Notes from the dugout:Boys on the side
MANILA, Philippines - September 30, 2010. It’s Game Two of the finals between Ateneo de Manila University and Far Eastern University. With 21 seconds left in the fourth, the ball makes its way to Blue Eagle Ryan Buenafe, who, instead of driving into the paint as expected, steps back and puts in a triple — a shot he almost never made throughout the season.
The Ateneo crowd goes insane. Buenafe pulls up his jersey, displaying the number 13 for all to see. The Blue Eagles go on to win the game, 65-62, and the UAAP championship for the third straight year.
This is college basketball the way the fans see it. They feel the excitement of a game and scream their support to the boys in the blue jerseys. But in my two years as courtside reporter, I have had what a true Ateneo fan would consider the chance of a lifetime: that of getting to know the team outside of games. The immediate effect of this is that I’ve found reasons to love them beyond their skills with a basketball.
The Ateneo Blue Eagles are more than just a bunch of guys set to gain glory for the blue and white. Sure, they’re athletes who spend hours every day working out, playing ball, and living through the pressure of defending a championship. But I’ve seen them at practice and at school, and at heart, they’re boys, they’re students, and above all, they’re friends. They are a team who love one another, and when I say “team,” I also mean the whole coaching staff, the physiotherapists, the “team moms,” and the student managers.
They play video games together. Call of Duty is a favorite, and many of them anticipate each year’s NBA 2k release. They drink (between seasons, of course) and hang out at each other’s houses. At school, they spend their breaks cooling off in the Office of Admission and Aid with Fr. Nemi Que and his staff. They study, and some of them get really good grades: Nico Salva was a dean’s lister, and Tonino “Zags” Gonzaga and Emman Monfort take their studies seriously, too.
They have love lives: they crush on girls, they court, they go on dates and celebrate anniversaries. They get their hearts broken. Some of them write poetry and sappy status messages on Facebook. Others listen to “senti” music and watch chick flicks. Kirk Long’s family runs an orphanage in Antipolo that houses the sweetest kids; Eric Salamat’s favorite food is soup. Coach Norman Black smiles a lot, Coach Sandy Arespacochaga is incredibly nice, Coach Gab Severino’s son is so cute I’ve already proposed marriage to him (he’s seven), Coach Jamike Jarin is every bit as witty as he is intense, and Dr. George Canlas could probably get St. Ignatius to take a shot of tequila “for the team.” There are stories, too, like the time that Chris de Chavez let slip to a teammate’s girlfriend that they were shooting a surprise video for her, and the time that Jai Reyes convinced two of the student managers to play one-on-one basketball against each other—a total fail that ended (accidentally) in a bloody nose.
My point is, these boys are so much more than game-winning shots and player statistics. Kirk is more than a defensive specialist, and Emman more than a clutch player. Eric is more than a great gambler, Justin Chua more than the next Rabeh Al-Hussaini. Coach Norman Black is more than an amazing coach. College basketball is a huge part of their lives, but it isn’t everything that matters to them or about them. I’ve found that at the end of the day, they are a lot like you and me: just out there to do their best.
So, you see, while I admire the Blue Eagles for their prowess, I respect them for their heart. While I look up to them for their talent, I love them for the boys that I’ve seen them to be. And next year, when I cheer for Ateneo from the stands, I will scream not just for the uniform—but also for the brave young men who dare to don it.
