9 thoughts on the French Open

PARIS — My daily trips riding the Metro and disembarking on Michel-Ange-Molitor to walk 1,100 meters before entering Stade Roland Garros have come to an end. Here are some thoughts on the only Grand Slam event played on clay:

1) If you want a sampling of the same red clay in Paris, there’s one in Cebu. It’s called CitiGreen Tennis Resort and it’s found in Labangon. Operated by Jade Abangan and her team, which includes the Siso siblings (Niño and Em-Em), the two red-clay courts in CitiGreen resemble RG. Both possess the same color. Both are slippery and have sand at the surface. For those who have yet to visit CitiGreen, you must. What’s better in Cebu than in Paris? CitiGreen is indoor.

2) Yesterday, I focused on the power game in men’s tennis. Boom-boom, bang, smash! It’s all about obliterating that ball as hard as one’s muscles could. Well, that’s true. But you know what tactic I’ve also observed here? Finesse. And nobody employs this one-two, power-and-finesse manuever than the world no. 1 Novak Djokovic. It’s called the drop shot. And on clay, it’s essential. Because players stand so far behind the baseline (because of the looping topspin), the occasional drop shot is essential. Djokovic has been using this surprise often. It has worked.

3) How much money does the champion earn? First, you have to win seven times. From the first round until the Finals, you play seven times. The prize: 1.8 million Euro. Multiplied by P50 to a Euro, that’s P90 million. That’s a lot of pesos. (But compared to Pacman’s earnings in Las Vegas, the RG champ, after two weeks of hard-hitting work, his take-home pay is miniscule.) The men and the women receive the same reward — even though the men play 3 out of 5 and the girls play only 2 out of 3. It’s called equal rights. A rightful decision.

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4) Did the French invent the game of tennis? Based on my research, it’s possible that the word “tennis” was derived from “tenez.” That’s a French word for “hold” or “take, receive,” which might mean getting ready before one receives the serve.

5) Roland Garros, now on its 114th edition, is the most difficult tennis tournament to win. All matches are best of five. Many turn into marathons, at times running past four hours. The reason: clay-court tennis is tedious. Unlike Wimbledon’s grass or the US and Australian Opens which have fast hard-court surfaces, clay dampens the ball’s speed. That’s why you’ll see back and forth rallies lasting 24 or more shots. It’s physical. It’s sweat-inducing. It’s the most excruciating tenez event.

6) How expensive are the RG tickets? Surprisingly, they’re not overly pricey. During the first days of the week (the best time to visit a Grand Slam), when all the side courts are filled with top names, an Outside Pass entry costs 30 Euro. That’s about P1,500. Not bad for an 11 a.m.-until-8 p.m. stay. For the Philippe Chatrier (center court) tickets, they go for around 60 Euro in the early days. That’s P3,000. Expensive? Sure. But this is a Grand Slam event. For a once-in-a-lifetime experience, it’s worth saving-up for. Of course, when you go to the later rounds (semis and finals), they’re exorbitant: as high as 948 Euro.

7)  Tennis is an outdoor sport but RG has followed the route of Wimbledon and the Australian Open by their plan to install a retractable roof on their center court. This is expected to be finished in 2019. The weather here is erratic. One hour it’s sunny; the next it’s cloudy and drops of cold rain sprinkle the 19 degrees air. The French Tennis Federation is also adding another show (covered) court, all targeted for completion in four years.

8) What’s the food like here in Paris? Bread, pan, baguette, croissant, Pain au lait. I miss our garlic rice and sinugbang baboy.

9) To help popularize RG, the organizers did an ingenious act: right in the middle of the Eiffel Tower (the most “selfied” place on earth), they hung an illuminated giant tennis ball with the words “Roland Garros.” Merveilleux!

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Nishikori stands tall in the game of giants

2015May24041841_473466122(Andreas Solaro/AFP/Getty Images)

PARIS — Height is might. That age-old adage holds true for basketball, swimming, badminton, volleyball and a long list of other sports.

With tennis, height is a tall advantage. You serve from a higher trajectory. You sprint left and reach that backhand faster. Your long legs assist you in that dash to flick the drop shot. When you stretch for a volley, those added inches help.

The average height of the top men’s tennis pro: around 6-foot-1. That’s the height of Roger and Rafa and Pete Sampras. Novak is an inch taller. Andy Murray stands 6’3”. Marin Cilic, the reigning US Open champion and whom I watched from a few feet away this week, has two Eiffel Tower-like legs. He stands 6’6”.

