2010 – Page 17 – Cebu Sports Blog by John Pages

Despite the blunder, MVP is still the MVP

Manny V. Pangilinan is MVP. He’s the Most Valuable Pinoy. For few people, in business, in sports, in philanthropy, have done more for our nation than MVP.

Yet, for all the man’s successes, he is fallible. MVP made a mistake. A shameful and embarrassing one when, last March 27, he delivered the commencement address at the Ateneo.

MVP’s bungle? He plagiarized. Quoting paragraphs from Oprah Winfrey, Barack Obama, J.K. Rowling and Conan O’Brien, he failed to acknowledge the authors. Days after, Facebook users exposed the flaw and MVP resigned as chairman of the board of Ateneo.

Ouch. Has MVP become the Most Vilified Person? Has my admiration for him diminished? No, no. For here’s what MVP did: He acted. As soon as he uncovered the fault, he apologized. He quit as ADMU chairman. How many of our leader-politicians, I ask, given the same circumstances, are willing to resign? When humiliated, when mistaken, when the verdict is obvious that a blunder was made—how many of our leaders are willing to say sorry?

Few. That’s because many are “bagang-nawong.” Not MVP. He displayed a trait we often heard during sermons last week: Humility.

“He is truly a man of principles, dignity, integrity and humility… a true MVP,” wrote Me-anne Alcordo Solomon, in Facebook. “What happened could happen to anyone of his stature where considering his busy schedule, had the speech made by a ghostwriter and yet MVP takes full responsibility. In my book, MVP will always be the MVP and the incident doesn’t diminish my respect for him. I was doubly blessed that day seeing my son among the graduates and hearing MVP speak. He spoke true to his last words ‘that like the tadpole, he dropped his tail and jumped out of the swamp.’”

My hope? Not that the Ateneo board will decline his resignation—for MVP himself, I’m sure, given the embarrassment, will insist on being “out.” My hope is that all of us, from ordinary folks to top executives, will learn from MVP’s behavior.

He did not hide. He did not delay. He did not rationalize. He did not even lay the blame on his speechwriter (whom I can only describe as… tanga). Like a true leader who knows “command responsibility,” he accepted his fault and said sorry.

The speech itself? Even deleting the “copy-pasted” words, it was funny and insightful. The most important lesson of the 1,892-worded speech—ironically—was on failure.

“On this wonderful day when you stand on the threshold of what is called real life, it is – ironically – the best time to talk about failure,” he said. “Nobody‘s life is seamless or smooth. We all stumble. We all have setbacks. If things go wrong, you hit a dead end – as you will, many times in your life – it‘s just life‘s way of saying – time to change course. Now I cannot tell you that failure is fun. Periods of failure in my life were dark ones. I’ve had a lot of success. But I’ve had a lot of failures. I’ve looked good. I’ve looked bad. I’ve been praised and criticized. And it hurt like hell. But my mistakes have been necessary. I had no idea how far the tunnel of failure extended. And any light at the end of it seemed more hope than reality…

“The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you can be secure in your ability to survive. You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life, my career and, most importantly, my moral values. So graduates, always remember this – success is never final. Failure is never fatal. It is courage that counts.”

Sports? “Don’t forget that you have a body under your toga,” he said. “Take good care of it. Engage in sports. It‘s fun, and it is a laboratory for victory and adversity. How an athlete celebrates his triumphs, or overcomes defeat or injury, how he deals with a hostile crowd or a critical media, reflects what life is all about. Indeed, sports offers a richness all its own – it is a metaphor for life.”

Manny V. Pangilian Commencement Address

School of Humanities & School of Social Sciences?Ateneo de Manila University, Quezon City? 4:00 p.m., Saturday, 27th March 2010

Magandang hapon sa inyong lahat. I want to thank Father Ben and the Ateneo community for the honor of this doctorate degree. And congratulations to our Law School for having 7 of the 11 – ten topnotchers – in the recent bar exams!

Father Nebres, Father Magadia, trustees, faculty and staff, parents and siblings, graduates of 2010 – many congratulations. Thank you so much for this gift of fellowship with the sesquicentennial class. You‘ve earned your diploma from a great learning institution, and you have every right to be proud. I have wracked my mind and heart with what I should say today. The weeks of fear and worry at the thought of giving this commencement address have made me lose weight, and sleep. And I‘ve asked myself, what I wish I had known at my own graduation day 44 years ago.

