IN FOOTBALL, one of the year’s major events happened last Saturday and Sunday. The Mizuno Cup gathers children as young as five years old, teenagers, college co-eds, varsity stars, and dads aged 40 years old and older. I dropped by the games last Saturday night and took a few photos…
Fr. Ton-Ton Zamora (2nd from right) with Mrs. Ma. Corazon Medalla (left), Badette Andres and this writer
In tennis, when you say you “love” someone, that means you hate that person. It means you beat him with a score of 8-0. For in this game, “love” means zero.
Take the case of Fr. Antonio “Ton-Ton” Zamora, Jr. Early this week, Fr. Ton-Ton was in the mood for “love.” We were partners in the Intramurals of the University of San Carlos—the 40-year-old Parish Priest of Danao City taking up his Doctorate degree in Educational Administration; this writer enrolling in Education units to prepare for a Masters in Education diploma—and the two of us represented the USC College of Education.
Fr. Ton-Ton, whom I’ve known as one of this island’s nicest clergymen, loves to “love” people. In his first match against a player representing Pharmacy, the score was 8-love. The next day, in the Semis against Nursing, the score was 8-love. Finally, in the Finals against Commerce, the score? Fr. Ton: 8. Opponent: Love.
Mrs. Ma. Corazon Medalla, the Chairperson for the Teacher Education Dept. of the College of Education, cheered throughout our matches. She jokingly remarked, “Fr. Ton-Ton is the only priest I know na walay kaluoy (who doesn’t have compassion).” I laughed. So did our coach, the youthful secretary of the Dean, Badette Andres.
At the end of the Intrams, we won the tennis championship—the first time ever for the USC College of Education—thanks to Fr. Ton-Ton’s “overflowing love.”
Manny and Gerry… that’s Jingo Quijano and me at the back
Last Monday (August 20), two world boxing champions sat beside each other. Manny Pacquiao and Gerry Penalosa. The venue was at the Cebu City Marriot Hotel and the press were invited to listen to the thoughts of these two RP heroes. One just arrived home from America smiling and bringing to Cebu the world title belt. The other will be heading for America, hopefully to smile and bring home his own world title belt. Congratulations to Gerry! Good luck to Manny!
With Cebu City Councilor Jack Jakosalem
Two plus one: with former champ Dodie Boy Penalosa
INTRAMS. Don’t you love the sound of that word? Intramurals. Sportsfest. One full week of no Math, books, lectures, Science, blackboards. One full week of cheering, eating junk food, running, wearing sleeveless shirts.
I love Intrams. To me, it’s the best week of the entire school year.
Two days ago, I visited the sprawling and humongous brand-new Mandaue campus of the Cebu Doctors’ University. I sat in as one of the judges of the Miss Intrams. Six beauties paraded. Hundreds danced. Thousands clapped.
Yesterday, I strolled inside another site: the University of San Carlos Main campus. Six volleyball players faced six enemies across the net. Nearby, tennis players volleyed and smashed while the swimmers plunged to the pool.
I love Intrams. In elementary at the La Salle Bacolod, I recall sprinting the 100-meter dash and competing in games named basketball, volleyball, football. As a Grade 5 student, I sat alongside High School and College students—they mixed us with the upper levels—and, while swapping high-fives with teenagers, felt like a “big boy.”
This is not about sports. It’s about a gadget so revolutionary that it’s captivated Americans and geeks the world over. It’s a music player. A device that connects to the WWW. A phone. It can retrieve your e-mail, play “Bourne Ultimatum,” run YouTube videos, take 2-megapixel pictures, and zoom in on Fuente Osmena using Google Earth.
Know what it is? Here’s more: It’s screen-size is the biggest of any phone: 3.5 inches wide. It was so awe-inspiring when it launched last January that tech writers have hailed it as “the most-awaited gadget in history.”
Know what it is? Impossible if you don’t. So, here it is: “Steve Jobs’ toy.” Yes, that’s what it’s called. It’s an iPod in a phone merged into a super-slim metal that’s thinner (thickness: 0.46 inch) than your 30G iPod Video.
The iPhone. Has there ever been a product that’s generated more buzz? Never. All because of one man whom I consider—right alongside Bill Gates—as the greatest tech entrepreneur of all-time, Steven Paul Jobs.
At exactly 6 this Sunday morning, Dr. Potenciano Larrazabal Jr. fired the starting gun to commence the annual Cebu Doctors’ University Run. There were three categories: 3K, 6K and 13K.
There were thousands of Cebu Doc students, MEPZ runners, and ordinary folks like myself who joined. My good friend from the Rotary Club of Cebu West, Andrew Jimenez, joined the 6K. So did my wife Jasmin. So did four men who work at Jasmin’s office: JohnRy (who placed 8th in the 6K), Joani, Dennis and Jorem.