The other day, a giant of a server slammed 219-kph aces against his French opponent. (Although the crowd reveled in their local player’s win.) That American is John Isner, looming tall at 6-foot-10.

Tennis today is different from tennis in the ‘70s or ‘80s. Ushered in by Boom-Boom himself — 6-foot-2 Boris Becker, who continues to be an attraction here, sitting on the stands as his student Novak Djokovic plays — the game today is all-power.

Gone were the days of Ken Rosewall’s slice backhands or Rod Laver’s chip and charge. In the countless hours that I’ve sat by the sideline to watch the professionals at Roland Garros, they do mostly one thing: smother, destroy, crush and butcher. Their weapon of choice is a tennis racket and their unfortunate target is a yellow ball.

In one of the first matches we saw here, I joined Jasmin and Jana in watching Treat Huey. You know Treat! He’s our top Filipino player who’s traveled from America to Cebu several times for Davis Cup action.

Treat and his partner Scott Lipsky won the first set in men’s doubles. We were ecstatic and hoped for victory. Sadly, they lost the next two sets and bombed-out in the first round. Their opponents, two unknowns from Europe, employed a simple tactic: they mutilated the ball. They must have stood 6-foot-4 tall and they just ravaged their shots.

Kei Nishikori is the exception. The Japanese hits clean and hard, but he’s no physical giant. Compared to the Sam Querreys and Ivo Karlovics, he’s small at 5’10”. Yet, he’s winning. He won in Barcelona a few weeks ago and, thus far, he’s into the fourth round in Paris.

At Court Philippe Chatrier earlier this week, I watched him play a dangerous opponent in Thomas Bellucci. He clobbered him in straight sets.

The 25-year-old Kei is an exceptional talent. Given his small physique, he has terrific hands and amazing eye-to-hand coordination. He doesn’t stand 15 feet from the baseline like Nadal; he stands inside the baseline to pound on his ground-strokes. He hits on the rise. That’s why he’s world No. 5 — possibly the highest-ever ranking for an Asian.

CORIC. The best match I’ve seen here: Borna Coric defeating Tommy Robredo in five sets. They played in Court 2 last Thursday and I was fortunate to sit on the third row. Behind me sat Goran Ivanisevic (who, like Coric, hails from Croatia) and three seats to my left was Thomas Johansson, the former Australian Open champion who now coaches Coric.

This kid is a future champ. His serve reaches 205-kph and I like his two-fisted backhand. He steps forward and, armed with a compact swing, delivers a deadly crosscourt drive.

Only 18, he also defeated Sam Querrey in the first round and, if he wins his upcoming encounter against Jack Sock, he’ll meet Nadal in the fourth round — a titillating contest given that Coric upset the Spaniard last year. Watch out for Coric.

AJ LIM. There’s one other Filipino who’s joining here: Alberto Lim, Jr., one of our bright prospects in PHI tennis. He joined the qualifying round of the junior category in Roland Garros but lost a French player.

AJ is only 16 but he was world-ranked 45 last month in the juniors (he’s now 74.). We hope someday that he’ll be the Kei Nishikori of the Philippines.

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Viva La France! The locals go 5-0

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(Aurelien Meunier/Getty Images)

PARIS — The French are an expressive and artistic people. This was reflected on the tennis courts at the Stade Roland Garros.

In an “Italy vs. France” contest two afternoons ago, the French thumped their feet on the bleachers surrounding Court 7. They stood with arms punching the air. They screamed “Allez!” They clapped to disrupt the Italian and they clapped to uplift their Frenchman. The Italian was Fabio Fognini, world no. 27. Twice this year, he’s beaten Rafael Nadal and was expected to win the slugfest against Benoit Paire. But, no; the locals wanted Paire, who hails from Avignon, to win. Midway through the match, a fight among the spectators ensued. The details were sketchy but it was possibly a local guy throwing a punch to an Italian adversary.

Paire triumphed in Paris. As Fognini exited the stadium in a huff, I stood two meters away. His face looked desolate. His head was pointed down. Inside the court, a different atmosphere reverberated. Paire was signing autographs. The French spectators wouldn’t let him go. Photos and selfies were snapped. It’s as if he won the French Open!