The sad truth is that I don‘t even remember who the speaker was at my graduation, or a single word that was said. So I begin these remarks with the expectation that I will soon be forgotten. I‘ve been cautioned that on an occasion as this, graduates are only thinking one of the following thoughts: one – I hope these ceremonies finish soon because I can‘t wait to take my vacation. Two – inspire me please. There aren‘t too many doing that these days. Three – If MVP stops talking before I stop listening, I‘ll give him a big applause. Four –If you hand out free tickets to the Justin Timberlake concert tonight, we‘d give you a standing ovation. Yes, I’m happy to say that Smart will be giving away four free tickets right after this ceremony! Now that you‘ve been sufficiently humored and bribed, let me earn my honorary degree, and turn thoughtful and traditional. More to do, more to achieve I come here today with the thought that despite what may seem to be the culmination of a successful life with this honorary degree, there‘s still much to do. I come to say that one‘s title, even an honor like this, says little about how well one‘s life has been led –that no matter how much you‘ve done, or how successful you‘ve been, there‘s always more to learn, more to do, more to accomplish. So I want to say to all of you, that despite your remarkable achievement, you too cannot rest on your laurels.

Some graduating classes in the past have marched into this place in times of peace and progress. In those easy times, we could have called on you to keep things merely going, and not screw things up. But we‘re gathered here at a time of trial and transition, not only for this country but also for the world. Our economy slowed down last year because of a global recession – the result, in part, of greed and irresponsibility that rippled out from Wall Street. We continue to spend beyond our means. We avoid making the tough, unpopular choices. And in 44 days, we will elect a new set of national and local leaders. For all of you, these challenges are felt now in more immediate and personal terms. You will soon be looking for a job – struggling to figure out which career makes sense in this economy of ours. Maybe you have loans, and are worried how you‘ll pay them down. Maybe you‘ve got a family to help. Maybe you‘re asking how your siblings can have an Ateneo education like you had. Against these issues, you may be tempted to fall back on the more visible markers of success — by chasing the usual brass rings. How much money you make, a fancy title or a nice car. Being on the roster of the ?rich and famous (or the ?most invited) guest list. But the choice of form over substance, fame over character, short-term gain over long-term goal is precisely what your generation needs to end.

Defining success
Coming from the Ateneo, I know that the pressure to succeed is immense. In fact, your biggest liability is the need to succeed. And your biggest fear must be the fear of failure. But first, let me define what success is. Let me tell you, money‘s pretty cool. I‘m not going to stand here and tell you that‘s it‘s not about money, because money is sweet. I like money. It‘s good for buying companies and things – and for putting up a few buildings here and there for Ateneo. But having a lot of money does not totally make you a successful person. What you want is both money and meaning. You want your life and your career to be meaningful. Because meaning is what brings real richness to your life, to be surrounded by people you can truly work with – because you trust and treasure them, and they cherish you in return. That‘s when you‘re really rich, that‘s when you really succeed.

Fear of failure
Let me now deal with failure. On this wonderful day when you stand on the threshold of what is called ?real life, it is – ironically – the best time to talk about failure. Nobody‘s life is seamless or smooth. We all stumble. We all have setbacks. If things go wrong, you hit a dead end – as you will, many times in your life – it‘s just life‘s way of saying – time to change course. Now I cannot tell you that failure is fun. Periods of failure in my life were dark ones. I‘ve had a lot of success. But I‘ve had a lot of failures. I‘ve looked good. I‘ve looked bad. I‘ve been praised and criticized. And it hurt like hell. But my mistakes have been necessary. I had no idea how far the tunnel of failure extended. And any light at the end of it seemed more hope than reality.

Now let me tell you about some of my biggest failures.
In 1995, first pacific invested in telecommunications in India at a time when the industry there was just getting started. Under the laws of India, foreign investors are allowed to own not more than 49% of a local telco. So we invited an Indian partner to hold the 51% majority. You all know how capital intensive the telco business is. To our utmost regret, our partner could not provide the counterpart capital. The relationship soured, and we had to sell the business. Since then, India‘s telecoms industry has grown exponentially. So we lost significant value by divesting. If we had managed to retain this business, I would not need to make a living giving graduation speeches. But I have had personal failures as well.
I will now let you in on a well-kept secret. I was in 4th year high school in San Beda College, and was in contention to be valedictorian that year. It was an open secret that majority of my classmates were cheating –changing answers from true to false, ironically, in our religion exams. I felt I had to do the same to protect my grades. Several of us were caught – pero ako ang pinag-initan. I knew I was wrong, and deserved to be punished. Indeed, San Beda stripped me of all my honors. Finally, with the suspicion about rampant cheating, I was asked by the principal to name names. I refused. I disappointed my parents deeply. It took many years for the pain and bitterness to heal. Several years ago, I thought it was time to free myself from the rancor and memory of that experience. What better proof of reconciliation with San Beda than the 3 NCAA championships for the Red Lions?

