PBA FC

Over the weekend, I got caught squarely in the middle of the debate that's been tearing at the very heart and soul of our country for ages.

No, not admi v oppo. Not free markets v protectionism. Not Eat Bulaga v Wowowee.

It was Basketball v Football

(naaaaaaaks, who noticed how subtly "Brit" I was because I said "v" instead of "versus"? Ha? Ha? Watch out for me calling the games "fixtures" later on)

Even before arriving at post, I was already informed that I'd be a sort of sports activities liaison for the Embassy (I'd prefer to be called czar, but whatever). So it was no surprise that one of my first meetings here was to help organize a basketball tournament between FilCom teams from all over the UK. It was a really big event, and preparations had to start months in advance. A start date was chosen: 08/08/09 (because, you know, 08/08/08 was so 08)

Meanwhile . . .

A plucky group of Fil-Brits had banded together to form Philippine United FC, to compete against UK clubs and hopefully work their way up the UK Football heirarchy. They had the heart and the talent, but basically had to run everything out of their own pockets. Despite their relatively short time together, they had run up some impressive victories, and were gearing up for the Asian Cup tournament that would pit them against powerhouse teams from China, Thailand and Vietnam.

Out of 365 days in a year, the Asian Cup would open - why the hell not - on 08/08/09.

Both events deserved my time, but I'm only one man. A lot of man (right, sweetie? umoo ka), but still one man. And that's when the...um...discussion points were sent my way. "Filipinos aren't built for basketball! We never win anything in basketball! Football is the world's game!"; "Yes, but basketball is cool! We've been playing it for decades! It's the national game!"

(I offered to cut myself in half, Solomonic style, just to see which side loved me more, but they both said "sure". Hmp.)

My take in all of this. . .just let people play. Sport is as much about passion and fun as it is about success. If one group truly enjoys playing their game regardless of outcome, who is anyone to deny them that joy? Laro lang ng laro.

(pero kung isa sa inyo palaruin ako, mas ok na kayo sa akin bigla; palagi kasi akong bangko nung bata)

Anyway, in the end, the best I could do was to split my weekend time. Saturday would be for basketball, while Sunday would be for football.

I just wanted my children to know that I loved them both very much.

Now go play.


Saturday

Opening ceremonies of the basketball tournament. It had everything you'd find at home: parade of players, muses, oath and prayer (I copied Tuesday Morning Quarterback's hehehe), vocal crowds, table official announcer who doubles as stand-up comedian. . .

. . .and, of course, awesome sound check guy.

I may be the "czar", but I'm also the most junior officer. So while others attended to the VIP guests or handled the facilities, my task was. . .to guard the bouncy castle and keep the kids and balloons off the playing court.

Things that Warmed My Heart as Organizer 1: the Filipino food set-up was swamped with customers throughout the day (although I question the wisdom of some players who had halo-halo before their game)

Things that Warmed My Heart as Organizer 2: we successfully made the day a family event. It was fun to see these giant, fierce, bald, muscular, tatooed players become absolute pussycats the moment they stepped off the court and chased after their little kids. (You heard me baldy, I called you a pussycat!)

Things that Warmed My Heart as Organizer 3: teams thought well enough of the event that they wanted to immortalize it through picture-picture.

My heart would always skip a beat whenever someone would go down with an apparent injury, worried that our available first-aid might have been inadequate.

Then it occurred to me: most of the players and audience are probably nurses! Game on!

Dramatic finish to the game between Birmingham (in orange) and Milton Keynes (in dark something). Milton Keynes only suited six players, and by the end, most were in foul trouble or had cramped up. Improbably, they held a lead going into the last minutes, until Birmingham finally tied it. With 0.3 seconds remaining, however, a Milton Keynes player (a Keynesian?) was fouled and was awarded two free throws. Just sink one and game over. Milton Keynes would win in regulation. The player set up and . . . ouch.

Milton Keynes would end up losing in double overtime, after injuries and foul-outs left them with just three players on the court (including their hastily dressed coach).

(BTW, how'd y'all like my Quinito Henson "Kwinento Mo Na Lahat!" school of highlights? Next up, I'll be telling you what a player's favorite food is and the nationality of his mother-in-law)

That would have been the best game of the day, except . . .

The final game pitted two of the early favorites against each other: London v Berkshire. The latter featured two ex-PBA players, Jun Carmona and Mike Bravo (above). Let me tell you, Geneva peace talks went smoother than our negotiations to get all teams to agree on the number of pros to a team.

(cue Quinito voice) Berkshire led by five points with about three minutes remaining. But watch out, London will rally to tie the score. With 24 seconds remaining, Carmona sinks one free throw. In the ensuing possession, Berkshire forces a jump ball with three seconds to go, but watch out, the possession arrow is with London. One last play is set. Watch out.




And, as the crowd leaves, the teams head home and the lights are switched off, one LLDD basks in the glory of helping pull off a fun, exciting day for all . . .

. . .just as soon as he finishes his garbage clean-up detail.



Sunday

Football's turn. After a two-hour-that-should-have-been-only-one-hour train ride (you will grow to hate the words "signal failure" in London) and a 30-minute walk, I arrive at the (subtle British alert!) pitch. The team unfortunately lost a close one to Vietnam the day before, but still had to face Thailand on Sunday for third place.

Did I say face? Sorry, I meant pummel.

Philippines 3, Thailand (subtle British alert!) nil


Philippines 4, Thailand nil.

Well done, lads.

The team receives a much-deserved pep talk from the coach after their victory. A den mother-type later gathered all the player's uniforms for washing.

Speaking of washing, I was so busy with organizing the different activities over the weeks, I didn't have time to do my cleaning, and my dirty clothes took the size and form of something from (pretentious British reference alert!) the Tate Modern.

To take off from what I said at the start, I'm only one man. How could I have so much laundry?