Category: Tennis

If you love tennis, this week is your week. When you switch on the Samsung TV, red clay is on SkyCable’s channel 33. It’s the French Open. It’s the only major played on the planet’s slowest surface. Five-hour-long matches that put you to sleep? White socks stained by dirt that turn into brown? Dust flying? Sweat flooding the tennis rectangle? These are all common. It’s Roland Garros.

In Cebu, this week is the same. It’s the annual Cebuana Lhuillier Men’s Open at the Baseline tennis courts. The surface? The same as France. Only, it’s “mestizo” colored, not red. But it’s similar: clay-court.

Roger Federer is the men’s No.1. He’s the French Open defending champion. Same with ours. Johnny Arcilla is RP’s numero uno. He’s the C. Lhuillier winner in 2009.

In Paris, the matches are scheduled to suit us, the Filipino TV audience. Consider that the first match begins around 5 p.m. (RP time) and the games last past midnight. Isn’t this perfect for us?

Here in the Queen City of the South, the country’s top men’s players begin work at 9 a.m. today. Arcilla plays first. He’s seeded one. The whole day today, tomorrow, until Sunday, it’s all-volleys, all-forehands, all-day-long.

I know someone who’ll be all-smiling. Atty. Frank Malilong, my idol on these Sun.Star pages, who calls Baseline his tennis home. He’ll watch the games daily. Same on TV: he’ll cheer for this player family-named Nadal (ever heard of him?) who, like Frank, is left-handed and generates tremendous topspin off his ground-strokes.

PJ Tierro, the 6-foot-1 Filipino tennis star is also in Cebu. Late yesterday afternoon at Baseline, still dripping from sweat after a backhand workout, we talked. He’s confident. And eager to avenge his twin losses here to Johnny A.: at last year’s Cebuana Lhuillier final and, just two weeks ago, at the Mandaue Men’s Open. Watch for PJ.

Back to Roland Garros, the question most often asked is this: Who’s your pick, R or R? I say Roger. I say Rafael. It’s hard to pick between the duo. First, you’ve got two of the nicest human beings alive. Unlike the days of McEnroe or Nastase or Connors, here are the most humble and courteous superstars who, in case we forget, won 18 of the last 20 Grand Slam singles titles. Yes. Roger collared 12; Rafa, 6 — starting from the 2005 French Open that Nadal won until last January’s 2010 Australian Open, won by the Swiss. What a one-two, combination-domination by R-R.

But pressed to pick the winner next Sunday? Ha-ha. Never the gambler, I choose R. I mean Rafa. How can you argue against a four-time French Open winner who won three Masters clay-court titles the past month? I know Mrs. Chinggay Utzurrum, the most avid of Federer fans who prays the rosary while Roger plays, will disagree with me. For this is the beauty of this rivalry: it’s even. Roger has his millions of devotees while Rafa has his zealots. They, too, number in the millions. Let’s hope, before we argue, that, in this 128-man draw, one Swiss and a Spaniard meet.

Volleying back to Cebu: Apart from the men’s open which features all the country’s best, there’ll be an age-group tournament. No, this isn’t your usual 18 years and under age-group. It’s for adults. Three categories are open to all doubles players: 35-and-older, 40-, and 45-and-above. Registration is for free. Just visit Baseline today to enlist; the event begins tomorrow. All thanks to Jun and April Toledo, the organizers, for bringing this spectacle each summer to Cebu — and to Jean Henri Lhuillier, the former U.S. varsity college player, for supporting the sport he loves most.

Again, whether it’s Paris on TV or our local boys at Baseline, what a smashing week to come.

Another rivalry, after the two previous ones I enumerated—PSC vs. POC and the Celtivs vs. the Lakers—is the one that will smash our TV screens starting this Sunday. It’s tennis. It’s Paris. It’s one of the four Grand Slams. It’s Rafa against Roger. It’s the French Open.

To tennis buffs like Bob Lozada, Michelle So, Fabby Borromeo, Emma Siao, Reneeven Polinar, Ernie Delco and the thousands of others from Cebu who move their eyes left-right, left-right, left-right while watching TV tennis… the left-right action is back. The Rivalry is back. It started last Sunday when R & R met in Madrid. It began at Wimbledon when they met thrice in the finals. It heated up Down Under, in Australia.

When the French Open (Roland Garros) begins this weekend and operates for two weeks, all eyes will be on the two 6-foot-1, Nike endorsers.

Johnny Arcilla is in Cebu. He’s the No.1 tennis player of our nation’s 7,107 islands. PJ Tierro, the No. 2 player and Johnny’s nemesis, is 6-foot-1 tall. He’s also in town. The duo are joined by several others from Manila, all holding either Babolat or Wilson or Prince or Head racquets, all swinging volleys, firing aces, spinning backhands. They’re here for the Mayor Jonas Cortes Men’s Open tournament which started yesterday and continues until Sunday at the Mandaue Tennis Complex (beside the Sports Complex).

It’s Wimbledon in Cebu. For this is a major. Rarely do we witness top-class tennis action and so, if you’re a fan of Roger or Rafa or Roddick, watch the closest international-caliber games you can at the Mandaue Reclamation.