This scene is duplicated each time a Frenchman plays. The day before, my seatmates Jana, Jasmin and I witnessed the same occurrence. An unknown in the tennis world, Maxime Hamou was treated like a rockstar when he played. His famous countryman, Jo Wilfried-Tsonga, sat on the stands to cheer. The crowd jammed the same Court 7, a mid-size arena. Hamou was losing to Jerzy Janowicz (from Poland) but the French wanted him to claw back from the precipice. They did all the cheering that they could — to no avail.

They booed. Yes. Booing here is normal. While, to us, it would seem too harsh or hostile a welcome to a foreign opponent, here it’s okay. They booed Janowicz. When he questioned a line call and approached the umpire, they booed. When he defeated Hamou, 6-7, 6-3, 6-4, 6-4, they booed. When the two players met at the net to shake hands, they didn’t shake hands — they pulled each other’s hands. Janowicz then pointed a finger to Hamou, gesturing for an apology on an earlier incident. They glared at each other. Hamou booed. The crowd booed. It was crazy and unlike anything I’ve seen.

The French are passionate. They were also winners last Wednesday.

Nicholas Mahut played Ernest Gulbis on Court No. 2. I enjoyed watching this match up-close. Gulbis, who comes from Latvia, was ranked as high as 10 in the world. He was expected to romp into victory against the Frenchman. But again, the crowd roused him to snatch the prize. Mahut won in four sets. Same with no. 12 seed Gilles Simon, winning against Martin Klizan.

Over at Court Suzanne Lenglen (named after an 8-time Grand Slam champion who reigned in the early 1900s), it was another Frenchman: Tsonga. Everybody loves Tsonga — including those who watched him play the International Premier Tennis League (IPTL) in Manila, where he represented the Philippine Mavericks.

Tsonga is forever smiling. He’s a young-looking version of Muhammad Ali who clasps not boxing gloves but a tennis racket. Wearing all-black and looking like Batman on the red clay, he slammed aces and fired crosscourt winners. He was a winner against Dudi Sela.

But nothing beats Gael Monfils. On Court Philippe Chatrier, the 6-foot-4 Monfils was Goliath. He faced a player nine inches shorter in 5-foot-7 Diego Schwartzman. On paper, this was a no-contest. Monfils is the 13th seed while the Argentine lingers at 57.

But in the David vs. Goliath clash, it was the diminutive Argentine who was winning. He won the first set 6-4. Monfils battled back to win the second. In the third, Schwartzman won 6-4. Holding a two sets to one lead, the crowd grew tense. But, energized by the partisan Parisians, Monfils won the next two sets, 6-2, 6-3, punctuating the win with an ace on match point.

“Today I won because I had the crowd behind me,” Monfils said. “They give me, let’s say, some wings.”

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Can Rafael Nadal win No. 10?

rafael-nadal-in-actio-against-quentin-halys-at-roland-garros-2015-1(Clive Brunskill/Getty Images Europe)

PARIS — This is the question that lingers in everyone’s minds here.

On his first visit inside Roland-Garros, the 19-year-old triumphed. Every May and June since 2005, he hasn’t lost. The only aberration was in 2009 when he lost in the fourth round to Robin Soderling, the Swede who has since being plagued by injury. In all, that’s 66 matches won in 67 tries.

Rafa has been victorious 9 times and he’s going for that double-digit here in Paris. Can he make it? From what I saw about four rows up on the stands inside the center court, the answer is Yes.

If Floyd Mayweather, Jr. calls MGM Garden his personal garden and if Michael Jordan soared in his airspace called the United Center in Chicago — then Stade Roland Garros is the home away from the Mallorcan home of Rafa.

Court Philippe Chatrier, their center court here, is not massive. I’ve been inside the Arthur Ashe Stadium and that 22,547-seater complex is humongous. While typing this, I’m looking around the rectangular-shaped arena and it’s magnifique. Green seats abound. Glass-enclosed partitions cover the TV booths. Digital screens sit on corners displaying scores. Down below, where, on a full-capacity house, the 14,840 pairs of eyes will focus, is the centerpiece tennis court.

It’s color brown. Officially, it’s “red clay” but, to my brown eyes, they’re brown. What makes this court different is the back-stop. It’s that open space behind the baseline. It’s a huge area — the ideal canvas where Nadal weaves his magic.

