2010 – Page 13 – Cebu Sports Blog by John Pages

He’s Spanish… and the King of France

If Rafael Nadal were a battery, he’d be The Energizer. He’s a Bulldozer with a Porsche engine. He’d mash through dirt like a tractor—in high speed. If he were another being, he’d be Tiger Woods-mentally-strong—minus the sex. He’s Arnold Schwarzenegger-muscular wearing Usain Bolt’s Puma. He’s an SUV 4-wheel-drive with the adroitness of a Mini Cooper.

Rafael Nadal is not the greatest ever to have gripped a tennis stick. That title rightly belongs to Sir Roger Federer. But, when we speak of mud, sand, le terre battue, soil, the red clay, the rectangle on Stade Roland Garros named Court Philippe Chatrier, nobody, nobody but the right-handed left-hander is better.

Peter Bodo, the famed tennis columnist, calls him “The Specialist.” He’s no General Practitioner Doctor; if Nadal were a physician, he’d be The Specialist, a heart surgeon, possibly, whose expertise and acumen is unmatched from Chong Hua to St. Luke’s to The John’s Hopkins to Cebu Doc.

“Never,” said writer Jon Wertheim of Sports Illustrated when asked if he has seen a better clay-court player. “Nadal comes off as a laid-back guy. He doesn’t say anything provocative on purpose. But mentally he’s a beast. This was a revenge match for him, whether he wanted to admit it or not. It must be so demoralizing to play against a guy who’s so much better defensively and just chases down everything. You could see it in the match today but you see it every time he plays. He beats you down mentally as much as anything he does physically.”

Take, as an example, one point in last Sunday’s final against Robin Soderling. They name it the Point of the Match. I call it the Moment of the Tournament. Having won the first set, 6-4, Nadal was down a break point trailing 0-1 in the second set. If Soderling wins the point, he leads 2-0 with the pendulum called Momentum having shifted to the Swede. In that point, Soderling hits a bullet crosscourt backhand to win the point! The crowd gasps, applauding. Game, Soderling!!! It’s 2-0. But, wait. Nadal sprints all the way left, his body no longer seen on TV because he’s so far off the court; inexplicably, he retrieves the ball… the point’s still alive!!! Soderling is in disbelief, yet still attacks. Nadal is defensive. Then, a shot here and there after, Nadal is on the offense, attacking the net, capturing the point with a deft drop volley. In one single episode, Nadal transforms a sure break point to A Broken Soderling: From that point on, Rafa wins six of the next seven games to win Set Two, 6-2. Minutes later, dejected and tired, Soderling quits. He loses the third, 6-4.

Do you feel like the best ever on clay now? Nadal was asked in the post-match press conference.

“No. No, I sure that the numbers are unbelievable for me, no?” he answered, making sure to say “No” thrice. “I never thought to have the chance to win this tournament, five titles, five times or Monte Carlo six or Barcelona five, I think, too, or Rome for me five. For me, that’s more than a dream. When I see these titles and these numbers, for me is amazing. I don’t know how I did.”

We can enlist a slew of adjectives about the five-time French Open champ—this King of Clay applauded by the Queen of Spain—adjectives like “relentless,” “sturdy,” “unyielding” and “valiant,” but here’s one more I’d like to stress: “humble.”

Isn’t this delightful? Against the backdrop of an egoistic jerk like Floyd Mayweather, Jr., you’ve got Nadal. And Federer. Two No. 1s, two gentlemen.

“But first of all, you gonna be very arrogant if I say for myself I am the best of the history,” continued Nadal in the press-con. “Second thing, I don’t believe I am the best of the history. I try my best every day, and we will see when I finish my career. I not gonna be who decide if I am the best or not. You maybe, but not me, sure.”

Kobe Bryant and his golden Los Angeles

I used to idolize Michael Jordan. Who didn’t? But when he retired the Chicago Bulls jersey, then, after he stopped wearing the Washington Wizards uniform, my interest in the NBA faded. Then LeBron James arrived. Here was Air Jordan’s Heir. Yet, after seven years and numerous Most Valuable trophies collected, he has zero titles; LBJ is no MJ.