Thanks to Atty. Lito Pascual (a huge tennis buff who plays each morning and is the city’s top sports official), Jun Saberon (the organizer) and, of course, Mayor Jonas Cortes, for this French Open-like event (both have similar clay-court surfaces). A big Congratulations-In-Advance also goes to Jess Lagman, the father of Jacob (one of RP’s top junior netters), who is the Regional Vice-President of the Philippine Tennis Association (Philta) in Cebu.

Games start 8 in the morning and last until the early evening. Please drop-by and watch. That’s today until Sunday.

LHUILLIER. Next month, from May 23 to 30, another huge spectacle will tennis-smash Cebu. It’s the 3rd Cebuana Lhuillier Men’s Open and expect Johnny and PJ plus even more of RP’s best to participate. This event will be, like it’s been the past two years, at the Baseline Recreation Center’s twin courts.

What’s new about the Lhuillier Games are the club-level, age-category events that will transpire before the Men’s Open. There will be categories for the 35-, 40-, and 45-years-and-older. This, I’m sure, will excite Cebuano players. Watch for this and join!

AGE-GROUP. Apart from these twin Professional Men’s events, there are at least six consecutive junior tournaments this summer in Cebu.

The Head-Smart Age Group event kicked it off in Lapu-Lapu City last week. This was followed by another Head-Smart netfest at the Cebu Country Club. These will be followed, starting today, by the Palawan Pawnshop Junior event, the Prince Age-Group, the 15th Gullas Cup and the Milo Tennis Eliminations. Six contests, one-after-the-other.

Yesterday was a momentous occasion in the life of a momentous person. Fifty years ago yesterday, on Tres De Abril, 1960, God’s favored spokesman became a priest. “It happened on the fifth Sunday of Lent,” said Monsignor Achilles Dakay, “and, to my recollection, there has never been a ‘fifth Sunday of Lent’ in the past 50 years.”

Yes, 50 years. That’s 18,250 days. Consider that it in April 1960, the Sinulog Festival had not yet started, our president was Carlos P. Garcia, and the top-grossing Hollywood movie was Ocean’s Eleven starring Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr.

Today, Monsignor Dakay is the official spokesman of His Eminence, Ricardo Cardinal Vidal. He has the title, Media Liaison Officer. And while the media interview our highly articulate Monsignor almost weekly on matters of the Cebu Archidiocese, what the public may not know about him is that he’s a sports buff.

“I love the LA Lakers,” he told me two nights ago when I phoned him. “My sister lives in Los Angeles and, one time, I watched Shaq and Kobe.”

But the sport Monsignor enjoys the most? Tennis. “It all started when I was in the Seminary at the UST (University of Sto. Tomas) in 1955,” he said. “Our sports director then loved sports. And so, right across the street, we’d have these top Cebuano players like Saberon, Tancinco, Nap Flores and Manulat visiting and playing basketball.

“Then, during my seven years stay at UST, that’s where I first learned tennis. It was Johnny Jose, the top Filipino player, who taught us tennis on the UST cement court.”

That year was 1955—or 55 years ago. “Since then,” he said, “I have been playing everyday.” Everyday? “Well,” he answered, laughing, “every sunny day.”

Because Monsignor Dakay resides at the Archbishop’s Palace, his favorite choice of play is the one nearest: the Casino Español de Cebu. “I’m part of the first four who play,” he said, starting their doubles encounter at 4 p.m. “Roy Gopuco, Bob Go, Alfonso Tan, Doming Garcia, Donald Ruiz, Kits Borromeo, Ann Cuenco, Heide Mesina—these are the people I play with.”

Msgr. Dakay (2nd left) with Ponsoy Tan, Roy Gopuco and Bob Go

How impassioned a player is Msgr. Dakay? In a trip to Rome five years ago, instead of squeezing every extra minute to sight-see, like we all would, he told me, “I stayed at the Colegio Filipino where all the Filipino priests and students stayed.. and, of course, we played tennis everyday at their in-house court!”

That’s not all. Because if you think playing tennis in Rome is special, how about this: Monsignor Dakay has been to the mecca of tennis, Wimbledon. “Two times,” he said. “The first was in 1999 with Monsignor Eliseo Gamallo. We saw Lindsay Davenport beat Steffi Graf to win the trophy.”

His next trip to London was in 2003 when, he said “the Williams sisters met in the finals.” And, while admitting what we already know—“that there’s no place on earth like Wimbledon”—Monsignor offered a tip to anyone salivating to visit Wimbledon: “You’ve got to try those strawberries and cream!”

How about the US Open in New York? Sure. “I’ve also been there twice, the latest one several years ago when I met up with a few Cebuanos.”

The Italian Open? “That’s another one I’ve watched,” he said. “I’m very fortunate because three times in the past, I accompanied Cardinal Vidal to visit Rome and the Italian Open would be timed during this visit.”

His favorite player of all time? Bjorn Borg. Maybe because, as I’ve watched Monsignor play countless times at the Casino Español, his strength—his forehand topspin—is just like the Swede’s powerful spinning shot. “I’ve always been a Borg fan,” he said. “But now, seeing Nadal, with the emotions and passion he brings to the court, and not the type who plays like a machine, I cheer for him.”

