Maybe we forgot. Maybe we Filipinos should be reminded again – and again.
Someone Up There must have forgotten to tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree in our minds. That’s why we forgot.
Forgot what?
We forgot that Filipinos nowadays are being butchered by Asian neighbours on the hardcourt. I mean, in basketball – a sport Filipinos have passionately embraced as a virtual religion.
We forgot that for the past few years the Philippines has not figured prominently in the battle for Asian basketball crown, not even in qualifiers for the Olympics.
We forgot that love for the game is not a surefire formula for success in basketball.
We forgot that playing for the country is a matter of national pride, not a matter of prize.
We forgot that it’s a question of heart which, sadly, our lazy breed of national players – particularly those pampered PBA millionaires – don’t have.
We forgot that the even bigger problem is how to bring back the old values, the old heart and the old fire to our players when they compete abroad for flag and country – a phrase reduced to political speeches nowadays.
Don’t get me wrong.
I would love to see the Philippines regain our long lost reputation as the best in Asia. After all, we pride our country as a basketball-crazy republic, right?
Don’t get me wrong.
Filipinos – never mind if they’re Filipino-Americans whose surnames seem very alien – have got the talents and skills to play in the Olympics.
But then again, we must have forgotten that amid continued frustrations in basketball, Someone Up There has always been good to us.
In fact, he gave us a gem of a boxer in Manny Pacquiao, a world champion who has metamorphosed into a global phenomenon.
In Pacquiao, Someone Up There must have wanted to remind Filipinos that there is always a better alternative to basketball. And that is boxing.
For that, we can always remember Pacquiao.
You know, the man who conquered Mexican legends Marco Antonio Barrera and Erik Morales.
Or has time blurred the images in our minds beyond recognition?
Ask yourself, what kind of supernatural phenomenon could have caused Pacquiao’s defeat to Morales in the first part of their much celebrated trilogy?
A victory for Pacquiao then could have easily been the defining moment for him.
But no. Someone Up There made us wait.
To build up the suspense?
To give Pacquiao the chance to beat Morales in their next two meetings, which he did?
To give Pacquiao the chance to make himself unquestionably the most exciting boxer in the world today?
Or maybe to show that Someone Up There is in charge, even in the boxing ring?
We will never know.
All we know are these:
That every Pacquiao fight is almost as big in impact as the Thrilla in Manila between Ali and Frazier in 1975.
That Pacquiao is one of the best, if not the best, pound-for-pound boxers today.
That for a country so divided like ours, Pacquiao has become a unifier.
That each time he climbs the ring, he has this aura, if not mantra, to lullaby us to dreamland, if not fantasyland.
That with Pacquiao in the ring, the agony and horror of basketball can take the back seat.
That, still, Filipinos will continue to be obsessed with basketball and blinded by the illusion of basketball glory. Till kingdom come. How pathetic.
If ever there is one living soul whom Someone Up There could use to prove those points, Pacquiao could be it.
Basketball fanatics can grumble at the notion that Divine Intervention has something to do with the sport’s endless failures – and with Pacquiao’s overwhelming success.
After all, Filipinos clasp their hands and bow their heads in prayer everytime Pacquiao fights.
That. Is. Precisely. The main point.
Maybe Someone Up There is also cheering for Pacquiao to remind us that boxing – and not basketball – is our sport.
Maybe, just maybe, God is a Pacquiao fan.