Kobe Bryant is. Though, in his own words, he admonishes the comparison. “I don’t want to be the next Michael Jordan,” he said. “I only want to be Kobe Bryant.”

What a performance thus far by the 6-foot-6, 205-lb. “NBA Player of the Decade” from 2000-09, as named by TNT and Sporting News. In Game 1 of the NBA Finals, Kobe showed the world his Barack Obama-like leadership acumen on the basketball court. He scored 30. He blocked Tony Allen’s shot. He sprinted to dunk an alley hoop seconds later. He banged a three-pointer to lift his Los Angeles city to a 102-point haul. He rebounded seven times, assisted on six, made 9 of 10 free throws, and caused frown lines on millions of Celtics fans worldwide.

Kobe Bryant is. For here’s one lesson I’ve learned from watching KB24—a life lesson that we can all use: “He who wants it more, gets it.” Get it? I repeat: Nobody in the NBA wants that title more than Kobe… and that’s why he’ll get it.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to win games, whether it’s sitting on a bench waving a towel, handing a cup of water to a teammate, or hitting the game-winning shot,” Kobe was once quoted.

Amazing, right? For herein lies his secret—and the secret of life: The man who wins is the one who thinks he can. The man who, like the 31-year-old Kobe, has more enthusiasm, more vitality and will, more eagerness and zest and spirit than anybody else… wins.

Kobe Bryant is. That’s who he is. That’s why he’s won four times and will add another. It’s called focus. It’s named tenacity. At one episode in Game 1, the comedian Chris Rock, one of Hollywood’s most celebrated, sat beside Kobe in the front row and kept on talking to him, clowning around, dishing out tips and words. Kobe’s reaction? None. He hardly noticed the superstar. His eyes and mind and focus were serious, all zoomed in towards one goal: winning the ballgame.

“I’m chasing perfection,” he once said. Yup. True. In this case, Kobe’s definition of chasing “perfection” is chasing “a fifth NBA championship.” He longs for L.A. to win their 16th title and move them just one behind Boston’s record of 17.

He who wants it more, gets it. What a lesson Kobe is demonstrating to his audience. From the stern look on his game face to his three-point-shots despite the in-his-face defense to his fist-pumping, Kobe shows us that he wants it more than Pierce or KG or Rajon.

“Some are destined to succeed, some are determined to succeed.” I like that quotation. I’m sure jersey No. 23 does, too. For this word—Determination—is Kobe Bean Bryant’s middle name. It’s embedded in his system. It’s the reason why, failure after failure—a rape case in 2003 that nearly collapsed his life and reputation, an embarrassing Game 6 finals loss of 39 points to Boston in 2008—he’s able to overcome the challenges.

“Everything negative – pressure, challenges – is all an opportunity for me to rise,” is another of Kobe’s more popular Quotable Quotes.

Kobe Bryant is. He’s the reason why the team in gold will win gold.

Scanning the sports horizon for athletes with similar conviction and single-mindedness, I can think of one other today. He, too, embraces the motto, “He who’s more determined, triumphs.” And, like Kobe, who’s gunning for his 5th NBA crown, this man, tonight at 9 p.m. in our Cebu cable TVs, will aim for his 5th crown in Paris. Watch for Pau Gasol’s countryman from Spain to win the French Open.

At Roland G., it’s Robin versus Rafa minus Roger

Only four men are left in the men’s draw of the 2010 French Open. Robin Soderling and Thomas Berdych occupy the upper half; if the odds are followed, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic, who brawled against opposing players last night, will meet in the other semifinals. Looking ahead to this Sunday, it’s expected to be another R & R finale. Only this time, the reigning Roland Garros winner codenamed “FED” will be missing.

