Y. Not. Yang (And why not a Filipino?)

Before the recent PGA tournament, Y. E. Yang may not have been the most recognizable of names on the professional golf tour. In fact, even if you gave most local golf aficionados the more than glaring hint of his being Korean, most would have mumbled something about K. J. Choi being the Korean golfer they were familiar with, and trying to compensate with names like Se Ri Pak and the other Koreans who play on the Women’s Tour, and have made a sizable impact over the years. And excuse me for noticing, but at least four out of every five golfers I spoke to that Monday morning in Manila when the tournament ended could only regret Tiger having choked on the last day, and ending his streak of winning every tournament when he’s led on the final day of play (Tiger was ahead by two strokes when play began Sunday at Hazeltine, Minnesota, and with Yang and Woods paired on the last flight, Yang won by three strokes!). So much for our Asian Pride — while I do admire Tiger and have followed his career, I seemed to be in the minority regaling in the fact that if Tiger was not to win any major for the first time in oh-so-many years, it would be an Asian playing head-to-head who would cause Tiger to lose those records.

Thirty-seven-year-old Yang picked up his first golf club at the ripe age of 19, watched Jack Nicklaus videos, worked on a driving range on Jeju-Do island off South Korea and even tore his ACL when he fell down a flight of stairs while working for a construction company at 21. By most accounts, that provenance would not augur well for a future PGA champion, but dedication, perseverance and drive are obviously bywords for this Asian golfer, and it’s something our own local golfers (and athletes) could learn from. In 2006, he won the HSBC Champions in Shanghai, beating Tiger by two strokes but not playing head-to-head with Tiger, and earlier this year, he won the Honda Classic.

Here again, it seems, it’s the oft-repeated tale of woe; how us Filipinos are oozing with natural skill and talent, and yet, other than boxing and Pacquiao, we seem to fall by the wayside when it comes to achieving anything on the global sports stage (and I do acknowledge Bata Reyes’ and Paeng Nepomuceno’s glory days). We love basketball, but it’s the Chinese who have invaded the NBA, Japanese, Taiwanese and Korean players dot the lineups of American Major League Baseball teams, Thai players have made incursions into the world tennis rankings and badminton is dominated by the Chinese, Indonesians and individual players from Malaysia, Singapore and Hong Kong. World Cup-mania and South Africa 2010 seems to grip the entire world, but with us as one of the few exceptions. The excuse of us being Asian, smaller in stature, just won’t cut it anymore. Annually, sizable budgets for sports development are approved, and still, “If not now, then when?” seems to be the big question hanging over the heads of our sports federations and associations, for which they can’t seem to give us any answer. I, for one, would love to stay up one morning, watching the live feed of a Filipino athlete “finesse-ing” Tiger, whizzing by Jensen or Lewis, or taking Roger and Rafa to that 5th deciding set. And please, in my lifetime, ok?

Evil has a face

Thankfully, novelists can play with their imagination when depicting the Devil and Evil incarnate. In Jonathan Howard’s hands, the Faustian premise is riddled with laughter, and we can practically feel Howard’s knowing grin and lopsided smile. For Jake Arnott, Evil, or what is mistaken for it, comes straight out of early 20th century history. And in the case of Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan’s collaboration, a cinematic, modern retelling of vampire lore awaits us.

Johannes Cabal the Necromancer by Jonathan Howard (available on Amazon.com): Jonathan Howard’s novel is a smart, played for humor, rehash of the Faustian legend — where we make a deal with the Devil and sell our soul for eternal Life. The twist here is that Johannes Cabal has already sold his soul, and so this is about getting his soul back and wagering with Satan that he can deliver 100 souls in a year, in exchange for his. This is one hell of a ride (and yes, the pun is intended), as Satan throws in a Carnival of Discord, Johannes recruits his brother Horst, a vampire; and we’re reduced to tears of laughter as Johannes and Satan try to outwit each other. There’s even a Shane-like character who becomes Johannes’ nemesis. One enjoyable, weird read!

The Devil’s Paintbrush by Jake Arnott (available at National Bookstore): It’s been 10 years since Jake Arnott’s The Long Firm, and while he has followed up that novel with other crime-related tales, The Devil’s Paintbrush is something of a departure. This is historical fiction of a different hue, the fact being that in 1903, there is a recorded meeting in Paris between Major General Hector MacDonald and Aleister Crowley. MacDonald, a war hero of the Sudan campaign, was then under the shadow of being charged with immorality stemming from homosexuality; while Crowley was already the shadowy figure he is known for, a highly publicized bisexual who dabbled in the mystical arts and witchcraft. A tale about repression, and the waning British Empire.

The Strain by Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan (available at National Bookstore): Del Toro is the director of Pan’s Labyrinth, while Hogan was given the Hammett Award for Prince of Thieves — and that should give us some inkling of the kind of entertainment this collaboration will provide. The premise is a vampiric virus, our heroes being one Dr. Goodweather of the Rapid Response Team for Biological Threats, and Holocaust survivor Abraham Setrakian. They’re up against Jusef Sardu, vampire legend, now visitor to Manhattan, and ready to make the city his own. With zombies, rats, and really creepy stuff happening, the novel reads like a Dracula meets Blade meets CSI, and written as the first part of a trilogy, I can’t wait for Part 2 and the film adaptation.