WHEN CALLED OUT, I RESPOND

Got to read Father Amado Picardal's blog on how he didn't like Manny Pacquiao's recent "masterpiece" win over David Diaz because it was "too brutal." Naturally, I gave him my two-cents worth a piece of my mind so to speak (Last time I checked, we're a democracy, right?). Then, the 6th person who commented on Father Picardal's blog called me out, accused me of "having little or no known understanding of reality..." Here's what he (or she) had to say (Pardon the grammar and the breakless construction of the whole thing because I copy-pasted it as is.):
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In this time we see how naive filipinos can be... i agree with your opinion father picardal.. i am not a fan of boxing neither do i want it not to be part of society. But in reality we need heroes but not the likes of pacquiao. We need heroes who can make a change in our country. People who are taking the argument on "The church have done more sins than pacquiao" just have little or no known understanding of reality. What can pacquiao do for this country? When everyone wants to live and work abroad? Where there are hungry people on the streets, rebellion in our own soil, graft and corruption in our government. And for the record boxing or other forms of contact sport are all brutal and can be and will always be compared to gladiatorial combat.How? First of all gladitorial combat is a sport in the roman time with a different set of rules. Second, Well people will never get out of that reality because it is in our genes. We are all genetically born with the innate thirst to kill. That is why we are on top of the food chain. We are not herbivores or carnivores, we are omnivores. Just a little science 101 before people reading this blog gets again on the argument "why compare gladiatorial combat to boxing". We are all entitled to have our own opinion, and Father picardal's opinion is something we can praise not criticize. At least We can say that there are still filipinos who are aware on what is happening in this country. Those are the filipinos that are worth calling heroes. Why call Father Picardal "papansin, stupid, KSP, crab mentality and those stuffs", havent your parents teach you how to show respect, and for God's sake it is a priest that you people are talking to. If Father Picardal's opinion is not aligned with what you see on pacquiao's win. At least show some respect, you can still voice out your criticism in a very constructive way. Havent you guys even thought that all this publicity all falls down to profit and popularity. Ratings and Politics. Call this pathetic patriotism or whatever you may call it. But please read between the lines and show some respect.
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Of course, I felt compelled to write a rejoinder, a riposte:

Obviously, you are just as naïve… Boxing has been, still is, and will, for a long time be a part of society because (1) it is a great, appealing sport for many, and (2) just to use your argument, “We are all genetically born with the innate thirst to kill…” If you do not want it to be part of society, why not start a crusade against it? Why even dignify it with a comment such as the one you posted?

For you to accuse me as having little or no known understanding of reality is preposterous… Reread my comment. Here, verbatim, were my words: “the ‘sins’ of boxing are far less than the sins of the catholic church…” (I find it rather amusing that you distort a quote to befit your argument). I say this because I am in touch with reality and I understand it perfectly. The reality I am pointing out is this: the Catholic Church today is plagued by issues, controversies, and transgressions that are far worse and wicked than the brutality of boxing. If you look at the tapestry of history, the Roman Catholic Church has had a far darker, shadier past than the sport of boxing. Here are two examples: (1) Less than a hundred have died in the sport of boxing; tens of thousands died during the Inquisition alone. (2) Castillo-Coralles I was brutal as brutal can be, and so was Pacquiao’s evisceration of Diaz, but not as brutal (mentally, spiritually, and emotionally) as the many documented cases of sexual abuse by priests around the world.

I agree with your argument that we need heroes, but whether you like it or not, Pacquiao is a hero to many Filipinos. Maybe he doesn’t qualify as a hero in your book, but for many, he does. Now, I am not really a big fan of Pacquiao (I respect him, but he is not my hero.), but we should give credit to where credit is due. He does embody a lot of the qualities that we Filipinos should possess: courage, will, determination, hard work, patience, perseverance, and tenacity. If we, Filipinos, possess those same qualities, maybe—just maybe--we’d be better off now. But to castigate Pacquaio simply because he shows such traits in a “brutal” sport is unfair. Maybe if you knew his roots and how he started, you'd have a far better appreciation of Pacquaio as a person and as a (possibly) role-model.

I also noticed how you asked, “What can Pacquiao do for this country?” Why, what have YOU done for this country? Or for that matter, what have WE done for this country? I am humble enough to admit that I have not done much for this country—donations here and there, volunteer work every now and then. At least Manny Pacquiao brought pride, honor, and glory to the Philippines. He has also helped a lot of people in General Santos City. How about US, what have WE done? How about YOU? How about FATHER PICARDEL?