(AP Photo/Michel Euler)

What a match the duo played two nights ago. I hope you saw it. In the first set, Federer was impeccable. He won 6-3. In Set 2, he was broken in his first service game, trailed 2-0, then promptly lost 3-6 to Mr. Soderling. In the third set, Roger owned a set point against Robin with the score, 5-4, but—in what turned out to be the point of the match—his opponent saved that game. At 5-all, it rained in Paris. I slept in Cebu. It was nearly midnight. Then, my text-mate that evening, Sun.Star’s Executive Editor Michelle So, sent me a message that my phone captured at 1:48 a.m. Reading it when I awoke at 5:37 yesterday morning, the message was succinct: “RF lost. 6-3, 3-6, 5-7, 4-6.” My guess is, Michelle, the leader of the RF Fans Club of Cebu, if ever there was a group, had trouble sleeping after RF’s exit in France.

But what a performance by this Swede nicknamed Soderking. (True: He sawed-off ‘d King.) Robin slammed the ball from his slingshot forehand to Roger’s backhand, drilled a down-the-line backhand, served a 240-kph ace, he played fearless, never, for a moment, intimidated thinking that across the net was The Greatest Of All Time.

Soderling’s offensive gunfire against Federer was the same Robin Hood-like barrage of arrows he unleashed on Nadal last year. Both victories were monumental, said top tennis scribe Jon Wertheim of Sports Illustrated: “I can’t think of two bigger clay-court upsets in the last, say, 20 years. Those are two just massive wins, but you have to follow it up. We’ll hold off on the Hall of Fame plaques until he wins a major, but those are just two monstrous wins on clay in back-to-back years.”

(AP Photo/Christophe Ena)

Peter Bodo, in his blog at Tennis.Com and a story he titled, “K.I.S.S. Revised” (the KISS stands for Keep It Simple, Soderling), added: “The main difference, in the big picture, was that Soderling reached out aggressively to take the match, and he did that from start to finish. Meanwhile, Federer did a fair impersonation of Hamlet, his game fading in and out like the signal from a distant radio. More and more, it looks as if Federer is not really playing to win, the way a Soderling is in these upward arcing days of his career.

“It seems that Federer is playing not to lose. He’s doing a fair job of that, hanging in, fending off, snarling and snapping like a captive wolf in a cage. But Federer doesn’t seem to seek the freedom represented by victory, or triumph over his captors and adversaries. He doesn’t appear to want to attack, break through, run like the wind and distance himself from his tormentors.

“The question, going into this event, was whether Federer would muster the focus, hunger, and determination that seems to have been in remission since he won the Australian Open. Did he have a stock game for most tournaments and a custom one for majors? Unfortunately for Federer, Soderling was the most dangerous of opponents to entrust with those questions. He asked them all, and we all saw the answers.”

The final question, of course, is this: Who will win on Sunday? If Robin meets Rafa, can last year’s tormentor, who inflicted RN’s first-ever loss at the French Open, win again? Given his thrashing of Roger, will Soderling’s all-power assault once more punish Nadal? Consider that the 6-foot-4 Robin is at his all-time peak in world ranking (No.7) and confidence. Or will Rafa, now fully-healed of injuries and having won three Masters Series clay-court events leading to Paris, avenge his 2009 loss to Robin?

The answer—like the Lakers vs. Celtics dispute—is coming soon.

(AP Photo/Christophe Ena)

Boston versus Los Angeles: This is it!

Kobe Bryant is not Michael Jordan. But he’s getting close. With Kobe’s fifth NBA ring just four games away, he’s nearing MJ’s record of six NBA crowns. And, in the much-debated Kobe vs. LeBron contest, we know who’s the true season MVP. One is at home wearing pajamas; the other is playing on Friday.

“Kobe is so good, he makes incredible normal for us [and] those that are around him,” said Lamar Odom. “He spins away from a double team, leans back and hits those medium range jumpers. He uses his footwork to free himself while he’s double-teamed. There aren’t too many players in the history of the NBA that can make those plays. I always commend Kobe for his competitiveness, his preciseness, the way he studies the game and his goal as far as being the best player ever.”