Failure taught me lessons about myself that I could have learned no other way. I discovered that I had a strong will, and more discipline than I had imagined: I also found out that I had parents whose value was truly priceless. The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you can be secure in your ability to survive. You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life, my career and, most importantly, my moral values. So graduates, always remember this – success is never final. Failure is never fatal. It is courage that counts. MVP‘s lessons for life as I come near the end of my remarks, let me wrap up with some old-fashioned, feel-good graduation advice:

First, hug and kiss those who helped get you to this day – parents, grandparents, friends, teachers. If you’re too shy or uptight to do that, please do the old fashioned handshake thing. But I recommend a hug and a kiss. Don’t let the sun go down today without saying thank you to someone.

Second, don’t forget that you have a body under your toga. Take good care of it. Engage in sports. It‘s fun, and it is a laboratory for victory and adversity. How an athlete celebrates his triumphs, or overcomes defeat or injury, how he deals with a hostile crowd or a critical media, reflects what life is all about. Indeed, sports offers a richness all its own – it is a metaphor for life.

Third, remember you have brains under that mortarboard. You‘ve been running it like crazy for four years, whining about all the books you’ve had to read, the papers you’ve had to write, the tests you’ve had to take. Yet thanks to that versatile, gigabyte hard-drive of yours, and a million Starbucks cups, you made it today.

Fourth, give one peso for every ten you earn. I saw my mother pass away 8 years ago, and she left this world without anything. Which means you’re not the owner of what you think you own – you’re only a steward, because everything‘s on loan. So pass some of it on. If you don’t, government will just take it anyway.

Conclusion
As today‘s door closes softly between us, those are my parting words. But there will be other partings and other last words in your lives. But today will not be complete without acknowledging what Father Ben has done for the Ateneo these past 17 years as the university‘s longest serving president – the new Loyola Schools, all the new buildings, the UAAP championships and the bonfires. It has been a pleasure working with him. Thank you so much Father Ben.

I do have one last word for you, if I may. This was a gift when I graduated at the age of 19 – the gift of friends with whom I sat on graduation day, who remain my friends for life. So today, I wish you nothing better than similar friendships. And tomorrow, I hope that even if you remember not a single word of mine, you will recall those of Seneca, one of the old Romans i met in search of ancient wisdom: ?as is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters. I will now let you go. Through God‘s providence, may each of you travel well that precious journey called life. And may your future be worthy of your dreams. My deepest thanks for the courtesy and honor you all have shared with me. Many congratulations. God bless you all. Good day and good life.

In life and tennis, Monsignor Dakay serves well

Yesterday was a momentous occasion in the life of a momentous person. Fifty years ago yesterday, on Tres De Abril, 1960, God’s favored spokesman became a priest. “It happened on the fifth Sunday of Lent,” said Monsignor Achilles Dakay, “and, to my recollection, there has never been a ‘fifth Sunday of Lent’ in the past 50 years.”

Yes, 50 years. That’s 18,250 days. Consider that it in April 1960, the Sinulog Festival had not yet started, our president was Carlos P. Garcia, and the top-grossing Hollywood movie was Ocean’s Eleven starring Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr.

Today, Monsignor Dakay is the official spokesman of His Eminence, Ricardo Cardinal Vidal. He has the title, Media Liaison Officer. And while the media interview our highly articulate Monsignor almost weekly on matters of the Cebu Archidiocese, what the public may not know about him is that he’s a sports buff.

“I love the LA Lakers,” he told me two nights ago when I phoned him. “My sister lives in Los Angeles and, one time, I watched Shaq and Kobe.”

But the sport Monsignor enjoys the most? Tennis. “It all started when I was in the Seminary at the UST (University of Sto. Tomas) in 1955,” he said. “Our sports director then loved sports. And so, right across the street, we’d have these top Cebuano players like Saberon, Tancinco, Nap Flores and Manulat visiting and playing basketball.

“Then, during my seven years stay at UST, that’s where I first learned tennis. It was Johnny Jose, the top Filipino player, who taught us tennis on the UST cement court.”

That year was 1955—or 55 years ago. “Since then,” he said, “I have been playing everyday.” Everyday? “Well,” he answered, laughing, “every sunny day.”

Because Monsignor Dakay resides at the Archbishop’s Palace, his favorite choice of play is the one nearest: the Casino Español de Cebu. “I’m part of the first four who play,” he said, starting their doubles encounter at 4 p.m. “Roy Gopuco, Bob Go, Alfonso Tan, Doming Garcia, Donald Ruiz, Kits Borromeo, Ann Cuenco, Heide Mesina—these are the people I play with.”

Msgr. Dakay (2nd left) with Ponsoy Tan, Roy Gopuco and Bob Go

How impassioned a player is Msgr. Dakay? In a trip to Rome five years ago, instead of squeezing every extra minute to sight-see, like we all would, he told me, “I stayed at the Colegio Filipino where all the Filipino priests and students stayed.. and, of course, we played tennis everyday at their in-house court!”