I watched Nadal’s match here on a “Super Tuesday.” Why super? Because you’ve got three salivating matches: Nadal first, Novak Djokovic next, followed by Serena Williams.

Rafa played a Frechman named Quentin Halys. The organizers couldn’t have picked (by the luck of draw) a better first-round opponent for the Spaniard. The French here, obviously the majority who watch, are fiercely patriotic. They clap; no, make that they “chant while clapping.” In unison, they all clap like a symphony orchestra to motivate their local guy. Because while they cheered for their adopted Parisian named Rafa, they cheered even louder for Halys. In the end, while the 18-year-old produced his slew of winners, he was no match to Rafa. The score: 6-3, 6-3, 6-4.

Djokovic followed. Wearing an orange shirt by Uniqlo, he looks supremely confident and tall at 6’2”. He should be. He’s been almost undefeated this entire season, including a win at the Australian Open last January. He’s won 8 Grand Slam singles titles but never the French Open. Twice, in 2012 and last year, he reached the final only to be thwarted by Rafa.

Will 2015 be Novak’s year? As much as I’m a confessed Rafa fan — I count Bobby Aboitiz, Frank Malilong, Fabby Borromeo, Ernie Delco, Bobby Lozada, Noy and Amale Jopson, and Fr. Joy Danao in the same camp — I think Rafa will lose next week. He’s ranked a lowly 7 and, by the bad luck of the draw (he himself picked the ball during the Draw Ceremony), he’ll meet Djokovic in the quarterfinals. That will be titanic. It’s sad that the two have to meet so early; but then maybe Rafa will leave in the same stage as he did against Soderling.
I closely watched Novak’s game and while he trailed 2-5 against Jarkko Nieminen, he clawed his way back to win in straight sets. The Serb has no weaknesses. His backhand is better than his forehand. His return of serve is as good as Agassi’s. His mind, that unseen mass that determines a win or loss, is as strong as Lance Armstrong on the bike. Like most here, I’m voting for him to win next Sunday.

Around here, you’ll see tennis greats lingering. Boris Becker occupies his usual spot at the players box. I watched how he took off his red jacket when the weather warmed. Seated four seats away was Novak’s wife, the blonde and beautiful Jelena. She wasn’t interested in her husband. She fiddled away with her phone.

In Rafa’s camp, the Spanish armada was all-present: coach/uncle Toni, Rafa’s parents, and his girlfriend, the beauteous Xisca Perello.

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Roland-Garros

PARIS — After three days of gazing at bicycles in Amsterdam and after an overnight hop to Brussels to sample Belgian chocolates and waffles, we arrived at the City of Light.

Yes, would you believe here in Europe now, at 9:40 at night… it’s still bright. The sun arises early before 6 and it doesn’t set until nearly 10 p.m. Which means, for this city with the illuminated Eiffel Tower, you’ll have endless time to walk the gardens, snap photos of the Louvre and crave on crepes and croissants.

The first stop for this tennis-crazy writer? Where else: Roland-Garros.

Here in Paris, they don’t call their tennis tournament “French Open.” That would make it too obvious. Roland Garros is the name of a World War I fighter pilot (not of a tennis legend). It is also the name of the Parisian tennis garden where, for two weeks, rackets will pulverize balls and rubber shoes will slide on sand.

My wife Jasmin, our 16-year-old daughter Jana and I are staying near the Opera district. On Monday morning at 9:25, I walked to the Metro station in Grands Boulevards and descended the flight of stairs. A speedy 25 minutes later, I emerged from Michel Ange Molitor.

As soon as I alighted from the Metro station, I knew I was in the correct place. A “STADE ROLAND GARROS” signage pointed the way. On the asphalted sidewalk, there was a spray-painted sign that read, “1100 meters away.”

Walking briskly (I didn’t want to look overly-excited by sprinting), I reached the gate alongside hordes of other tennis fanatics.

This is my second time inside Roland-Garros. But the first one was different: Back in 2001 with the Mendez family of my wife, we entered the empty complex in Sept. and toured staring at empty green seats and no one firing backhands on the 20 courts.

Last Monday was different. It was a holiday in France and thousands congregated inside (I couldn’t even buy tickets for Jasmin and Jana).

Roland-Garros is special because, like many landmarks that stand here like the Notre Dame Cathedral and the Versailles Palace, it is rich in history. Founded in 1891, it began as a tennis event limited only to male members of French clubs. Six years later, women competed in their own category. It wasn’t until 1925 when international netters were welcome.

