called—will be there, not even the presence beside their chairs of their coaches or trainers.

This title fight is compelling because of how similar—and dissimilar—these two champions look. They both wear Nike. They’re 6-foot-1. They both wear white. They both have first-names that begin with “R” and represent countries that start with “S.”

It’s a sister act when W meets W at W

They are two of the most celebrated siblings on this planet. They are rivals, doubles partners, Olympic gold medalists, fashion icons, Grand Slam champions, magazine cover models and yet, amidst all their similarities, they are opposites.

Venus is tall. She’s lean. Her legs are bamboo poles. Her arms as slender as spaghetti. She’s 6-foot-1 and weighs only 160 lbs.

Serena is large-scale. Her physique is, so unlike Manny Pacquiao’s, heavyweight-like. She’s massive, imposing, sizable. Her legs are two Veco posts. Her arms as sturdy as Grade-A steel. At 5 feet, 11 inches, she weighs, according to Wikipedia, a reported 180 lbs.

Categorized as Tennis

11 points for Pac-Man who scored 11 out of 10

One, we pity David Diaz. My father-in-law, Jack Mendez, one of the toughest men I know who runs Centurion Security Agency and it’s over 1,000-strong force, wiped a tear in his eye when Diaz’s face, lying flat on the floor, all-bloodied with a lump on his left eye, was shown. Because while we cheered for Pac-Man, here was an opponent who grew up poor, whose father was a “no-read, no-write” child, and a boxing champ who could barely afford an SUV because he drove an old-model Honda with no air-con.

Two, as much as we pitied him, Diaz shouldn’t have been on the same ring with Manny. He was one of the worst enemies Pacquiao ever faced. One of the most banga. He was slow-footed, slow-paced, slow-going and just stood at the center, hanging his head like a Wild Card Gym punching bag.