Moving on gladitorial combat is not a sport (as far as my research goes). It was a public spectacle, a form of entertainment meant to quench the “innate thirst to kill” of humans as you so eloquently put it (as evidence, gladiator matches sometimes featured man vs. beast). Second, gladiatorial combat didn’t have a “different set of rules.” It only had one rule: to defeat your opponent no matter what the cost. Third, most gladiators were unfree men meaning, they had no choice, no freedom. They had to partake in such spectacles because they were forced to do so. What I don’t get is you saying someone has “little or no known understanding of reality,” or that someone hasn’t done anything for this country. You talk about respect yet you accuse people of having little or no understanding about reality. You talk about people being entitled to their own opinion yet you indict those who don’t agree with you by calling them naïve, disrespectful, and unaware.

Anyhow, I believe you consider yourself a HERO, based on your concluding statement that “at least we can say that there are still Filipinos who are aware on what is happening in this country. Those are the Filipinos that are worth calling heroes.” I guess you are one of those select, privileged, omnipotent few who are aware of what is happening in this country, so I salute you.

Lastly, please reread my comment and see if I, in any way, disrespected Father Picardal. He voiced his opinion, and I voiced mine the same way you have voiced your own opinion. I am glad that you voiced your opinion, and I respect them. In fact, I even agree with some of your points. The fact that you have singled me out is also a welcome development because at least, I know I struck a chord with my perspectives and arguments.

LOST

I'm just another frustrated employee trying to regain something I've lost: my confidence.

I’ve lost my edge.

Straight up, I’ve lost my edge, my swagger.

Suddenly, I’m no longer sure of my self, of my abilities, of my talents, of my skills.

Every day, every night, I go like, “Am I as good as I think I am?” There’s doubt, there’s reservation, there’s cynicism. There are questions, questions I can’t answer.

I am doubting myself.

Two years ago I was so sure of myself. I was confident, a bit too confident it bordered on cockiness, on arrogance.

“I was good,” I told myself. “I was good.” And I believed that––hook, line, and sinker.

I guess getting good job offers left and right does that.

But that was two years ago. Today is different, very different.

All it took was a slight, a snub, a brush-off.

Last February our two copyeditors resigned, leaving a huge vacuum to fill. Word got out that a select few of us, current editors, would be groomed as the next copyeditor (the other copyeditor post was to be filled up by a new hire). The setup was simple: upper management would select the “most qualified” editors and train them. They’ll be, in essence, copyeditors-in-training, with the strong possibility of promotion somewhere down the line, may be within the year.

Naturally, I expected that I’d be, even at the very least, considered. I honestly believed that I had proven myself for the last year and a half––I never missed deadlines, I produced quality work, I gave them top-shelf writing, and I showed good attitude. Heck, I gave more than what was asked for! Everything in my JD, I did with fervor, and then some.

At times, I became a production team all by myself: evaluating, editing, revising, writing, lay-outing, proofreading, and drawing. Yes, DRAWING!

Heck, all I wanted was to be considered. The hell with being chosen, I just wanted upper management to give me a look and say, “Hey, maybe we should consider him.”

All I wanted was for my bosses to pull me aside and say, "You know, we're considering you as a potential copyeditor-in-training. We think your good, we think your qualified."

That's all I wanted. I couldn't have cared less if I was chosen or not. I just wanted some sort of validation, some kind of confirmation that, indeed, I'm good enough.

It never happened.

Fuck! Shit! Fucking shit!

And the question just popped out of my mind: Am I not good enough?

Really, AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH?

Honestly. I felt bad, really, really bad. I just got slighted, snubbed, brushed-off!

Nothing against those who got chosen––they’re good, real good.

But this isn’t about them. I’m happy for them. Really, I’m happy for them. But I know I’m just as good, just as qualified––or am I?

Now I don’t even know for sure.

Maybe I’m not as good as I thought I was. Maybe I never was good in the first place.

I know there are still people who believe in me, people who constantly appreciate and recognize my talents, my skills, and my demeanor. Unfortunately, those people aren’t my bosses.

So now I’m still searching for answers, still searching for my once indissoluble confidence.

I want to regain my edge, rediscover my swagger.

I just don’t know if I can do it.

BOTHERED (ANOTHER ONE OF MY INCOHERENT RANTS)

(Maybe I don't have the authority to rant about anything shown on mainstream Philippine TV dahil hindi naman ako masugid na nanonood ng mga programang Pinoy, but nonetheless, eto yung mga na-oobserbahan ko everytime I do watch TV. Ika nga ng mga militante, may freedom of expression tayo.)

Nakaka-bother na talaga manood ng mga balita sa TV ngayon. Parang puro nalang masasamang balita yung mapapanood mo e. Kung hindi tungkol sa mga nagtataasang presyo ng gas, kuryente, at mga bilihin, mga patayan, krimen, at trahedya naman ang mapapanood mo.Tapos hahaluan pa ng mga balita tungkol sa korupsyon, katarantaduhan, at kabobohan ng mga pulitiko natin. Masama pa nito, binubudburan pa ito ng mga walang kakwenta-kwentang showbiz balita kuno.

