STANDING UNDER THE CROTCH OF A ROCK GOD

I'm not a fan of using the "my life is complete" cliche after major lifetime events. If anything, it makes you look like even more of a loser, as it basically says the life you still have will suck 'til death. For instance, should I have said "my life is complete" after marrying the LLDD-Hyphen-L, even though it was the happiest day of my life? Hell, no! That would defeat the whole freakin' purpose!! The fun part was just getting started!! (right, sweetie? umoo ka.)

That being said, it is difficult to imagine how many other things in one's life can top the sheer awesomeness that is watching Ikaw Rin up close in concert.

Why do I call them Ikaw Rin? Because as I learned from my own wedding experience, concert copyright curmudgeons will hunt you down and actually block your freakin' onsite videos and slideshows on YouTube if they get a whiff that you're using their artists' music as background. Hopefully this will throw them off.

And if you can't figure out who Ikaw Rin is by now, then maybe you're life is complete. Really, there's no hope for you anymore. Just give up already.

The rest of you, follow me on my rock journey . . .

But first, wait in line for hours like I did

I always wondered how hard core you had to be to be one of those kids you see on TV who watch large stadium concerts from the front and in the field (rather than from reserved seats somewhere in the stands). Apparently, not that much. In my case, I was able to easily get a pitch-level ticket online, arrived at the stadium just an hour-and-a-half before the gates opened, took my place behind several hundred other fans, sat down, and waited. Between my oatmeal bars, newspaper and B.S. Report podcasts, time just flew by.

When the gates opened, there was a surprisingly orderly beeline towards the field. It was here that I first saw the stage nicknamed "The Claw" (but which could also be called "Son of Cloverfield"). As I walked closer to the stage, I couldn't help notice . . . that I was getting really close to the stage. My tickets were general admission-standing, but I wasn't expecting this. The papers said this concert broke all-time attendance records. . .so how come there weren't more people in front of me? This was great!! In the bottom video, you can even hear me muttering "holy crap" over and over because . . . Good Lord, I've ended up just 20 feet from the Ikaw Rin stage! I'll be able to smell the lead singer's righteousness from here!!!

Alrighty then. I have my spot, and it's another two hours 'til the show. Perfect time to get my bitchy on.

Wherever you are in the world, there will always be one group that thinks its cool to sit down and take up a disproportionate amount of space. More than once, people carrying drinks almost tripped over and fell on them (I kinda wish they did).

Nobody knew who these people were or how they managed to get on stage. We were guessing they were winners of some radio promo, or just some rich, connected douchebags. Either way, everyone in the field directly behind them did their best to ruin the picture.

Jack Bauer has not aged well.





Why the hell do you buy front row tickets to a rock concert and then wear earplugs?!?




These souvenir shirts were thin, flimsy and cost 22 pounds. Of course I bought one.



Opening Acts? For an Ikaw Rin concert? Really?

The first act was called Ang Mga Horas. Not bad. Good sound. What I didn't like was their look. They seemed to be trying a little too hard to have an indie image about them. Bassist in a vest and tie? Check. Drummer wearing a fedora? Check. Lead Guitarist in effeminate glasses? Check. Lead Singer with ironically baduy big hair. Major check.

The second act - "SalaminVegas" - I didn't like as much. They sounded like Elvis Costello just discovered an electric guitar and profanity. (I'm not kidding, one of their song's refrain went "So frak you.....fraahhhaaaaahhhaaaahhhaaack you.") Plus, the lead singer wore a sideless sando that I hadn't seen since Rey "PJ" Abellana rocked one in "D'Punks" back in the day.

Begin the awesome

Ikaw Rin finally takes to the stage and immediately rocks our faces off. Just hit after hit after hit, all from just twenty feet away. What we didn't realize was that the main stage was connected by two swinging bridges to a ramp that ran behind us and extended further into the field. The result: the bridge would sometimes set up right next to us and we'd get even closer to the band. How close?

THIS FREAKIN' CLOSE!!!!!!!!!

And during those times when the bridge would stop directly above us, we'd get an up close look at how big the band's...er...talent is.

I was so happy I became one of those things I despised the most: that guy who takes arms-length pang-Facebook pictures of himself.

The giant wraparound screen started off high above the stage, and then later expanded like an accordion, lowered itself, and re-assembled right on top of the band. Spectacular for us down on the field, but I imagine it obstructed the view of those up in the cheap seats. (suck it, cheapos; us down here stood in line for hours!)

(speaking of cheap seats, I was surprised to see the people there sitting down for a good part of the concert; I mean, if your section ain't up and jumpin', it just ain't happenin')

The spectacular lights would lead you to believe that . . . Good Lord, maybe the lead singer really does have superpowers! From above!

Enough already. Just show us some crappy cellphone video clips.

Very well, but the names have been changed to protect the innocent

Suotin Ang Iyong Botas from guzmaniax guzmaniax on Vimeo.

Madugong Linggo from guzmaniax guzmaniax on Vimeo.

Kung Saan Walang Pangalan ang mga Kalsada from guzmaniax guzmaniax on Vimeo.

Magandang Araw S'ya from guzmaniax guzmaniax on Vimeo.

Sa Ciudad na Nakakabulag ang mga Ilaw (ay, ang ganda mo ngayon gabi) from guzmaniax guzmaniax on Vimeo.

Sa Ciudad na Nakakabulag ang mga Ilaw (ay, ang ganda mo ngayong gabi) II from guzmaniax guzmaniax on Vimeo.

Sa Ngalan ng Pag-ibig from guzmaniax guzmaniax on Vimeo.

Just wow. When I wasn't screaming and jumping around like a lunatic, I found myself just standing with both hands on my head in total amazement and disbelief. Occassionally, I'd even do the hands-on-head/jump-around-like-a-lunatic combo. And when I'd look around my section, everyone would be doing the exact same crazy thing. Up front and pitch-level will do that you, I guess.

By the end, I was hoarse, exhausted, and in a thin, sweaty shirt that cost 22-pounds. If anything, I was certain my life was not complete after this.

Because I wanna be around to do it again!

Bye boys. Ingat.

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?