That’s not all. Because if you think playing tennis in Rome is special, how about this: Monsignor Dakay has been to the mecca of tennis, Wimbledon. “Two times,” he said. “The first was in 1999 with Monsignor Eliseo Gamallo. We saw Lindsay Davenport beat Steffi Graf to win the trophy.”

His next trip to London was in 2003 when, he said “the Williams sisters met in the finals.” And, while admitting what we already know—“that there’s no place on earth like Wimbledon”—Monsignor offered a tip to anyone salivating to visit Wimbledon: “You’ve got to try those strawberries and cream!”

How about the US Open in New York? Sure. “I’ve also been there twice, the latest one several years ago when I met up with a few Cebuanos.”

The Italian Open? “That’s another one I’ve watched,” he said. “I’m very fortunate because three times in the past, I accompanied Cardinal Vidal to visit Rome and the Italian Open would be timed during this visit.”

His favorite player of all time? Bjorn Borg. Maybe because, as I’ve watched Monsignor play countless times at the Casino Español, his strength—his forehand topspin—is just like the Swede’s powerful spinning shot. “I’ve always been a Borg fan,” he said. “But now, seeing Nadal, with the emotions and passion he brings to the court, and not the type who plays like a machine, I cheer for him.”

Finally, as our conversation ended last Friday night—a Good Friday—I asked for his final “tips.”

“He who does not hope to win has already lost,” he recited in his familiar deep-sounding voice and perfect English. Then, he added one more… “Life is like tennis. He who serves well, seldom loses.”

Bro. Carlo Bacalla and the Bataan Death March

Bro. Carlo with Haide Acuña

If you think running 42,195 meters to complete a marathon is ridiculous, meet Bro. Carlo Bacalla. He’s no ordinary marathoner. He’s an ultra-marathoner. And, last March 7, he joined a race that’s the farthest in distance: the Bataan Death March (BDM). How far? One hundred two kilometers.

Crazy? Yes. Because Bro. Carlo is crazy for sports. In our recent back-and-forth email interview, he admitted, “Someone said ‘It takes an idiot to run a marathon but it takes a special kind of idiot to run an ultra-marathon!’”

Training director of the Don Bosco Training Center for out-of-school-youth in Pasil (among his myriad of jobs)–that’s Bro. Carlo’s profession. His passion: running.

At the BDM 102K race that spanned from Mariveles, Bataan to San Fernando, Pampanga, a total of 142 registered (including Haide Acuña). In the end, only 104 finished. Bro. Carlo? Did he make it? No. I mean, No, he didn’t just make the cut… he finished 17th place! An outstanding achievement (clocking 14 hours and 38 minutes) for one who’s 47 years old. He has completed nine marathons–plus the Ironman race last August in Camarines Sur. Why run 102 kms.? Only the most hard-core of men who can absorb pain, even relish it, attempt the distance. And that’s Brother.
Here’s my full-length interview with Bro. Carlo…

1. When did you start running?

When we were kids I remember joining “poste-poste” races in our neighborhood. We would bet on empty cigarette cases that we would fold like peso bills. It was our past time then. My first official run was in 1986 in the 10 k freedom run at EDSA. I run my first full marathon when I was a student of theology in Paranaque in 1988. I recall that when I took permission from my rector, his answer was: “Ok you run as long as you don’t sleep in class”.

2. How many marathons have you done? What’s your best time?

I did my first full marathon in 1988 in the “Pilipinas Marathon” the second was the “PAL Marathon”. I did 3 runs in the former and 4 in the latter. I had to stop running when I volunteered to work as a missionary in Africa and worked for 13 years there. The QCIM was my 8th marathon after 17 years of absence. The Condura Run last Feb. 7 was my 9th. My best time was 3:45 in the Pilipinas Marathon.

3. Why run 102 kms?

I had no idea about the BDM 102 until January 15 of this year when I was browsing for ultramarathons in the internet. I was interested in the “Famous Comrades” of South Africa but was informed that registration was long closed. Then I came across TNF and BDM. I didn’t like the former because it was a trail run but the latter was closed too since Jan. 6. I wrote a comment to the organizers of BDM and begged that I be allowed to join. On Jan. 18 I got the approval from bald runner and so the serious training of less than 2 months began. The race covers a distance of 102 km from Mariveles, Bataan to San Fernando, Pampanga.

Reason for running? 1. I like challenges and BDM provided one. 2. To pay tribute to the heroes of Bataan, 3. To test my mental and physical limits. 4. To have more photos for Faacebook, hahaha.

Someone said that “It takes an idiot to run a marathon but it takes a special kind of idiot to run an ultramarathon.”

4. Describe your entire BDM experience.

After reading so much about ultra running, I drafted my own 7-week training program. With barely two months to prepare, I did what I had to do: run, run, run, climb, climb, climb, drink, drink, drink, pee, pee, pee. The Condura Run was my test to determine my fitness for the BDM. I set a goal of 12 hours. I climbed to tops trice, run from Pasil to Cordova and back twice, and did night and mid-day runs 5 times. I did my longest run of 80 km 2 Sundays before the race. After doing my last 2 short runs during the race week, I felt confident I can hit my target.