Hindi ko lang maisip, bakit puro negative nalang ang binabalita natin. Yun na lang ba talaga ang mga “news worthy” items sa panahon ngayon? Oo, maaatim ko yung mga balita tungkol sa pagtataas ng presyo ng lahat ng bagay, yung mga balita tungkol sa trahedya ng MV Princess of the Stars, yung mga report tungkol sa hagupit ni bagyong Frank, at maging yung mga balita tungkol sa gobyerno natin, pero yung iba, hindi naman na kelangan pang i-balita sa national TV.

Dapat pa bang malaman ng sambayanan yung nangyaring saksakan sa Malate? Kelangan pa bang i-report yung rambulan ng mga rich kids na “nag-paparty” sa Embassy? Tama pa bang i-balita yung nasagasaan sa Avenida? Ayos ba talagang ipakita pa yung mga nag-aaway na magkasintahan o yung mga nagwawalang baliw na umaakyat sa kung saan para magpakamatay kuno? Balita pa ba yun? News worthy pa din bang maituturing yung mga ganon?

Tama rin bang i-balita pa yung pagtataray ni Marian Rivera sa set ng Dyesebel o yung pagta-topless ni Angel Locsin para sa isang endorsement niya? Dapat pa bang malaman ng tao na may bagong nanliligaw kay Ruffa Gutierrez o na may posibilidad na bakla si Piolo Pascual? Bakit pa ba kelangang isama yung mga ganong balita e may mga programa namang para talaga sa showbiz gaya ng The Buzz at Showbiz Central? Anlabo, diba?

Pinakamaayos na siguro yung mga news program ng ABC-5. Yung sa ABS-CBN at sa GMA (sorry sa mga friends ko from these broadcasting giants), halos basura na ang dating sa ‘kin e. In a nutshell, walang kwenta at over-sensationalized yung mga news program nila (Hindi counted yung ANC kasi cable channel siya.). Well actually, marami namang shows na walang kakwenta-kwenta ngayon so it’s not a surprise na. But then again, I expect more from our news programs pa din. Actually, all of us should expect more. Unfortunately, we aren’t getting more––we are actually getting less. (May mga good shows and good segments every now and then, but they come too few and too far between.)

Napaka-incoherent ng blog kong ito. Isa lang ‘to sa mga endless written diatribes ko borne out of having too much time on my hands. Pero alam ko naman na may point din ako (Oo, pagbubuhat na ‘to ng sariling bangko.). Sana lang talaga, mag-improve naman kahit papano yung quality and content ng mga news programs natin (and TV shows na din). Hindi ko na inaasam na maging ka-level sila ng CNN o BBC, pero at least, magkaron naman sana sila ng konting lalim at kaayusan. Alam ko pampalubag loob lang 'to, pero kung gugustuhin naman ng ABS at GMA, kaya nila mag-produce ng quality news programs--and to a larger extent, quality TV shows.

YES, THE CELTICS ARE CHAMPIONS!

Back home in front of a deliriously fired-up crowd and with the NBA championship within reach, KG, Paul Pierce, and the rest of the Celtics knew that this was their time, their moment, their title. All they had to do was play 48 minutes of Boston Celtic basketball and the championship was theirs.

They did so.

And the Lakers never had a chance.

After a tight first quarter that saw Kobe Bryant go off for 11 points on three ridiculous triples, the Celtics broke the game open in the second with a quick 9-0 run early and a backbreaking 11-0 blast midway in the period. The Cs finished the second with a thunderous 26-3 blitzkrieg punctuated by Kevin Garnett’s hanging one-handed line-drive banker off a Lamar Odom bump. By the end of the second, the Celtics had opened up a 58-35 lead, and along the way, they had zapped the life out of every Laker––yes, and that includes even the inestimable Kobe Bryant.

Yet with the memories of the Lakers’ near-comeback in Game 2 and the Celtics’ classic comeback in Game 4 still resonating, there remained a lingering sense of uncertainty, a pervading feeling that Game 6 wasn’t a done deal just yet. If, in anything, this series has proven that furious comebacks can be had.

After a subpar and disappointing Game 5, KG vowed to bring it in Game 6--and boy, did he ever bring it, scoring 26 points and grabbing 14 boards. More importantly, his intensity and energy were contagious. He just wasn't going to let this one slip away.

Not in this game, though, not in this game.

By the time Rajon Rondo grabbed the ball away from Lamar Odom and fed Ray Allen for a wide-open trey on the other end to make it 73-46, all thoughts of a possible Laker comeback had been erased. There was going to be no epic comebacks this time, only a merciless evisceration.

With KG anchoring the Celtic defense, Rajon Rondo flying all over the Boston parquet, and Ray Allen raining down threes, the Cs methodically put the game away as they extended their lead seemingly at will. After three, the Celtics had built an imposing 29-point lead and along the way, they had broken the collective spirit of the Lakers.

