There were less tears and anger, more relief and resiliency, as Kenji’s old teammates from Benedictine International School (BIS-QC) explained his value to the newcomers. More than half of last year’s team — Kenji’s batch — has moved on, three of them to University of Santo Tomas, one of them to Lyceum, a couple of others have stopped playing basketball to concentrate on their studies. Yet all speak with fondness for the young Filipino-Japanese, who would have been 17 and a freshman point guard with the De La Salle Green Archers, if he had gotten his wish.
As his head coach, Beaujing Acot recalls, Kanai was such a rare talent that he was already seeing action for the high school team even when he was still in grade 6. After a brief hiatus before his fourth year, he sprouted to 5’11", and was poised to help his team to a few titles in the several high school leagues the Tiger Sharks joined.
Kanai was halfway out of friend’s car when a speeding white Toyota Corolla driven by Timmy Abejuela crashed into him, causing monstrous internal injuries, and pinning him in the wreckage. Despite the presence of an MMDA emergency bay under the Katipunan-Santolan overpass less than two hundred meters away, he bled to death.
What followed was a mess of political maneuvering and protection of the accused, not to mention a maneuver that had the case transferred from one court to another, and much anguish on the part of the Kenji’s parents, Seiji and Susan. As school ended, BIS held a benefit game for Kanai, with film producer and action hero Ronnie Ricketts bringing a platoon of comedians and actors to play an exhibition basketball game against the Tiger Sharks and a handful of UST Growling Tigers and Jose Rizal University Heavy Bombers. The game generated media attention for the case, and helped the Kanai family remember that they were not alone.
Perhaps one lesson from this writer’s reflections on the emotional turmoil this case has wrought to all concerned. It was devastating to my two sons, who were teammates and friends of Kenji. My eldest, Vincent, even brought Kenji to our house the day before the accident. For them to have to face the harsh — and avoidable — reality of a friend’s death at a tender age was scaring for me as a parent, because it was something I couldn’t protect them from.
Parenting is never easy, and it gets harder as children become adolescents, teens and adults, with their ever-expanding understanding of the world (or so they think), and constant questioning of their parents’ techniques. But suffice it to say, any parent would endure that rather than face the loss of a child.
The more I reflect on it, the more I realize how fleeting life can be, and how, no matter how we try, parents cannot shield their children from life. It will always find a way to intrude into your home, and your relationships. The older they get, the bigger their world becomes, and the less perfect their parents seem. And they become more vocal about their doubts and suggestions on how parents can become better. I sometimes have to remind my sons that all the advice they get comes from similarly disgruntled teens, who have similar wisdom. Sometimes, I get away with it.
One of my mentors once said "Life is sometimes harsh, but always fair." One of the greatest paradoxes in life (as in its microcosm of sports) is that is always the bottom line that counts. You can’t say you almost won. The cut-off point is victory. Nobody remembers who came in second place.
As a parent, hard times provide a great opportunity for stress to come in. Every father wants to provide for his son’s dreams. Economics notwithstanding, you can’t tell your child to eat less, want less, dream less. Every father wants to provide for his children, even if it kills him.
As a son, it makes me more understanding of my parents, as well. Looking back, it makes my heart sink when I realize the impact of the times I answered back, acted spoiled, disrespectful and disobedient. It must have broken their hearts, as it does mine when my children do it to me. I do hope that parents and children read this, because it’s not often we get to voice out how we feel about each other. I hope children realize that parents are people, too, not their pack mules or carriage horses. And for parents, maybe they can cut their kids some slack. They aren’t our miniatures, and they may not have learned to temper their frankness. Sometimes, I smile when I realize that I keep telling my boys to be honest, then get taken aback when they give me their unvarnished opinions. If someone wrote a manual on parenting, it would probably be best-selling book in the world, next to the Holy Bible.
And these musings are a parting gift from a young friend who was a great son and aspiring basketball player. May we all learn from his example. I wish I had taken the time to know him better.
Thanks, Kenji.