I attempted to soak in all of this history two days ago. Before watching any balls being hit from right to left, I walked the hallowed grounds. Sculptures of tennis legends adorn the gardens. A museum houses the memories and moments. Names like Henri Cochet and Jean Borotra are sprinkled around walls.

Rene Lacoste, world famous for his clothing brand, is a three-time French Open champion. During his playing days, he was nicknamed the “Crocodile” for his ferocity on-court; thus, the logo of Lacoste.

Everyone here, naturally, wears Lacoste. All the umpires wear blue coats or T-shirts with the the crocodile logo. Same with the officials and linesman, in honor of their French star.

I got to see plenty of boxing last Monday. Yes, like Manny’s sport, tennis is one on one. (More challenging than boxing: no coach is allowed to converse with you.)

Fabio Fognini was a magnet for spectators in Court 2. He played Tatsumi Ito. For those who went to Plantation Bay in 2011 for the Davis Cup tie when we played Japan, you’ll remember the tall Japanese. He promptly lost to Fognini.

Soon after, Jasmin asked me on Viber: How are you doing? My reply: “I’m in tennis Disneyland.”

Two youngsters impressed me the most. One was Dominic Thiem. Only 21, the Austrian smothers that serve and forehand. Another kid to watch is Borna Coric, the former No.1 junior, who defeated Sam Querrey. That first-set tiebreaker was a thrill. Coric, only 18, is the youngest player in the Top 100 (he’s 46).

At Court Suzanne Lenglen, it was Gael Monfils who fueled much applause. He’s French and he reminds me of Yannick Noah. Remember the 6-foot-4 serve-and-volleyer (who’s the dad of the Chicago Bulls star, Joakim)? He won Roland-Garros in 1983 — the last Frenchman to win the men’s singles crown.

Biking in Amsterdam

AMSTERDAM — Jasmin, Jana and I spent three days in the “biking capital of the world.” Yes, if you’ve been to the top destination of The Netherlands, you’ll notice that everyone is riding a two-wheeled, human-powered vehicle.

“Amsterdam is the most bicycle-friendly capital city in the world,” says Wikipedia. “In Amsterdam, over 60% of trips are made by bike in the inner city and 40% of trips are made by bike overall in the greater city area.”

Would you believe that six out of every 10 trips that the Amsterdammers take are not on jeepneys (just kidding, they have trams and buses) but via the bicycle.

Amsterdam is not large. The population is one million and, all over the side streets and near the canals (it is home to over one hundred kilometers of canals), you see bicycles parked everywhere.

Here’s the interesting part: their bicycles are ugly. Pardon the word but they pay no attention to the looks of their bikes. The more “taya” (rusty), the better. The reason is because they park their bikes anywhere and they can easily be stolen. Thus, they opt for dirty, old and rotten bikes.

During our stay here, we did the traditional visits to their famous sights. The Van Gogh Museum is amazing. One of the great painters of all time, the Dutch artist has on display hundreds of art works. It’s a must-visit in this city. The canal cruise is another worthwhile trek. We also sat alongside the locals listening to classical Mozart music performed by the orchestra at the famous Concertgebouw

At the Vondelpark, the largest park in Amsterdam, Jasmin and I ran seven kilometers. It’s a beautiful and refreshing open space filled with gardens, ponds and grass fields. You see so many into sports: football, jogging, cycling, roller-blading. (A not-so-funny sight that proliferates this city and the park? Coffee-inhaling people. By “coffee,” I don’t mean Starbucks aroma but marijuana. Yes, smoking pot is legal in Amsterdam — same with prostitution — and you see “coffee shops” everywhere.)

On running, thousands and thousands here run. I recall, back in October 2009, our closest buddies joining the Amsterdam Marathon. Doctors Albert Santos and Vic Verallo were joined by Meyrick “Jacs” Jacalan and the Ong siblings, Jane-Jane, Andrew and Nica, in finishing the Amsterdam Marathon. Perl Jacalan did the 21K.

Back to our three-day trek here, the activity that we enjoyed most was the four-hour Biking Tour. We enlisted in Mike’s Bike Tours and, among the choices that included a City Tour, we enrolled in the Countryside Tour.