No more comebacks this time. Not a chance in hell. And yes, Kobe, this series is over.

This game was over after three quarters. The fourth quarter was but a formality, an extended coronation for KG, Truth, and the rest of Celtic nation. And as the final buzzer sounded, the carnage mercifully ended for the Lakers and the celebration officially began for the Celtics.

The final score was a laugher––Celtics, 131, Lakers, 92.

The NBA championship has finally returned to the city where it had been 16 previous times. The Celtics played Boston Celtic basketball for 48 full minutes, and now, the championship is theirs.

Their time, their moment, their title

.
Yes, the Boston Celtics will hang another banner as they won their 17th NBA title by obliterating the Lakers, 131-92.

MGA QUOTABLE QUOTES NA NARINIG KO SA TV

Hindi ako si Cassanova. Hindi rin ako ma-appeal sa chicks gaya ng mga kaibigan kong sina Paolo Mariano at Brian Sales. Hindi rin ako ladies man gaya ng mga katropa kong sina Miko Morelos, Bimbo Santos, at Don Carreon. Pero hindi man ako chicks-man, isa lang ang sigurado––hinding-hindi ko sasabihin ‘to sa isang babae (kahit gaano ko pa siya kamahal o kahit desperadong-desperado na ‘kong magkaron ng kasintahan):

"Sinisiguro ko sa ‘yo na mangangalay ka sa kakangiti sa pagamamahal na ibibigay ko sa ‘yo.”

Ang nasabing linya ay isa sa mga malulupit na hirit ni Piolo Pascual habang nagpo-propose siya ng kasal kay Angel Locsin dun sa comedy nilang teleserye na pinamagatang German Shepperd, este, Lobo. (According sa aking reserts, Noah ang pangalan ng karakter ni Piolo samantalang Lyka naman ang pangalan ng karakter ni Angel.) Dahil dito, tuluyan ko na talagang ibo-boycott ang panonood ng mga Pinoy teleserye.

On a more serious note, hindi ako grammarian. Hindi ako language expert. Hindi rin ako linguist o master orator. Pero ang alam ko, mali itong narinig ko kay Peter Martin, ang napakagaling at napakalupet na color commentator ng PBA:

“Terrence Leather also has a couple of blocks––two blocks to be exact.”

Diba, ang ibig sabihin ng phrase na “a couple” e “two?” O baka naman nahuhuli lang ako sa latest trends ng oral English?

Speaking of quotable quotes, naalala ko tuloy yung sinabi ni “El Decano” Quinito Henson (otherwise known as the Boy Abunda of Sports) tungkol kay Rommel Adducul:

“Rommel Adducul is playing the game of his life. He has not missed from the field. He is two-for-two.”

Wow, what a great game! One for the ages!

Pero ano nga ba ang point ko sa blog ko na ‘to? Uhmm... Ewan ko. Gusto ko lang siguro mang-balahura at mang-alipusta ng kung sino-sino.

Hindi ko na pahahabain pa itong blog ko na ‘to at baka mangalay pa kamay ko kaka-type.

REACTIONS SA ANNAWANGIN POST NI BRI AT MGA WRONG MOVES KO SA ROAD TRIP

Nabasa ko yung blog ni Brian tungkol sa road trip ng tropa, kaya eto, naisip kong magsulat ng post tungkol dun. Pero bago ang lahat, mag-rereact muna ko sa post ni Bri. Una, factual naman ang pagkakasalaysay niya, although may konting inaccuracy lang (more on that later). Panagalawa, kapuna-punang may starring role ako sa nasabing blog dahil nabanggit ang pangalan ko ng makailang beses (pitong beses, to be exact). Haha.

Before you read more, eto muna ang dalawa sa magagandang tanawin na nakita namin sa Zambales. Nature at its unadulterated best 'to.

Eto yung side ko tungkol dun sa inaccuracy sa salaysay ni Bri. According to him e sumunod ako sa pag-akyat sa bundok dahil “nakaamoy ako ng babae.” Hindi po ito totoo. Barado po ang ilong ko nun kaya imposibleng nakaamoy ako ng babae kahit gaano pa sila kabango (In related news, kinumpirma naman ni Bimbo na totoong mababango sila.). Pero, hindi ko man sila naamoy e nakita ko naman sila kaya ayun, sumunod na rin ako sa pag-akyat ng bundok kahit hindi ko trip nung una. Worth it din naman ung snap decision ko dahil maganda ang view sa gilid ng bundok.

Eto naman ang mga reaksyon ko sa bawat banggit ng pangalan ko.

