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Monday, May 01, 2006
Rama: A Worm on my head
By Karlon N. Rama
Stage five
CALL me odd but for one who writes for a newspaper that sometimes devotes an entire page to the NBA, I don’t like basketball.
I never did and, this close to 30, I don’t think I’ll ever develop a taste for it. I blame people’s general fanaticism for basketball for our country’s rather skewed sports program and I’ll even go as far as blame basketball for why we’ve never gotten a gold in the Olympics.
I’d blame basketball for the slump in the GDP, the national cash flow deficit, the economic crisis, measles and chickenpox, if I could.
Consider, for example, how four is the average number of government-built basketball courts per barangay (more if we count half courts and backyard hoops) in a country where 5-foot-4 is the average male person’s height.
In comparison, how much has government spent for the development of sports like eskrima, one that is supposedly endemic to the Philippines, or precision shooting, where height isn’t a factor?
Forget sports. More public funds go to the construction of basketball courts than to development projects like Internet access for barangays. Forget the Internet, even. In some barangays, the allocation for the construction and maintenance of basketball and multi-purpose gyms (which are themselves only covered basketball courts) is larger than appropriations for daycare centers.
But Thursday night found me at the Mandaue City Cultural and Sports Complex, watching the Cebu leg of the Bad Boy Tour – an exhibition match between the NBA Legends and the PBA (Veteran) All-Stars.
It was my first “live” basketball game and my reasons for going were twofold: my ticket was free and I wanted to see Dennis Rodman.
Not that I’m a fan, or anything. I was simply curious.
The game drew basketball fans near and far. And, judging from the near head-splitting roar when player No.91 was called, everybody had one thing in mind: see the guy they call The Worm up close and in-your-face personal.
The Worm, though, wasn’t being cooperative. The 44-year old ex-Bull didn’t shake hands or allowed photo ops during, before and after the game.
Fans had waited for him at the Mandaue City Hall when he and the other Legends gave Mayor Teddy Ouano a courtesy call Wednesday morning but he swooped past them.
He ignored the crowd entirely during the game although the antics that have become associated with him were, to the crowd, inherently entertaining.
After the game, he walked past fans who came to watch and had waited for him until the game ended.
Thus, should I count myself lucky for an encounter with the bad boy of basketball there in seat No.16, just behind the baseline and between ABS-CBN reporter Naomi King and The Freeman photographer Cyril Camporedondo?
It was the first few minutes of the second quarter when Legends guard Kareem Reid drove to the basket after a turnover but missed the shot, causing a loose ball that Rodman dove after.
The ball, as if by some stroke of divine comedy, landed in my hands, and Rodman, in all his lean and mean, 6-foot 7-inch 230-pound, multi-tattooed black splendor, on top of my head, throwing me and Cyril down unto the floor before crashing into Naomi.
Serves me right.
Now I blame basketball for one more thing: a concussion.
(knrama@gmail.com)
For Bisaya stories from Cebu. Click here. (May 1, 2006 issue)
Write letter to the editor.Click here.
Join the Sun.Star message board.Click here.
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