Starting at 11 a.m. here last Friday, we joined 30 others. After a briefing by our tour guide Vincent, we chose our individual bikes and started pedaling. Riding single-file, it’s a terrific way to explore Amsterdam. Every roadway here has a bike lane. Located between the road (for cars) and the sidewalk (for pedestrians), the clearly-marked bike pathway is that safe area for bikers.

We toured the city streets before heading towards the famous Amstel River. It’s a scenic ride. The temperature was a cool 17C degrees and we pedaled inhaling fresh air and gazing at countryside homes.

The windmill was one of our major stops. The Riekermolen Windmill, built in 1636, was huge. After posing for some photos and visiting the statue of Rembrandt, we headed off and visited the Rembrandthoeve farm. We listened to Dutch farmers explain how to make Gouda cheese and they demonstrated how to make the traditional art of making wooden shoes. Next, it was back to the bike and a lot more pedaling through, as their official website reads, “the polder landscape with it’s rectilinear ditches and dikes.” By 3 p.m., we were back to the garage to park the bikes.

My realization: Biking is good. It’s free exercise. I know our roads are narrow and there are no dedicated bike lanes. (On a positive note, I applaud the DPWH for extending the road for bikers in the climb up to Busay.)

We should bike more. Just ask the Dutch.

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Vios Cup in Cebu

To move forward. That’s the Latin meaning of the word “Vios.”

Yesterday and today, it’s all about moving forward. Forty four modified racing vehicles — all Toyota Vios cars colored red, black and gray — will move fast forward as they compete in the Vios Cup race in Cebu.

I passed-by the SRP yesterday morning. White tents stood erect. Barricades cordoned the road. Clean asphalt glistened in the 33-degree sun. A large stage where non-stop partying will transpire loomed tall at the Sugbu Building. It’s the Vios Cup — a first for Cebu!

Vios-cup(www.motioncars.inquirer.net)

“The much-acclaimed One Make Race in the country,” read the official website, “will be held for the first time in the Visayas region wherein gearheads and car fans can witness what waku-doki is all about!”

What’s “waku-doki?” It’s a Japanese term for feeling super-excited. It’s that adrenaline rush that envelopes the body before a racing event.

Toyota, the world’s top-selling automaker (they sold an estimated 10.23 million vehicles last year), is bringing the Vios Cup outside of Luzon. Consider ourselves lucky. Cebu doesn’t own a race track like the Clark International Speedway — but we have the South Road Properties. And all the racing this weekend will converge at the SRP.

The Qualifying Rounds took place yesterday. Today, the main event happens. As early as 7 a.m., the participants are expected to arrive at the SRP. Between 8 to 9 a.m. today, they’ll rev their engines, check their tires and perform some warm-up circles. The Opening Program commences at 11 and, by 12 noon, the race proper begins.

The Vios Cup offers two categories: the Sporting Class and the Promotional Class. The Sporting Class riders are composed of the top tier of racers; the Promotional Class involves the celebrities and those who did not make the cuf-off in the Sporting Class.

The race track or “circuit” at the SRP will be near the Sugbu Building and Lantaw Native Restaurant. According to race director JP Tuason of the Toyota Racing School, the circuit is 2.2 kms. long. It’s not a long uninterrupted stretch but several winding turns and stops. Tuason describes it as “a medium to high-speed track featuring several chicanes (turns).”

You want to see celebrities? Derek Ramsey is joining. There’s also a DK Drift Exhibition by Japanese expert Keiichi Tsuchiya. If you watched Tokyo Drift (the Fast and Furious movie), you’ll watch the real performance today, slated around 12:45 p.m.

But more than the celebrities, the ones to look for are our homegrown Cebuano participants. Jette Calderon, the famous go-kart champion from Cebu, is joining. He’s bannering the “Toyota Cebu Mandaue South” team. The others from Cebu include Lord Seno, Sean Velasco, Harold Ong and Oscar Suarez.

Another Cebuano is Daniel Miranda. Although he now lives in Manila, he was a long-time Cebuano resident. We’ve known Daniel — the son of Martin and Angie Miranda — as a go-kart champion; he’s one of the top riders to watch this weekend.

In the Cebu Daily News article “Race Ready” yesterday by my fellow sportswriters Jonas Panerio and Dale Rosal, the 18-year-old Miranda was quoted as saying, “It’s good (I’m here) because it’s  an opportunity for my friends to see me race.”