• No match pa din si Don sa ‘kin sa NBA Live. Si Pao naman e lumalaban kahit papano. Yun lang, di ko pa rin ma-match yung kalupitan ni Bri pagdating sa NBA Live.
• Epektib talaga yung pabaga technique ko. Natutunan ko yun dun sa sunog-baga sa kanto namin e. Actually, posporo nga lang daw pwede na e.
• Nung nanggising ako, ma-coconsider na ba natin na “bumangon” ka nun Bri, kahit napa-upo ka lang sandali? Hindi pa pagbangon yun Bri. Hahahaha. Sayang lang yung effort ko sa paghataw sa kaldero. Ni walang natinag. Ganun pala tropa ko pag pagod, di apektado ng ingay. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Akala ko pa naman e tatayo kayo, lalo si Pao (na siyang promotor ng nasabing “power nap”). Nasaktan ko lang yung kaldero
• Yes, eventful nga naman yung Friday night ko dun. Sayang nga lang at bakla yung kumatok sa kwarto natin.
• It was good to win the Annawangin Leg of our Poker Tour. Salamat sa magandang laban, guys! Next time, tatalunin ko uli kayo.
• Regarding sa maingat kong pagbaba ng bundok, eto lang naman ang lohika ko: Safety first lang talaga. Besides, inaalala ko rin kasi kayong mga kaibigan ko. At ano nalang ang gagawin niyo kung nahulog ako, diba?

Moving on, masasabi ko ng buong puso na memorable talaga yung road trip namin. Yung nga lang, naisip ko ngayon na and dami ko palang wrong moves nung road trip naun. Eto at iisa-isahin ko para next time, maiwasan ko na sila.

1. Hindi ako nagdala ng kamera! Sayang at hindi ko napicturan ang mga sumusunod (in no particular order): (a) mga magaganda at seksing chikas; (b) mga magagandang tanawin; (c) yung mga bundok na hinati para magawa yung SCTEX; (d) yung mga anomalous pine trees sa Annawangin; at siyempre, (e) yung mga magagandang moments ng tropa.


2. Nag-feeling indestructible ako nung nag-stopover kami sa NLEX-Shell. Nung bumili kami ng ice nina Bri, kinailangan naming matadtad yung huling pack ng ice para kumasya sa cooler. Ewan ko kung anong pumasok sa isip ko, pero sinubukan kong matadtad yung pack of ice gamit ang tuhod ko. Whattamove! Ayun, ni hindi natinag yung yelo. Ni isang crack ata wala. Hindi ako nag-react kahit may kasakitan. Pero masakit siya. Matigas pala yung pack of ice. Tsk, tsk, tsk.


3. Masyado kong matagal nag-swimming ng naka-sando. Ngayon, magandang example na ko kung kelangan niyong ipakita ang difference ng light brown at dark brown.
   
4. Hindi ko GINISING sina Pao nung Friday night. Actually, ginising ko sila, pero half-hearted nga lang. Sabi nga ni Pao, sayang ang isang gabing kwentuhan na nawala sa malupet naming pagtulog.


5. Overaggressive ako nung Pundaket Leg ng Poker Tour namin. Ayun, talo tuloy. Nung Annawangin Leg, naging patient ako kaya ayun, panalo naman. Next time, dapat controlled aggression lang. Hmmmm… I can sense another poker win.


6. Hindi ko dinala yung cp ko nung boat ride papuntang Annawangin. Ayun, wala tuloy kaming pictures nina Don at Brian habang nakasakay sa bangka. Sayang din at ‘di ko nakuhanan ng picture si Manong, the ultimate mandaragat (nakatayo lang naman siya buong trip kahit maalon).
   
7. Hindi ako naging friendly. Daming opportunities to make friends dun, kaso hindi ako nag-take advantage e. Sayang nung Friday night, mukhang friendly pa man din yung baklang kumatok sa kwarto namin pero hindi man lang ako nag-initiate ng kahit anong small talk. May mga chikas pa naman siyang friends. May opportunity din akong makipagkilala dun sa mga babaeng umakyat sa gilid ng bundok, pero again, na-chope ako. Nagkatinginan na kami’t nagkangitian nung isa, wala pa din akong nasabi kahit “hi” man lang.


8. Nawala ko wallet ko. Istupidong move kasi yung pagsuot ko nung isa kong maong shorts e (mababa yung back pocket nun). Dapat yung pantalon nalang sinuot ko. Yun na nga yung first choice ko, pinalitan ko pa.

Pero kahit may mga wrong moves ako, okay lang kasi nga sulit at masaya naman yung road trip. Ika nga ni Pao, habang nag-rerelax ang tropa sa ilalim ng mga pine tree sa Annawangin, “This is the life.” Mag-iipon na ko para sa next road trip ng bayan.