Finally, as our conversation ended last Friday night—a Good Friday—I asked for his final “tips.”

“He who does not hope to win has already lost,” he recited in his familiar deep-sounding voice and perfect English. Then, he added one more… “Life is like tennis. He who serves well, seldom loses.”

Like Borg and McEnroe, Evert or Navratilova, Federer vs. Nadal, there stood two enemies in the 1990s: Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi. I sided with Pete. Not now. Not in this battle between books. Having read the memoir of Pete Sampras, “A Champion’s Mind: Lessons From A Life In Tennis,” a year ago and having consumed, in just several hours of nonstop reading yesterday, Andre’s tell-all, “Open: An Autobiography,” it’s a no contest. Agassi beats Sampras in straight sets.

I love AA’s book. It’s funny. It’s shocking. It’s no-holds-barred. It’s absorbing. So unlike Sampras’ book where, if you ask me now, I can hardly remember anything. Not Agassi. The most colorful character in tennis. He dated Barbra Streisand. He sniffed shabu. He helped “discover” Celine Dion. He wore a wig (deceiving the admirers of his then-blonde, flowing hair). And, to me, the most shocking of all revelations: He despised tennis.

His father, Mike, an Olympic boxer for Iran, treated his youngest child like a slave. He allowed him to skip school to play tennis. He forced him to eat, fantasize, work, sleep, study one word: Tennis. Andre hated and loathed and abhorred the game. Unbelievable.

Sins? Ahh. The 388-page hardbound book, sent to me by fellow columnist Michelle So and owned by tennis left-hander Atty. Frank Malilong, exposes plenty. The most scandalous of all is Andre’s taking crystal meth. He didn’t sniff the drug for years. He took it maybe a few times. But the fact that he did engage in drugs and lied about it with the ATP officials–then revealed it in this written story is startling.

But Agassi is Agassi. He’s open. He’s honest. Today. And he did the right act by divulging that sin. Why? Simply because this book is not fictional; it’s a diary, a confession, a tell-all. For him to have hidden this dark episode would have made him a fraud. (And deprived the publisher of millions more in book sales!)

The autobiography also hurts people with its openness. Take Sampras. Agassi insults his arch-rival. First, he describes Pete as more robotic than his pet, a parrot named Peaches. On another occasion, he says Pete is cheap when he tipped a parking valet only $1. Wrote Agassi: “I envy Pete’s dullness. I wish I could emulate his spectacular lack of inspiration, and his peculiar lack of need for inspiration.” Ouch.

The book also recounted all of Agassi’s major triumphs. His Wimbledon conquest. His Australian Open titles. His U.S. Open victories. His come-from-behind French Open win. But more than tennis-talk, this book was a love story. For Agassi is a romantic. A love story not so much with Brooke Shields, his wife from 1997 to 1999, but more so with a player you might have heard of: Graf. Stephanie.

For who’d have known, had he not revealed it, that Andre has kept, from way, way back, a secret crush on Ms. Graf? Their love story is titillating. How he sent her flowers (while her boyfriend was there). How he wet the piece of paper with Steffi’s phone number and panicked to retrieve it. This love story I found most riveting. For who would have imagined a better-than-a-movie ending: the only two people to have won all four Grand Slam titles plus the Olympic gold medal… Only Mr. and Mrs. Agassi.

Funny. That’s what this book is also about. It has hundreds of episodes that will make you laugh. In page 191, for example, Agassi loses in the 1994 French Open to Thomas Muster. But he’s angry for a different reason. “At the net he rubs my head, musses my hair. Apart from being condescending, his gesture nearly dislodges my hairpiece… I stare at him with pure hatred. Big mistake, Muster. Don’t ever touch the hair.”

The book is, most of all, well-written. Co-authored by J. R. Moehringer, a Pulitzer Prize winner, the words are compelling and irresistible. (So impressed by the writing, I visited Fully Booked and bought another Moehringer book, The Tender Bar.)

In summary, this book you MUST READ. Tennis fan or not, it’s one of the best autobiographies I’ve ever read.

Pop Sabandon is dead. Last Friday past 11 p.m., as he exited the hospital after visiting his father-in-law in Gen. Santos City, Pop was shot twice in the head. Shocking. Pop was one of the top tennis players of our land: a former Davis Cup player, he was ranked as high as RP # 3 just a few Februarys ago. But more than his tennis prowess, he was one of the most cheerful and enthusiastic of men.

Last April, he was in Cebu. Joining the Cebuana Lhuillier Men’s Open at Baseline, he entertained the crowd with his bandana-on-the-forehead look and style of play that was aggressive and captivating. One occasion I recall was our dinner last year with Jean-Henri Lhuillier and the rest of the players at Mr. A in Busay. Pops was the star. He sang. He drank. He joked. He smiled. He was simply a lovable, outgoing person.

According to Cebuano tennis ace Michael Quiñones, one of his closest friends here, Pop was a few days away from leaving for Hong Kong for a possible tennis coaching profession. He was only 28.

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