Incredible made Normal. Opposite words turned into synonyms by Mr. Bryant. This series, he’s been Jordanesque; making 52.1 percent of all his shots, and averaging 33.7 points, 7.2 rebounds, 8.3 assists. Don’t those numbers remind us of MJ? Here’s more: He scored 30 or more points in 10 of his team’s last 11 games. Plus, if you watched Game 6 two days ago, you will never forget the one shot that caught us in disbelief: Facing Grant Hall on the three-point-line with 34 seconds left, he fired a jaw-dropping shot that blackened the sun of Phoenix.

Incredible is Normal. “He’s one of the very few guys that I have seen play that literally can will the ball in the basket,” said Derek Fisher. “He has the ability to lock in on the rim.”

Like an F-16 jet with laser-guided missiles that “locks-in” and rarely misses the target, so is Kobe. When the ball leaves his fingers, there’s a magnet attached to it that forces the object to swoosh inside the ring’s middle.

“Hey, I’ve known him all his life, since he was about 16,’’ said Phoenix coach Alvin Gentry. “I’ve always been a big fan of his. He knows that. He probably solidified my thought process as to he’s the best basketball player right now.’’

Ouch, LeBron. Beware, MJ. Which brings us to The Finals. It’s the Rivalry of Rivalries. It’s the Yankees vs. the Red Sox, Ali fighting Frazier, Borg-McEnroe, Prost vs. Senna. For no two NBA teams have won more, loath each other more… than Gold vs. Green. The NBA Finals have been contested 63 times and, on 32 occasions, either Boston or L.A. has triumphed.

Starting 1959, they’ve met 12 times in The Finals. In that era, the Celtics beat the Minneapolis Lakers for the first of their eight straight NBA crowns. Those were the 1960s when Jerry West guarded Bob Cousy.

In the 1980s, we remember what transpired: Magic Johnson faced Larry Bird three times, with his Lakers victorious twice. That last game was in 1987. Then, 21 years after, the courtship happened again. This time, in 2008, it was the league’s MVP in Kobe vs. The Big Three of Boston. Against an impenetrable defense, Green beat Gold, 4-2.

And, now. This. Friday, 9 a.m., Cebu time. The Rematch. The Revenge. The Rebirth of a Rivalry. Call it what you may, but KB24 calls it by another name. “It’s a sexy matchup,” he said.

Sexy? Ha-ha. I hope he’s not reminding us all of his past “sins.” But Kobe’s telling the truth: In Los Angeles, it’s a world of glamour, glitz, Greta Garbo. It’s Hollywood. In Boston, it’s cold and hostile territory for the Californians.

What does Phil Jackson have to say? “We remember more than anything losing on our home court, a situation where we had some defensive lapses and they took advantage of it,” he said. “This year we have home-court advantage, and we look forward to the rematch with great intensity.”

Home court advantage, in politics or sport, is an advantage. This time, the Lakers want to score early. And, with the 2-3-2 format, those first two games are at the Staples Center. If LA wins those, they’ve got momentum. If Boston steals one in The City of Freddie Roach, it’s Advantage, Celtics.

Like you, I can’t wait for Friday.

Scorching hot in Phoenix, can the Suns win?

Ninety four teams have attempted to come back from a 0-3 deficit in the NBA and 94 have lost. That number includes yesterday’s loser, the Orlando Magic. Don’t tell the Men In Blue they didn’t try. They did. In Games 4 and 5, their vacation plans were readied by the Boston Celtics. But Dwight Howard, Vince Carter and Co. fought. They forced a Game 6. Sadly, that’s as far as they were allowed by this unstoppable Green Machine whose bloodline includes Larry Bird and Bob Cousy.

BEAT LA! Did you see that banner? One Celtics fan raised up high that poster in yesterday’s NBA Eastern Conference finale. He’s right. For who, but the boys in Gold-and-Blue, does Boston want to face? LeBron James they’ve ousted in the quarterfinals, last year’s conference champs—the Magic—they’ve outclassed in the semifinals, now it’s time for The Super Bowl of the NBA, the Oscars Night of dribbling, basketball’s Wimbledon final.