Para sa maraming-maraming pang pictures, bisitahin niyo nalang ang multiply site ni Pao: http://permanence.multiply.com/

THOUGHTS ON THE MMA AND BOXING

• Caught the replay of UFC 85: Bedlam, and I must say, Brandon Vera did get screwed by the ref. Yes, Vera was, indeed, in a bad spot, with Brazilian jujitsu expert Fabricio Werdum throwing bombs from a dominant full mount; however, Vera did not look hurt at all. The guy didn’t even look like a man in some serious trouble. He was even defending himself well, moving his head, flailing his arms, and slapping most of Werdum’s punches. True, referees are supposed to err on the side of caution, but on this fight, the ref did not just err on the side of caution; he absolutely erred.

• Speaking of Werdum, he should give Brandon Vera an immediate rematch. No way did he prove himself to be the absolute better man on this fight. He just got a break from an incompetent and totally wussy MMA ref. If Werdum has got balls, he’ll give Vera the rematch so everyone can find out who, indeed, is the better man.

• If Brandon Vera doesn’t get another crack at Werdum, he should seriously consider movindown to light heavyweight. He’ll have a far better chance there since he wouldn’t be ranged against fighters naturally bigger, stronger, and taller than him. Just think of all the potential fights that can be had for Vera at the stacked light heavyweight division: Vera vs. Rampage; Vera vs. Griffin; Vera vs. The Iceman; Vera vs. The Axe Murderer; and Vera vs. Machida. Each of those fights have the makings of a classic.

• Just saw Kimbo Slice’s mainstream debut on EliteXC, and it was an absolute letdown. Pegged as MMA’s next biggest superstar, Kimbo sure looked menacing and downright scary––unfortunately, he only looked the part of an MMA superstar; he never played the part. He nearly got knocked out for crying out loud! He put on an amateurish display that did the sport of MMA, and its true superstars, a grave, unforgivable injustice. He may yet evolve into a true, skilled MMA fighter, but for now, he owes the sport an apology.

• MMA––the Kimbo Slice embarrassment, notwithstanding––is in good hands, though, with young, dynamic, multifaceted, and extremely skilled fighters like George Rush-St. Pierre, BJ Penn, Urijah Faber, Miguel Torres, Anderson Silva, Kenny Florian, and Roger Huerta. Which brings me to my next two points: GSP–BJ Penn II and Torres vs. Faber. Now those are matches made in mixed martial arts heaven. (From left-to-right: Penn, Torres, GSP, and Faber.)
  
  
  
• Okay, enough MMA for now. Time to talk about boxing. Last time I heard, Manny Pacquiao said he’s looking forward to a yearend match with Ricky “The Hitman” Hatton. This idea floated around late last year, and that time, I thought Pacquaio was nuts in wanting to fight the Briton. “No way in hell is Manny gonna beat Hatton,” I told myself when I first heard this news. Hatton’s size, power, and rough-housing techniques, I thought, would be too much for Pacquiao. But now, I think I digress with my initial assessment. After being destroyed by “Money” Mayweather, Hatton didn’t look right in his fight against Juan Lazcano. He lumbered through 12 lackluster rounds and hardly did anything to win. If the Hatton-Paquaio fight does happen, I now think Pacman has a pretty good shot at beating the former junior welterweight champion.

• Anyhow, I’m bothered by one thing about Pacquaio: I have this stinky feeling that he’s looking past David Diaz. But with plenty of $$dollar$$ signs on Manny’s horizon, who can blame him for looking past his Mexican foe? Besides, David Diaz––a man who hasn’t beaten anyone of consequence––doesn’t even belong in the same ring as Pacquaio. Bob Arum can hype this fight all he wants, but the fact of the matter is, Diaz is not in the same league as Pacman. A focused, well-trained Pacquiao will annihilate Diaz with one hand. However, stranger things have happened in boxing, and if Pacquiao looks past the Mexican far enough, he just might find himself with an embarrassing L.

• So, Floyd Mayweather has “formally” retired from boxing. Well… Maybe he’s gone for good this time. But then again, maybe he’s not. With the right amount of money (likely in the vicinity of $30 million), there’s a pretty good chance that “Pretty Boy” Floyd will once again eat his words and unretire for a second time. Hey, even Michael Jordan did the whole retire-unretire thing, right? Oh wait, he actually retired, unretired, retired again, and unretired again.
  
  

SO NEAR YET SO FAR

Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, Ray Allen, and the rest of the Celtics are halfway to their goal of winning the championship; now, they need to find a way to get through the other half.

The Boston Celtics are just two wins away from winning the NBA championship. Wait, correct that––the Boston Celtics are still two wins away from winning the NBA championship. Yes, there is a significant difference between just two wins away and still two wins away.

Just two wins away has a lingering sense of inevitability to it, a feeling of certainty. When a team is just two wins away from something, there is a pervading feeling that it will happen, and it will happen more sooner than later. A team just two wins away from something is a team in the precipice of hoops heaven, waiting for that inevitable welcome. It’s just a matter of when.