I joined the 13K, the longest distance I’ve ever ran. My time? 1:16:22. Not bad. Though it was 10 minutes off the winning time (Doctors division) of Dr. Potenciano “Yong” Larrazabal III, who clocked, 1:06… I’m happy. We started at the brand-new CDU campus at the Mandaue reclamation and jogged all the way to the Marcelo B. Fernan Bridge. We climbed it, ran downhill, made a U-turn, climbed back again, downhill again and ran back to the CDU campus. In my Nike iPod plus, the distance meter ran 14.56 kms. It was exhilarating!
Dr. Yong Larrazabal winning the Doctors division. To his right is Dr. Peter Mancao (who placed third) with Dr. Potenciano Larrazabal Jr. awarding the winners
Michael Domingo (center) with Mayor Jonas Cortes (right) and City Administrator Briccio Boholst
They call him ALA. Pronounced just like the God of our Muslim friends, he’s the Lord of Cebu Boxing. He hails from Iloilo, studied in La Salle Bacolod, built his business empire in Cebu, transformed it into a Philippine conglomerate and, when we speak of the sport named Boxing, he’s conquered Earth.
Antonio Lopez Aldeguer. Is there a sportsman more befitting the title, “Cebuano Great?” He is. Over a span of two decades or more, he has developed and housed and nurtured dozens, hundreds, thousands of athletes with red gloves on their bare knuckles.
Talk about sports tourism? He has done more for Cebu than any other. Last Sunday’s World Cup? Mexico versus Philippines? That wasn’t Mexico vs. RP. That was Mexico versus….. Cebu! For except for Diosdado Gabi, weren’t all the five ring artists sculptured here in our hometown?
Boxing is at its peak today. No less than Oscar de la Hoya is flying to Malacañang—and maybe, to Cebu—to pay homage. Thanks to one man whose passion, generosity, vision and selflessness are as rib-breaking as that left hook of Gerry Penalosa.
ALA, as we stand and applaud, take a bow.
Did you know that the “World Cup,” the trophy that the Philippines won against Mexico when we beat them 5-1 last Sunday, is all-gold and littered with diamonds? And, that it’s worth P23 million? I held it for a few seconds while Dong Secuya took some photos and… it’s heavy! It should be, if it’s all gold and sparkling diamonds. Bobby Inoferio (above photo), a man I love talking to because he’s so entertaining and full of energy, is all smiles with the World Cup. And so is Joan Danao (one of the top honchos at the Marriot Hotel, shown below with the Marriot staff).
AJ Banal
Last night, a Wednesday evening, I was at the Marriot Hotel from 9:30 until 12 midnight. The ballroom was jampacked. Cameras clicked. Eyes enlarged at the sight of the men seated on the Presidential Table. Their names? Boom-Boom. AJ. Michael Domingo. Z. You know them. Watched them last Sunday. They arrived just yesterday from the U.S. and, after a few hours of speaking with the Manila press, they flew back home… to Cebu. It was a gathering with the press. Boom-Boom was honest in defeat. The others jubilant in victory. Enjoy these photos…
Boom-Boom with trainer Edito Villamor and my fellow columnist, Atty. Jingo Quijano
One punch. All it took was one punch.
For Gerry Penalosa, he played defense on the first round, blocked with his two red gloves on the second, jabbed in the third, then, all the way until the seventh, he stood relaxed. Maybe too relaxed. He was losing. Sev Sarmenta and Dyan Castillejo saw it, you and I saw it, Jhonny Gonzalez saw it. And then… BANG!
One punch. It was a left wallop at the rib cage of the lanky Mexican, who took two hops backward then knelt on both legs and hands. GERRY WON! GERRY WON! Who would have believed it? Didn’t you jump? Scream? Feel proud for the 35-year-old, who became the oldest-ever Filipino world champ?
One punch. For Rey Bautista, all it took was, ironically, one punch. He didn’t hide or spar or warm up the enemy—he brawled with the brawler, faced him face front, flirted with the bare-chested monster. And then… BOOOM!
One punch. It dazed Boom-Boom, wobbled his knees, clouded his vision. It thwacked like a cannonball. Struck with the impact of a Caterpillar bulldozer. Boom-Boom stood up, but it was all over…
Wasn’t it shocking? Minutes after Gerry’s shocking win… this? Win after win after win—five straight—hadn’t we grown accustomed to winning? To celebrating? To ordering another San Mig Light? To toasting the bottle on the air? And, tell I’m wrong, weren’t the words “Six-Zero” and “How embarrassing for the Mexicans…” pasted on our minds?