Ponder on this for a moment: Which team, apart from a LeBron against Kobe face-to-face, would we all want to see? Orlando vs. Phoenix? Nah. Zzzz. Sure, those two have their admirers but they’re nowhere near the zealots of Lakers vs. Celtics.

It’s like boxing. Mayweather against Mosley was thrilling; Pacquiao versus Clottey was crazy inside the Cowboys Stadium. But those fights were mere rehearsals. They were preliminaries. The show we all await to see—in November—is Manny beating Money.

Same with tennis. A Djokovic – Murray final at the ongoing French Open won’t prevent you and I from watching next Sunday; but that’s boring. We anticipate that. Nothing beats Federer and Nadal.

Just like the NBA. No two teams are as opposite, no two squads have as much historical pedigree and will bring more eyeballs to watch than the upcoming Final.

BEAT LA! But, wait. While it’s Mission Accomplished for Boston, it’s still Mission To-Be-Accomplished for LA. Up against the Phoenix Suns this 8:30 a.m. (RP time), they’re facing Steve Nash who predicted, “We’re going home and win Game 6 and come back in Game 7.” That’s confidence. That’s the voice of a two-time Most Valuable Player.

BEAT LA! That, too, is the chant of the Suns today: to scorch, burn, light aflame Los Angeles when they set foot inside the US Airways Center in Arizona. This contest is terrific: Pitted are Nash, the 2005 and 2006 MVP, against a one-time MVP in Kobe (2008). Nash is Canadian; Bryant is as American as Barack Obama.

No doubt, the Lakers will attempt to finish their Western Conference series today. With Boston’s Paul Pierce and Rajon Rondo to watch their game with both feet up on a chair, with masseurs massaging their stiff backs—they’re fully relaxed—it’s still a work day for the Lakers. And if LA loses Game 6, it’s a pressure-packed Game 7… while Boston is getting those foot massages.

Phoenix? Despite on the precipice of losing the series, they’re undaunted. Here’s why: In this LA-Phoenix series, the home team has won every single game. Plus, the Suns have won their last six consecutive playoff games at home. Will it be 7-0 for Amare Stoudemire?

“We don’t plan on going to Phoenix and losing three times on their home court,” said LA coach Phil Jackson. “We’re not making this trip over there just to fill a date. We’re going over there to win a game. We’re highly motivated for this game, but we understand that if it has to go seven, we’re damn well ready to come back home and defend our home court again. This is a series that has taken a lot of different faces to it in the course of these five games, and we don’t expect Game 6 to be any different.”

My prediction? BEAT LA! No, not for the Lakers to lose this morning, as I’m no fan of the Suns—though it would be a perfect reward for them, after four decades in the league, to finally win an NBA Championship—I’d want for that Boston Celtics fan holding that “BEAT LA” banner to hold it aloft once more… against Los Angeles.

Cebu Marathon 2011: Prepare for it!

The most popular sport in the Philippines today, Cebu included, is not basketball or Bata Reyes’ game or football or Manny Pacquiao’s sport, it’s the one that you and I and tens of thousands of others perform at 6 a.m. in Abellana or late evenings at the Asiatown I.T. Park, it’s the one sport that has convinced many a Saturday-night-partygoer to arise at dawn on Sunday to wear shorts, to tie those shoelaces and to run.

Has there been a drug that’s more addictive than running? A sweat-inducing activity that’s invigorated 61-year-olds and hardened 16-year-olds? A sport that has coerced thousands to enlist last Sunday, this Sunday, and next Sunday to join 5Ks, 10Ks and 3Ks? A routine that’s habit-forming, strolling inside RUNNR in Ayala or Mizuno and Nike Stadium in SM each time we step inside the mall?