In contrast, still two wins away has a lingering sense of uncertainty, a feeling of changeability. When a team is still two wins away from something, there is a pervading feeling that it may or may not happen. A team that is still two wins away from something is a team stuck in hoops purgatory: waiting fervently for deliverance yet unsure of it ever coming.

My beloved Celtics are in the latter category: still two wins away. They are stuck in hoops purgatory, waiting, praying fervently for their deliverance, their entry to hoops heaven. There is no sense of inevitability here, just a sense of uncertainty.

There’s only one reason why: Kobe Bryant.

While the Celtics have taken a big 2-0 lead in this Finals, I have this sickening feeling that Kobe will stir up a massive, three-game Category 24 storm at the Staples Center in Los Angeles. For what its worth, Mamba may very well unleash a 60-point can-of-whoop-ass on the Celtics in Game 3; a 55-point serving of unblockable fadeaways, ferocious dunks, and acrobatic lay-ins in Game 4; and a 35-point, 12-rebound-12-assist, 5-steal gem in Game 5. Then, just like that, the Lakers will be up, 3–2, going back to Beantown.

Let’s face it, Kobe is the only singularly transcendent player who can change the entire course of a seven-game series (LeBron is getting there, but he ain’t there just yet.). That he will do it in the next three games of this Finals is a very distinct possibility.

So as KG, Jesus, Truth, and the rest of the C’s roll into Staples on Tuesday night (Wednesday morning, Manila time), I’ll just keep praying fervently, zealously, feverishly, and ardently for the Celtics to find a way to weather the vicious Kobe storm that will come their way, and in the process, win Game 3.

If the C’s––improbable as I see it––can find a way to steal this pivotal Game 3, then they’ll be just a win away from winning it all. But even if that happens, the inevitable might still shrouded in uncertainty.

THE "WHERE AMAZING HAPPENS" JOURNEY OF DEREK FISHER

In the weeklong prelude to the NBA Finals, much has been said about the revival of the Celtics-Lakers rivalry, Kobe Bryant’s phenomenal season, Phil Jackson’s quest for a record-breaking 10th ring, and the Big Three’s pursuit of a championship.

Lost somewhere amid the hype and hoopla surrounding the latest installment of the Celtics-Lakers rivalry is the inspiring journey of Laker point guard Derek Fisher.

His is a journey that transcends basketball. It is a journey that has seen Derek Fisher go from the depths of despair to the clutches of possibly another championship.

More than a year ago today, Fisher was on pins and needles, caught in a tragic twist of fate that threatened to derail his basketball career and worse, throw his very life in disarray. His then 11-month old daughter, Tatum, was diagnosed with retinoblastoma, a rare form of degenerative eye cancer. Just as everything had begun coming up roses again for the stocky, 6-foot-1 point guard, an albatross was thrown his way and in an instant, everything became a virtual conundrum for the 12-year veteran.

Oh, and the timing was downright nasty––right smack in the heat of the playoffs. So while his then Utah Jazz teammates were prepping for a pivotal Game 2 showdown against Baron Davis and his upstart Warriors in the second round, Derek Fisher was prepping himself for an all-together different battle: the battle to save little Tatum’s eyes, and to a larger extent, her very life.

So just hours before Game 2, Fisher found himself on a plane instead of on the floor of the glistening New Energy Solutions Arena. He and his wife were bringing their cancer-stricken daughter to New York for emergency surgery. On this day, basketball became the least of Derek Fisher’s concerns. Wins, points, momentum, home-court advantage? None of them mattered for Derek Fisher. All that really mattered for him was Tatum.

What happened next, of course, was straight out of the “Where Amazing Happens” playbook. Tatum survived the delicate surgery and was cleared to fly home immediately after. Unburdened somewhat by Tatum’s successful surgery, Derek Fisher––along with Tatum and his wife––flew back to Utah, went straight to the sold-out New Energy Solutions Arena, put on his Jazz uniform, and jogged straight to his team’s bench. A minute later, he was on the floor, basking in the warm, well-deserved, and poignant standing ovation the crowd had given him. Fisher eventually capped his dramatic day with a tide-turning three in overtime to help the Jazz win Game 2.


While the Jazz eventually lost to the San Antonio Spurs in the conference finals, Fisher found ultimate solace in something far more important: his daughter was safe and she was beating cancer.

After the season, Fisher asked Jazz owner Larry Miller to release him so he can live––and possibly, play––in a city where his daughter can get the best medical attention possible. It was a clean, mutual break, one in which both sides understood each other.