The route was completely unknown to me. Fortunately, a priest-colleague from Don Bosco Pampanga volunteered to drive me and we did an ocular check before race day. It helped me gain more confidence. I had everything ready by noon of March 6. After briefing my support crew, I took dinner and droved to Mariveles, Bataan and met Haide for our planned photo session at km 00.

The atmosphere was festive despite the poorly lighted starting area. After taking photos, I had a chat with Haide while waiting for the race briefing. We encouraged each other and agreed to meet at the finish line. The starting gun was fired at 11:30 pm. I made the sign of the cross and took the road.

My plan was to divide the distance to 3 the first 42 km in 5 hours, same with the second 42 km, and the final 18 km in 2 hours. But I had to make adjustments in the first part due to the many climbs. Part of the strategy was to run-walk in some stiff climbs. Practically, the second half of the route was flat but due to the heat which reached 41 deg Celsius at noon time, I had to slow down. I instructed my support crew to leap frog every 2 km in the first 6 hours and at every 1.5 km thereafter. I took my drinks and replenishments in those stops.

At 10 am due to extreme heat, we had to change strategy and had my support vehicle stop at every 1 km until km 102. There were times when I was tempted to race with the other runners, to go fast at the early part of the race, or to run the uphills. Those were moments of tests and learnings.

Right from the start I was confident I will finish the run but I didn’t expect to be in the 17th place. At the end I would attribute ninety percent of the success to my support crew. It would have been impossible to do it without a good support team to provide water and replenishments. We had our support vehicle stuffed with 12 bottles of Gatorade and mineral water, biscuits, power gels, bananas, pandesal, sliced bread, first aid and 2 extra gallons of water.

If I counted right, I think I urinated 15 times throughout the entire distance, an indication that I hydrated myself well. I did something unusual at every kilometer post: I prayed to the holy souls of those who died during the death march to help me reach km 102. I crossed the finish line pouring the last drop of water on my head and flashing the v-sign. It was fun with countless lessons.

5. Will you do it again?

Definitely, I will join the BDM next year. According to the organizers the distance will be extended till Capas, Tarlac where the soldiers ended the death march. That’s a 140 km distance.

6. What are your future goals?

If my schedule permits me, I will try to join in all the local runs in Cebu. But there are invitations for me to play in the 40 and above soccer tournament in Bacolod in May. I will try going back to soccer this summer. This is just for a change. By June I will start preparing for my 2nd half-ironman in Camsur this August 22. Swimming will be my focus this time. I hope to improve my personal time and finish it in 6 hours. In November I will start training for the BDM 2011. Don’t get me wrong ha. Sports is just a past time, it’s not a career. My duties as a religious brother always take priority.

7. What’s your work with Don Bosco?

Quite a lot. I am the training director of Don Bosco Training Center for out-of-school-youth in Pasil. At the same time I am in-charge of the alumni of the same center. At the provincial level (salesians of don Bosco in Visayas and Mindanao) I head the commission on missions and work as the coordinator of the salesian lay volunteer organization.

I am the chairman of the Visayas Association of Religious Brothers (VARB) and the national president of the National Federation of Religious Brothers of the Philippines (NFRBP). With such amount of work, I really have to juggle with my running and my duties. I would even run at very ungodly hours so that I can be back for my community prayers and other duties.

8. Did you run in Africa when you were assigned there?

I was 13 years in Africa but I didn’t run much because the place where I worked was not running-friendly. I had an overdose of soccer in Nigeria. However, I did organize fun runs in the two centers where I was assigned. In 2005, I run a half-marathon in Lagos.

9. If you don’t mind, how old are you?

Age is a state of the mind! My chronological age is 47 (28 years as a religious brother) but I put 25 as my age in my Facebook, hahaha.

With Gen. Jovie Narcise (Bald Runner), organizer of the BDM 102

Teenage badminton champ Janel Dihiansan

Janel (left) with her mom Janet

She is 15 years old. An incoming fourth year high schooler at the Sacred Heart-Jesuit, she maintains a Facebook account, relishes text messaging friends and listening to music with her Sony Ericsson phone, and she hangs-out in Ayala to watch movies.

Janel Dihiansan is your typical 15-year-old teenager. Yes? Not exactly. For while tens of thousands of other teeners are content to call Friday nights and whole-day-Saturdays as days reserved purely for 10-hour-sleeping and all-out-malling and video-gaming, Janet works on weekends. Works? On Fridays and Saturdays? Child labor? Ha-ha. His father, Ruel Dihiansan, my close buddy for many years now, can only laugh. For, if you consider sweating for hours and sprinting in circles around a rectangle court as work, then, yes, Janel works on weekends.