I’ve seen badminton flourish. I’ve observed golfers enlarge in numbers. I’ve witnessed footballers multiply among the elementary students. But, compared to today, they’re nowhere as near as the multitude of runners and the frequency of events held (often twice) on Sunday mornings.

What’s different with running is this: It’s free. The air is free, the cement road is free, the friends you run with (unless you make bangka after each run) are free for you to enjoy. This is an inexpensive sport.

Running is also this: it’s social. It’s the Facebook of sports. When you run with your barkada, they run beside you. The more you group together, the more you run; the more you run, the more friends you meet, the bigger the social network.

Running is the best way to lose weight. This is a fact. No other sport burns more calories than throwing your weight forward, one leg in front of the other at a time.

Best of all, running creates… Momentum. Like everybody else, when you start, you gasp for air, your muscles ache, your first-ever 3K run is painful. This is normal. But, if you keep on pushing, you’ll soon realize that 30 minutes is a cinch. Then, 40 minutes is effortless. You progress. A 5K run? Ah, you say, kaya ra! After… you do the distance that you never thought possible when you started: 25 loops around the oval of the Cebu City Sports Center. That’s 10 kilometers. For beginners, I can never run that far, is the thought. But, as you progress — as one gains Momentum — the 10K test is passed.

So herein lies the secret of running: You target farther… and target farther… and farther… from 3 to 5 to 10 to 12 to 16… the next thing you realize, after six months, you’re aiming for that 21K.

Which brings me to the ultimate distance: 26.2 miles. It’s called the Marathon. And, by this term “marathon,” I don’t mean, like others say it, “I’ll run a 5K marathon!” That’s incorrect. The marathon has one unique number: 42.195. That’s in kilometers. And every runner, even if you’re just a 3K Fun Runner today, should aim — at least once in your life — to complete a marathon.

My suggestion? Being biased because I’m with the Cebu Executive Runners Club (CERC), the organizers of this mega-event, I propose you run our own race. Before flying to HK or Singapore, why not, in the comforts of your own asphalted road, run in Cebu. And so, I’m pleased to announce the date of the Cebu Marathon: it’s on January 9, 2011. (We wanted Jan. 11, 2011 to make it “1-11-11” but that’s a Tuesday!)

The 2011 Cebu Marathon is seven months away. Why announce it now? Because it’s not your ordinary 10K. “To describe the agony of a marathon to someone who’s never run it,” said the Canadian runner Jerome Drayton, “is like trying to explain color to someone who was born blind.”

That’s true. I’ve ran three marathons and finished only two; in my first, in Hong Kong, I succumbed to cramps and knee injuries. And so, to attempt a 42K run — the distance from Capitol to Carcar — one must prepare. And seven months preparation time, even for one who’s a 10K finisher today, is sufficient. How to train? I’ll save that for a future column. But, for now, the challenge is before you: See you in January.

Cebuana Lhuiller Men’s Open is our Roland Garros

If you love tennis, this week is your week. When you switch on the Samsung TV, red clay is on SkyCable’s channel 33. It’s the French Open. It’s the only major played on the planet’s slowest surface. Five-hour-long matches that put you to sleep? White socks stained by dirt that turn into brown? Dust flying? Sweat flooding the tennis rectangle? These are all common. It’s Roland Garros.

In Cebu, this week is the same. It’s the annual Cebuana Lhuillier Men’s Open at the Baseline tennis courts. The surface? The same as France. Only, it’s “mestizo” colored, not red. But it’s similar: clay-court.

Roger Federer is the men’s No.1. He’s the French Open defending champion. Same with ours. Johnny Arcilla is RP’s numero uno. He’s the C. Lhuillier winner in 2009.

In Paris, the matches are scheduled to suit us, the Filipino TV audience. Consider that the first match begins around 5 p.m. (RP time) and the games last past midnight. Isn’t this perfect for us?

Here in the Queen City of the South, the country’s top men’s players begin work at 9 a.m. today. Arcilla plays first. He’s seeded one. The whole day today, tomorrow, until Sunday, it’s all-volleys, all-forehands, all-day-long.