Months after being released by the Jazz, Fisher eventually chose Los Angeles as the best place to raise Tatum. He then signed a three-year, $14 million contract––$8 million less than the $22 million he would have received with the Jazz had he decided to stay––with the Lakers to continue playing the game he loved. Back in the city where he first made himself a household name, Derek Fisher has settled in, along with the great Kobe Bryant, as one of the respected leaders of this young and talented Laker team.


After a tumultuous year in which Derek Fisher watched his daughter, Tatum, battle cancer, he is now with the Lakers, providing veteran leadership, clutch shooting, tenacious defense, and unflappable confidence in helping his good friend, Kobe Bryant win another NBA title.

Now, more than a year later after his daughter was diagnosed with cancer, Derek Fisher is playing in the Finals in search of his fourth ring. But to Fisher, winning a fourth championship doesn’t matter nearly as much as seeing her daughter, Tatum, everyday.

It was, to say the least, a long, arduous, and difficult journey for the Fishers. But they soldiered on, and now, a year later, Derek Fisher knows he can cap off this journey with the ultimate prize in basketball: an NBA championship.

Should that happen, Derek Fisher would be holding the Larry O’Brien trophy with his daughter in his arms––her beautiful pair of eyes gleaming with pride and joy.

Truly, his is a journey that deserves to be told.

TIME TO STEP UP, KG

This was, so far, Kevin Garnett’s watershed moment––his biggest, most memorable victory in 13 brilliant years. Yet there he was, just quietly crossing midcourt with his head bowed, his right hand draped over his sweat-soaked faced and dreary eyes. There was none of his trademark chest-thumps, none of his angry invective-laden diatribes, none of his ferocious roars.

Just one serene, surrealistic walk to the waiting arms of his teammates.

This was the biggest win of KG’s life, one that sent him to the NBA Finals for the first time in his career, yet after the game, he was devoid of his usual exuberance, short of his iconic energy. Known to celebrate wins with an intense, often belligerent routine of violent chest-pounding, finger-pointing, and intermittent––usually profane––screaming, Garnett was uncharacteristically placid, strangely silent, surprisingly at ease.

Perhaps being four wins away from a championship has that effect.


Kevin Garnett can add "champion" to his already impressive resumé. But can he get past Kobe and the Lakers?

But to get four wins, he and his Celtics will have to beat the now-oh-so-mighty Lakers, led by arguably the greatest coach in league history in Phil Jackson and inarguably the best player in the world today in Kobe Bryant.

Yes, Kobe Bryant is the best player in the world today, and in a ways, he is every bit the player that Kevin Garnett isn’t, especially in the fourth quarter or when the game is on the line. While Kobe relishes the pressure of a give-and-take fourth quarter, KG seems to abhor it; while Kobe thrives in close, cardiac games, KG seems to wilt in tight, down-the-wire finishes; while Kobe wants to shoot when the game is on the line, KG seemingly just wants to pass it.

So as KG looks across the Boston parquet on Friday for Game 1, he will see that the biggest obstacle standing in the way of his quest for a championship is that man wearing No. 24 for the purple and gold: Kobe Bryant. And if KG is to win his first ring, he will have to be the player that Kobe is––or at least half the player Kobe is––when the game is up for grabs.

Simply, Kevin Garnett has to be the best player on the court for the Celtics when the game is on the line just as Kobe will be the best player on the court for the Lakers. Mamba, no matter how good the C’s defense is, will score when it counts most; KG, if he so desires can do so, too, because the Lakers––their much-improved defense notwithstanding––has no one, absolutely no one, who can hang with The Big Ticket.


After 13 years of blood, sweat, tears, and frustration, KG is now four wins away from a championship. But to get it, he'll have to prove that he can play big down the stretch.

Ultimately, this series will be decided by the former MVP, Garnett, and the current MVP, Bryant. The world knows what Kobe can and will do in this Finals. He has long wanted to carry his own team to a title, and he will surely not disappoint now. KG is the enigma of this Finals. He has waited for this chance for 13 long years, and now, that chance is here. What he makes of this chance will determine whether the Celtics will hang banner No.17 or not.

Long vilified as a superstar who shrinks during the grandest of games, Kevin Garnett has a chance to rectify most of his endgame mistakes by doing what pundits say he can’t: deliver in the clutch. If he can do so for at least four games, all will be forgiven. He will be a champion––vindicated, validated. Those forced, fall-away jumpers down the stretch will be forgotten. Those shots he didn’t take in the fourth quarter will be disregarded. Those silly endgame blunders will be ignored.

It’ll only take KG four games of greatness––just four games.

But Kobe Bryant, otherwise known as the greatest player alive today, stands in his way. He, too, wants to have four games of greatness. And he will––the Boston leprechaun be damned––step up to the plate and deliver.

Will Kevin Garnett do the same?

The ball is in KG’s court now.


The Finals may very well be a battle between two league MVPs: KG and Kobe. No. 24 will bring it; can The Big Ticket do the same?