Badminton. That’s her job. And since Janel started working, she’s become an indefatigable champion. Study these accomplishments (which I had to trim down for lack of space)….

2006: Champion, elementary girls for both Milo Little Olympics and Cebu City Olympics.

2007: CVIRAA champion in Elementary Girls Singles; Palarong Pambansa, Champion in Girls Team; Milo Little Olympics champion in Secondary Girls Singles; Most Outstanding Athlete for Secondary Badminton.

2008: Milo Little Olympics champion in Secondary Girls Singles.

2009: CVIRAA champion in Secondary Girls Singles and Mixed Doubles.

2010: CVIRAA champion in Secondary Girls Singles. The list is long, outstanding, and the trophies will continue to pile up each year.

“When Janel was first year high school,” said her dad Ruel, “she was up against the defending champion who was in four year high school. The event was huge, the Milo Little Olympics. Janel won.”

Janel’s love for this “thin tennis racket game” began early. “When I was very little, my dad would teach me how to play badminton. Back then, I wasn’t interested,” she said. “But when I was nine years old, I suddenly told myself that I’d play after seeing my dad carrying his racket in our room. At first, I found it strange. But when started playing, I enjoyed it. I loved the feeling of sweating. I decided to play the sport because my parents are avid badminton players. Moreover, I wanted to follow what my dad loved doing the most.” Dad Ruel is, of course, a Class-A netter and many-time club champion who has played, on and off since 1978, for 20 years now.

I asked Janel, Why play? At an age when teenagers often want to be distanced away from their mom and dad (read: independence), Janel’s reply surprised me: “I chose badminton because my parents play badminton. Playing together is one way of spending time with my parents.”

Wow. I’m sure her dad Ruel and mom, Janet, are proud of their only child, who also happens to be a consistent member of the Honors Class.

Janel trains during weekends with coach Karl Sorronda, most often in Racquetzone at Montebello. “One must be passionate,” said Janel, on the qualities of a topnotch player. “If an athlete doesn’t love the sport, all the time spent for training is put to waste. An athlete will never improve if he/she doesn’t love what he/she is doing. A badminton player also has to be patient. There are times when we are physically, emotionally, or mentally drained. But we must learn how to fight that off.

“Confidence, for me, is the most important quality of any athlete. You must believe in yourself in order to perform extraordinarily. Humility is next to confidence. These two words may be contradictory but it’s important that an athlete be humble in victory and be gracious in defeat. It is not nice to look at an athlete who is constantly bragging about his achievements and putting down his opponents.”

Finally, I asked why badminton, compared to the dozens of other games, is best, she game an answer that teenagers would love to hear: “For me,” says Janel, “badminton is one of the best sports for the youth because we meet friends. It is a great way of building up camaraderie.”

Kenya’s Losiaboi vs. Cebu’s Lopez: the race is on

Soon after Simon Losiaboi arrived from Kenya last October, he was unbeatable. Race after Sunday morning after footrace, he won. Our local runners, who had never before experienced running alongside a towering African, were tormented. They stood at the starting line aiming for second place. Engraved on the gold medal were the words “Simon Losiaboi.”

That all changed last weekend. Mendel Lopez, who was previously the Simon Losiaboi of Cebu before Simon Losiaboi arrived, joined the Ramon Magsaysay trek called “Paghandum Ni Magsaysay.” Beside Mendel, who had just arrived from Hong Kong and won third place in the 21K race, was his forever-nemesis, Simon. The gun blasted in Balamban. The runners sprinted not on flat asphalted road but on steep uphill terrain often littered with pebbles and dirt.

Guess what? Lopez beat Losiaboi. Taghap. Well, guess what: the following morning, last Sunday, the two stood beside each other again. They sprinted off; each with a different stride, both with the same goal: to finish No.1 in a lung-busting 8-km. climb to the foot of Tops in Busay in a race called “Run To The Clouds.”

Lopez beat Losiaboi. Again. Dili taghap. This is amazing. And thrilling. It’s like a movie we enjoyed so much that we can’t wait for Part 2. Which brings me to ask: Who’ll win in Part 2? Will Mendel, looking extremely lean when I saw him two weeks ago as our awardee during the 28th Cebu Sports Awards, with his renewed confidence, strive harder, run even faster, and continue to beat Simon?

Or was that a partial taghap. Since Mendel trained, in the weeks before last weekend, up hills and mountains to prepare for Hong Kong, was he better conditioned for the vertical climb? And when they return to flat ground, will he succumb to the silver medal?

Maybe not. Maybe. Or will Losiaboi, having tasted the sour taste of defeat, fight harder, train not twice but thrice daily, eat even less and become thinner than a bamboo pole, reclaim his gold? Abangan.

