“Sweet is the memory of distant friends! Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart.” – Washington Irving
I first met Oscar “Dodong” Bascon in 1996. As a new event organizer then, our group had won the bid for the country’s first nationwide 3-on-3 basketball tournament, the maiden edition of the adidas Streetball Challenge. The winner would go on to the world championship in Budapest, Hungary. One leg of the tournament would be in Bacolod, a basketball hotbed place I had not visited in almost 20 years. We needed a coordinator in Negros, and Dodong Bascon was the logical – and only – choice.
I was surprised and refreshed with the ease with which Dodong worked. Mind you, at 62 then, he was no spring chicken. But there was a bounce in his step that put many younger people to shame. Never had I met anyone who loved the game more than I did. And he was just as passionate about food and people. It was as if you were assigned a father when you went to Bacolod, a father who took his duties very seriously. He knew everyone, and anyone he didn’t know, he put at ease immediately. I once joked that Dodong was so disarming, he probably caused the Venus de Milo’s appendages to fall off.
Bascon was a founder of the NBA, the Negros Basketball Association, and was important in the migration of much of the province’s basketball talent to Metro Manila. Everyone from Rudy Distrito to Yves Dignadice to Noli Locsin and succeeding generations all owe a debt of gratitude to him. He always thought of what was best for the player and the game, and was a strong advocate against schools in Metro Manila poaching Bacolod athletes to boost their UAAP and NCAA campaigns. It was a decades-old pattern that stymied the growth of sports in the provinces. Bascon strove to prevent the migration of skilled varsity players too early after events like the Palarong Pambansa.
But what this writer remembers most is the downtime, the meals and conversations. A hotelier and restaurateur by profession, Dodong opened his Bascon Hotel to his numberless friends. For decades, the old building was an oasis, a sure place to hole up in even in peak tourist season. One time, we were discussing what to call his buffet restaurant in the lobby. In our conversation, “Dodong’s Fastbreak” came out, signifying both his basketball involvement and the quickness of service. Dodong’s Fastbreak quickly became a landmark for travelers, students and the working class. He printed photos with all his basketball guests and celebrities and wallpapered the restaurant with them. Long before the word “selfie” was coined by Australians, Dodong had them by the truckload. In 2006, this inspired the backdrop photo wall of The Basketball Show.
Dodong was always cheerful no matter the situation. He had a laugh akin to a dormant car that finally decided to rev to life. He valued relationships more than anything. Nothing was worth fighting over. Nothing was more valuable than friendship. He was the quintessential bridge-builder. As team manager of the Negros Slashers in the Metropolitan Basketball Association, everyone went to him with their problems. The team became one of the most popular in the league, making household names of John Ferriols, Johnedel Cardel, Reynel Hugnatan and the late Maui Huelar. Players who left the franchise uniformly expressed longing to go back.
Inevitably, the NBA backed football, as any true blue Negrense had to. After all, in the southern Philippines, soccer is a way of life, and Bascon lived through the era of the two-sport athlete, a tradition that, sadly, no longer exists. Soon, swimming and running came under the NBA’s umbrella. Helping people in need was always in Bascon’s nature.
Dodong Bascon was an ambassador for everything worth loving: sport, food, relationships. His children took on this legacy of service, multiplying his restaurants and entering public service. I once wrote that I prayed he live forever, not just to 86. For generations of us weary travelers, he made Bacolod a haven. Dodong Bascon was Bacolod.