The CDN article continues: “‘Getting the right set-up and to be consistent with driving,’ said Miranda on what he thinks will be the significant keys to taking home the crown this weekend… The youngster also believes that the valuable experience he gained in karting will serve him well in the one-make race that features Toyota’s most salable vehicle, the Vios.

“‘It’s an advantage that I have background in karting, it makes it easier to adapt with the race conditions,’ boldly proclaimed Miranda.”

I repeat: The Vios Cup is the first of its kind ever in Cebu. Thanks to Toyota (and with the help of Meyrick and Perl Jacalan of ASAP Advertising), we’ll all be witnesses to this road race. Admission is free. The race proper runs from 12 noon to 5 p.m.

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What’s wrong with Rafa?

He’s slipped to No. 7. He lost to Andy Murray, whom he’s never lost to before on clay, in Madrid. He’s on a four-loss record on clay (the worst since he was a teenager). Heading into Rome, this is the worst preparation he’s encountered so far.

His reply? Classic Nadal. “I cannot leave Madrid not happy. I have to leave happy and just delete what happened today. I will just stay with the good things that happened this week, and there are a lot of them, more good than bad. I will try to recover the good feelings in Rome.”

Champions, they say, need to have both long and short memories. Long memories to remember how good they are (Nadal’s a 14-time Grand Slam champ) and short enough to forget the most recent loss.

With the major prize coming up in Paris in two weeks, I can’t wait. First-hand, I’ll watch if Rafa can win his 10th French Open trophy.

Tom Brady

Last Sunday, I published the comments of Dan Mastous, my long-time American friend who, although he’s a Dallas Cowboys fan, thought that the New England Patriots should not be punished. Well, the verdict is out and it’s severe: four games suspension for Brady and $1 million in fines (plus no upcoming draft picks).

To the non-NFL fan, four games might be very few — but in the NFL, this is plenty. Consider that while MLB (baseball) has 162 games in the regular season and the NBA has 82, the NFL only has 16 regular season games. Why so few? Because NFL is all about physical contact. It’s two giants colliding; a defender ramming a quarterback while he’s not looking; helmets head-butting; it’s 275-lb. musclemen jumping on top of each other.

Brady’s four-game suspension appears to be one of the most severe penalties ever handed, especially to a mighty superstar. It’s like informing Lionel Messi that he can’t play for two months. Like Dana White telling Jon Bones Jones that he’s suspended indefinitely. (He is!)

I agree with the suspension. Based on the findings — though there was no personal admission and no witnesses saw the actual “DeflateGate” — it was clear that cheating ensued. And even if the act was inconsequential, cheating is cheating. It has no place in sports. To condone it will be a terrible message for the public, particularly to the youth.

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My picks? Clippers-Warriors, Cavs-Hawks

Everybody happy. That’s the term we use in tennis when, midway through a tough fight, the score is all-square. It’s a tie. In the NBA, three of the four quarterfinal games scored 2-all. Isn’t this terrific? This is what fans want. A best-of-seven contest that’s become two-out-of-three.

The Golden State Warriors lost a home game but, after winning the other day, they’re back. Same with Cleveland. Missing Kevin Love, they turned-over the home court advantage to Chicago — but that was before LeBron James’ buzzer-beater in Game 4. That shot was amazing. In the previous game, it was Derrick Rose who performed that incredible three-point bank shot. In an MVP vs. MVP duel, LeBron seized the opportunity in Game 4 and fired his own winning shot. Plus, did you see LeBron’s block on Rose in yesterday’s win?

In a few days’ time, I expect the four remaining teams (out of the league’s 30 squads) to be the LA Clippers vs. the Warriors and the Cavs against the Atlanta Hawks.

Of Chris Paul and Blake Griffin and the other less-famous Los Angeles team, the Clippers are on a basketball roll. After that escape against the defending champs Spurs (when they were down 2-3), they’ve embarrassed the Rockets. In the next round, everybody’s looking forward to this all-California encounter: Clippers-Warriors.

Thus far, this NBA season has been one of the most thrilling. We had the move of LeBron back to his hometown. We had the unbelievable season of Steph — one of the greatest displays of shooting that we’ve seen. We witnessed his MVP rivalry with Harden, Westbrook and LeBron. (In the end, it was not close: Curry won 100 of 130 first-place votes.)

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