LTO

It’s sad but often true. When the term “Philippine government agency” is used, synonyms like “inefficient” and “corrupt” and “slow” are mentioned. Not my experience last Thursday morning during the renewal of my driver’s license at the SM City.

What an efficient system of the Land Transportation Office. (Three years back and having gone through the same noteworthy experience, I vowed, but failed, to write about my observations. So finally…)

I arrived early and was customer No. 7. Everything was methodical and organized. The front guard had the forms ready. The signages “Step 1, Step 2” etc. were visible. The staff were in a hurry (unlike other government agencies?). The physician in-charge of examination, Dr. Roy Abellana, was cordial and helpful. We even engaged in a chitchat, commenting that he knew my grandmother, Dr. Paulina “Bing” Pages.

The LTO office was clean, well-lighted, plus the location in SM is convenient. Technology was properly used: from the onsite card printer to the fingerprint scanner to several 32-inch LCD screens that showed children’s Christian movies. Best of all, the dreaded word “corruption” does not exist.

In all, from my arrival at 10:05 a.m. until I got my license, it took just 50 minutes. Amazing. (Here’s a tip: Line up early outside SM then, when the doors open, sprint to their office.) Kudos to the LTO.

Casino Español de Cebu

NONOY ALBA is the new president of the Casino Español. During the annual Voters’ Meeting two nights ago at Cebu’s prestigious “Spanish House” along V. Ranudo St., Jose Luis “Nonoy” Alba was chosen to lead the club that’s celebrating its 90th year. The other members of the new Board of Directors include Manny Sainz (VP), Gabby Leyson (Secretary), Rene Kintanar (Treasurer), Buddy Veloso (House Chairman), Boy Limkakeng (Cultural Affairs Director) and Rico Gandionco (Sports Director). Felicidades!

Dolly Tan writes about Canada

Erlinda Dolly Tan lived in Cebu from 2003 to 2008, worked at the GSIS, but is now residing in British Columbia. British Columbia? If the name sounds familiar that’s because the Winter Olympics, which ran from Feb. 12 to 28, was held in Vancouver, British Columbia. Dolly emailed me three weeks back with her observations which she entitled, “Watching the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics… And How It Reminds Me Of My Country.”

While admitting that the “Snow” Games are not popular in RP, she says we can learn from Canada. “When Vancouver was awarded to host the Olympics in 2003,” wrote Dolly, “it immediately created a 5-year program called ‘Own The Podium’ (OTP). The purpose was to develop and train athletes with the ultimate goal to top the medal tally.

“The program included trainings for coaches, leaders and athletes. It took care of the athletes’ nutrition, psychological condition and well being. They were sent to international games to prepare them for top level competition conditions.”

The OTP budget, said Dolly, was a huge $110 million and this did not escape criticisms. (Half came from taxpayers, half from sponsors.) Still, despite the negative response, Canada pushed ahead. The program worked.

“Canada made history by winning 14 gold medals, the most ever for a host nation. In the over-all tally, USA was first, Germany second and Canada third. But this doesn’t diminish the OTP program’s success with every Canadian believing that they still own the best part of the podium, the gold.

“As Canada closed the Olympics curtain, I can’t help but think about my beloved country 10,000 kilometers away. Too unrealistic to create a similar program? Yes but I was hoping our government would give more priority and would increase the budget for sports.

“We produced Paeng Nepomuceno, Bata Reyes and Eric Buhain; there is no reason why we cannot produce more world class athletes. And how about Manny Pacquiao as proof? But our athletes cannot do it by themselves, the government has a major role to play.”

Why sports? “Sports is an alternative way of life,” said Dolly. “It develops strict discipline for our children, it stimulates dreams, it stirs up patriotism. For every gold medal won, hundreds of dreams are born. For every gold medal won, hundreds of children are inspired. They get up, dribble, shoot. Sports is one way of keeping them away from drugs.

“I witnessed in Canada how sports became nation-building. Vancouver was a world stage for 17 days and more than 3.5 billion people viewed some part of the games both on TV and the internet.. this includes 185 million Americans, more than half of the US population. What they saw was Vancouver with polite people who never ran out of greetings… Thank You, You’re Welcome, and Have A Nice Day. They saw the essence of a 21st century Canada, a post 9/11 world of a peaceful multi-cultural people that includes 400,000 Filipinos. Tourism is expected to boom in Vancouver in the coming years.

“I witnessed how hockey, a game that originated in Canada, produced a People Power on the final day of Olympics when Canada and US battled for the gold in a nail-biting 3-period thriller. Right after the emotional win of Canada, a celebration of national pride erupted.

“There was people power in big cities. The downtowns of Vancouver and Toronto were flooded with people, all proud to be Canadians. Flags were raised coast to coast. This nation who doesn’t use the car horn… honked for victory! People sang the national anthem inside the train, bus, malls…

“Unbelievable. But as they say here, children skate before they can walk, they learn hockey prior to arithmetic. But it’s not about hockey, per se. It’s how they take care of their athletes—and end up winning 14 golds.