I know someone who’ll be all-smiling. Atty. Frank Malilong, my idol on these Sun.Star pages, who calls Baseline his tennis home. He’ll watch the games daily. Same on TV: he’ll cheer for this player family-named Nadal (ever heard of him?) who, like Frank, is left-handed and generates tremendous topspin off his ground-strokes.

PJ Tierro, the 6-foot-1 Filipino tennis star is also in Cebu. Late yesterday afternoon at Baseline, still dripping from sweat after a backhand workout, we talked. He’s confident. And eager to avenge his twin losses here to Johnny A.: at last year’s Cebuana Lhuillier final and, just two weeks ago, at the Mandaue Men’s Open. Watch for PJ.

Back to Roland Garros, the question most often asked is this: Who’s your pick, R or R? I say Roger. I say Rafael. It’s hard to pick between the duo. First, you’ve got two of the nicest human beings alive. Unlike the days of McEnroe or Nastase or Connors, here are the most humble and courteous superstars who, in case we forget, won 18 of the last 20 Grand Slam singles titles. Yes. Roger collared 12; Rafa, 6 — starting from the 2005 French Open that Nadal won until last January’s 2010 Australian Open, won by the Swiss. What a one-two, combination-domination by R-R.

But pressed to pick the winner next Sunday? Ha-ha. Never the gambler, I choose R. I mean Rafa. How can you argue against a four-time French Open winner who won three Masters clay-court titles the past month? I know Mrs. Chinggay Utzurrum, the most avid of Federer fans who prays the rosary while Roger plays, will disagree with me. For this is the beauty of this rivalry: it’s even. Roger has his millions of devotees while Rafa has his zealots. They, too, number in the millions. Let’s hope, before we argue, that, in this 128-man draw, one Swiss and a Spaniard meet.

Volleying back to Cebu: Apart from the men’s open which features all the country’s best, there’ll be an age-group tournament. No, this isn’t your usual 18 years and under age-group. It’s for adults. Three categories are open to all doubles players: 35-and-older, 40-, and 45-and-above. Registration is for free. Just visit Baseline today to enlist; the event begins tomorrow. All thanks to Jun and April Toledo, the organizers, for bringing this spectacle each summer to Cebu — and to Jean Henri Lhuillier, the former U.S. varsity college player, for supporting the sport he loves most.

Again, whether it’s Paris on TV or our local boys at Baseline, what a smashing week to come.

Re-Cycled: Lance Armstrong was on drugs

Alongside Michael Jordan, the sportsman I admire most wears yellow. I own his Nike watch. Several Armstrong books adorn my mini-library. A pair of sunglasses with his signature I’ve purchased. That yellow band with the “LIVESTRONG” name? I’ve collected those long before Noynoy Aquino’s crusade.

Lance’s story — a 22-year-old champion stricken by testicular cancer that had metastasized to his lungs and brain only to defeat the Big C bastard and climb back the saddle to pedal and win seven Tour de France crowns — is better than Hollywood. It’s true. Quite possibly, it is the most powerful story in all of sports. Ever.

That’s why, three days ago, when Floyd Landis, the former teammate of Armstrong, emerged with the story that implicated Lance as a drug cheat… this was explosive.

Not that these drug allegations are new. Since Lance won his first LeTour in 1999, drug issues have hounded his yellow jersey like a black shadow. Hundreds of “Lance Is A Cheat” exposes have, like Robin Hood’s arrow, targeted him in the past. But, let’s remember: not once has Mr. Armstrong — the most drug-tested athlete on earth — tested positive. Ever.

Still, this revelation by Landis is damaging. For three years starting 2002, Floyd with Lance was like Scottie Pippen to Michael Jordan. He was, to borrow a cliche, Lance’s “right hand man.” They were not only buddies, they were US Postal Service team partners. Floyd would pedal ferociously up the Pyrenees mountains while Lance rode behind. Then, like a dutiful servant, Floyd would give way as The Yellow Master overtook and zoomed to the finish line first. Floyd was Robin. Batman was Lance.

