Written Some Months Ago and Never Made Public

  A Dangerous Love Affair

The high-pitched squeak of rubber soles on a rubber floor. The echoing thud of a basketball as it’s dribbled across the court. The inarticulate yells of players as they attempt to pass, catch, fake, score. The shrill sound of a whistle as a referee calls the foul. And the deafening ring of the buzzer as it signals the end of play. Five months ago, these sounds meant nothing to me, were as unfamiliar to my ears as Jay-Z’s rapping would be to Mozart. Today, they feel almost like home.  

What happened in the time between? It’s simple: I fell in love.

It all began last May, when ABS-CBN Sports declared open the auditions for courtside reporters for Season 72 of the University Athletics Association of the Philippines (UAAP). I remember being all nerves as I stood in front of a camera for the first time, microphone in hand, before a panel of ABS-CBN producers.

Now there were probably 150 people from different schools who tried out that day. There are eight UAAP universities. It was a miracle that I managed to squeeze past two auditions, one workshop, and 142 other people to make the lineup. The day that Direk Abet Ramos welcomed me into the ABS-CBN Sports family is a milestone in my life: it was a step towards my dream of becoming a broadcaster, and I felt absolutely golden.

But that didn’t last long. Two weeks later I went to my first Blue Eagles practice at Moro Lorenzo Gym. The first person I met was Andre Bucasas, one of the team physiotherapists.

“You’re the new courtside reporter,” he said. It wasn’t a question. I nodded, and we fell to talking about me and how I came to be there. It came out that I work as a jock at a local radio station, and immediately Dre said, “Be careful. DJs have a reputation of not succeeding as courtside reporters.” Strike One. (Thanks a lot, Dre!)

After that I went to say hello to the team manager, Paolo Trillo, who then introduced me to Coach Norman Black. There has been little in my life more intimidating than going up to tall, imposing Coach Norman and shaking his hand for the first time. Worse, that happened to be the precise moment when both men noticed that I was wearing… (gasp!) green. Strike Two. Needless to say I zipped up my purple jacket immediately, and have since been an avid collector of blue shirts.

As far as I know, I haven’t hit Strike Three yet. I hope I never do.

Before practice ended that day, Coach Norman made me join the team huddle to introduce me to the boys. The boys! A great big part of the reason that I fell so hard for basketball is the boys. At the time, I could only recognize a few of them: Rabeh Al-Hussaini, Jai Reyes, Nonoy Baclao. To my horror, I was asked to lead the prayer, which, because I was so nervous, became nothing more than a few mumbled, incoherent lines. But it was then, after the prayer, that I got my first taste of what it feels to be part of the Ateneo Blue Eagles. A shiver ran down my spine as Coach Norman said, “Ateneo!” and the boys responded, “One Big Fight!”

The rest of the season was a blur of blue and white. I did my first game, then my second, then my fourteenth. Then my last. Along the way I learned that: it’s de-fense and not de-fense; large crowds can be fun, inspiring, immature, and infuriating all at once; Coach Norman smiles a lot; modesty is a tough trait for Ateneans to learn; and the only feeling better than winning is winning twice in a row.

But even if we hadn’t won, the past four months have been so rich with perfect little gems of memories—from the first fake report I did in front of the coaching staff, to the cooler of ice-cold water that the boys poured over my head after that final game—that I still would have counted my last report as a winning moment.

And so, like any true and worthwhile love affair, this one was intensely passionate, but ended at the peak of its heat. There are days, now, when I ache for the roar of the crowd at the Araneta Coliseum, for the chatter of the commentators in my ear, for the rush of being in front of a camera with a report I wrote all on my own.  

There is absolutely no question about how fantastic this season has been for me. I am so profoundly honored at having been given the chance to report for my school at the UAAP. There are so many people I want to thank for it, but the space here would probably fill right up. All I’ll say is, if it hadn’t been for them, I would have been obliviously, miserably deprived of these brand-new loves of mine. And there are a lot of them, as I have fallen dangerously in love with the UAAP, with my team, with my school, with this job.

Why dangerous? Because I’ll be hard put to let it all go. I wish I could relive the season again. There’s no guarantee I can do it again for another year, and I definitely can’t go any longer than that. Beyond that, memories are all I’ll have to hold on to. Still, I’m thankful. Thankful, and proud! Of the boys, of the coaches, of the managers, of the school, and even, let me say it, of myself.

It was a dangerous love affair, no doubt about it, but absolutely worth every second.