“Our Filipino athletes are there, waiting to be discovered and trained. They could be playing basketball or doing boxing. But without government support, they will remain pots of gold sitting in our backyards.”

From Cebu to Dallas, Sarah is MP’s No.1 fan

Sarah Monique Ching had never before watched Manny Pacquiao. Not in person, not on TV, not even via a YouTube replay. But that all changed last weekend when Sarah, a freshman on full scholarship studying Economics and Finance at the University of Texas in Dallas, saw Pacman three times: at the open workout, the weigh-in and on the fight night of March 13. Last Thursday, I featured Sarah’s story. Here’s Part 2:

Just a week ago, I didn’t know a thing about boxing and neither did I care for it. On Saturday, it was the only thing on my mind. My uncle picked me up from school and together we went to the Dallas Cowboys Stadium. It’d be the second time I was going to see the architectural marvel, as well as the second time I’d get lost driving there. When we arrived, the streets around the stadium were packed with cars. There were only a few in our designated parking lot so it was a breeze to park. Getting in was a bit of a problem though. The stadium is so large it has 10 entrances. We were three or four entrances away from the club entrance we were assigned. Security was very lax, though, and I was able to get drinks in. Once I stepped inside, it was fantastically surreal. I didn’t know where to start gawking. The stadium seemed even more colossal from inside. But, I was eager to get to my seat. I had bought tickets for the Club 200 level. The sight lines to the ring were amazing. I looked up and saw the world’s largest HDTV measuring 72 feet tall and 160 feet wide suspended above the ring. The ring and the big screen were in front of me dead center. Oh yeah. Everything was big in Texas. All I could do was sit and take it all in.

I had the Green Chile Kobe Burger that cost $13. Beer cost $8 a bottle, peanuts were $5, and water was $5. I didn’t have the $60 pizza. Sit back and enjoy the show. The undercard bouts had already begun. After many quick bouts, it was obvious that the crowd was losing interest. One of the more exciting bouts was Soto-Diaz. But even then, the crowd started a wave and it went on for quite a few rounds. Every time Pacquiao’s face appeared on the big screen in between rounds, the crowd would suddenly come alive. Everyone came to watch just one fight.

It felt as if everyone was for Pacquiao. There was going to be no question about who was going to win, only in which round Pacquiao would KO Clottey. Fans wore Philippine flags as capes; others were dressed in all-Pacquiao apparel.

At 8:22 p.m. Soto was declared the winner, there was a sudden change in the atmosphere. The Philippine and Ghanaian flags made their way to the ring. The previous day’s event replayed on the big screen and the fans cheered loud. Arnel Pineda of Journey sang the Philippine National Anthem. I realized it was the first time I had heard it in almost a year. The people continued shouting with pride. The stadium was charged with unbridled excitement and energy.

It was time. Clottey entered the ring and was met by loud cheers. But when, Pacquiao made his grand entrance, it was sensory overload. We welcomed him on our feet, cheering at the top of our lungs, fists pumping air.

The first round began and I sat at the edge of the seat waiting to see the two fighters slug it out. No instant action, instead they were both cautiously gauging each other. Clearly, Pacquiao was the aggressor. He put on display once again his amazing quickness. Meanwhile, Clottey remained in his shell. The early rounds went in the same manner. Clottey didn’t open up while Pacquiao kept attacking with a flurry of punches. Clottey did land some hard ones, but it became obvious that the match was one-sided, even to someone who didn’t know much about boxing. It got a little repetitive, and the highlight was in Round 4 when Pacquiao gave Clottey a double-handed punch. Was frustration beginning to set in?

Halfway through, Pacquiao probably realized that Clottey wasn’t coming out. So did I. He dished out exciting combinations for the fans. It wasn’t until the very last rounds that Clottey looked as if he was actually fighting. In Round 11, he got an uppercut in but that didn’t seem to bother Manny. The crowd was up on its feet by the final round. I was still hoping for a knockout. Pacquiao ended the fight with a barrage of punches. BOOM! The entire stadium exploded, louder than ever, as Pacquiao emerged victorious with a unanimous decision.

At the end of fight night, my voice hoarse and shoulders sore from cheering, I went to bed, heart still racing with excitement. I may have never seen Pacquiao fight before, but hey, I get to say that the first time was live together with 51,000 fans in the 8^th Wonder of the World. It wasn’t the greatest fight, but it was one heck of a show. National Fist, the fighting pride of the Philippines. I didn’t know what that meant. That night, I not only knew it, I felt it. I witnessed a legend, and he’s made a believer out of me. I was in the same room with him, thrice even. I breathed the same air he breathed. And maybe, just maybe, his sweat nilagput nako.