What did Landis reveal 72 hours ago? In emails that he circulated and a phone call to an ESPN writer, he announced: 1) That he was a drug cheat, 2) that Lance was the same and, worse, taught him and others to use testosterone patches, blood transfusions and EPO, 3) that their teammates did the same, and 4) that officials and governing bodies were paid to quiet the story.

Given Landis’ stardom status — he won the ’06 TdF — this revelation was tantamount to the Watergate scandal that evicted U.S. Pres. Richard Nixon. This was very, very, very explosive.

Well, yes… and no. For here’s the problem: While the message may be explosive, the messenger is “damaged goods.” Landis is one man whose honesty is loaded with… dishonesty. Consider these facts: After lab tests revealed that Floyd took drugs during his 2006 victory in France, he did what any dishonest man often does: deny, deny, deny. He wrote a book, “Positively False: The Real Story Of How I Won The Tour.” He launched a fund-raising campaign that collected $1 million to pay for his lawyers. He appeared on Larry King Live and, with a serious face that made me and millions of others believe him, said “I’m honest.” Well, didn’t Ferdinand Marcos say the same?

“If there was one word I could walk away with that sums this all up its ‘Credibility,'” said Armstrong, hours after the news surfaced. “Floyd lost his credibility a long time ago. You’ve got someone who’s been under oath with a completely different version, someone who wrote a book with a completely different version… He has said he has no proof. It’s his word versus ours … and we like our word.”

Lance has a point. But here’s the biggest problem of them all: We don’t know whom to trust. Ben Johnson said he never did drugs. He did. Marion Jones cried oceans and said she never injected. She did. Roger Clemens never took steroids. He did. Landis said he never took EPO. He did.

Lance Armstrong? Like many of you, I hope — for mankind’s sake — that he is honest. I hope he did not inject. I hope he is yellow clean. Because if he’s not, then who, in this universe, can we trust?

Which brings me to the advocacy of the Catholic community that I belong to — the Brotherhood of Christian Businessmen and Professionals (BCBP) — which sums this story best:

Green vs. Yellow

Now that LeBron James is asleep, it’s time to expect an L.A. vs. Boston finale. This isn’t too bad an ending. For while we all predicted LBJ to hoist that NBA trophy and point it upwards to the Quicken Loans Arena ceiling in Cleveland, we’re now about to feast on a sight that’s even more savory: the greatest rivalry in all of basketball.

Who’s my pick between Green vs. Yellow? (Gibo v. Noynoy?) While my favorite color is green, I’ve always been a Lakers fan. I grew up in the 1970s and ‘80s idolizing Magic Johnson’s 6-foot-9 large-frame parting the Celtics defense like Moses. Kareem Abdul-Jabaar, Pat Riley, Kurt Rambis, James Worthy… those are names that are forever etched in my mind’s memory bank.

I like the Lakers. And though they’re the reigning NBA champs, beating Ranjo Rondo and the Big Three of Paul Pierce, Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen will be a struggle for the boys from the City of Freddie Roach.

Roland G.

Another rivalry, after the two previous ones I enumerated—PSC vs. POC and the Celtivs vs. the Lakers—is the one that will smash our TV screens starting this Sunday. It’s tennis. It’s Paris. It’s one of the four Grand Slams. It’s Rafa against Roger. It’s the French Open.

To tennis buffs like Bob Lozada, Michelle So, Fabby Borromeo, Emma Siao, Reneeven Polinar, Ernie Delco and the thousands of others from Cebu who move their eyes left-right, left-right, left-right while watching TV tennis… the left-right action is back. The Rivalry is back. It started last Sunday when R & R met in Madrid. It began at Wimbledon when they met thrice in the finals. It heated up Down Under, in Australia.

When the French Open (Roland Garros) begins this weekend and operates for two weeks, all eyes will be on the two 6-foot-1, Nike endorsers.