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| photo courtesy of Nuki Sabio |
I HAVE A CONFESSION.
I don't like to sound like a hypocrite and say that I saw this one coming, because on the contrary, I never did.
Don't get me wrong. I have been an avid, die-hard Tigers fan for the longest time. But these past years have been tough, and even the truest of fans can only take so much. It is almost starting to become a routine as seasons and conferences pass; dreadful win-loss records, going home early, never advancing deep into each tournament.
So when I found out that we will be facing the B-Meg Llamados, I found myself shaking my head and dropping my shoulders.
No way.
No way are we beating this juggernaut of a team. It just really seemed to be implausible. B-Meg was on a tear, winning their last 8 games. They destroyed the Tigers during the eliminations. They have "King James," a multi-titled coach, and a trio of All-star big men.
Well, in fairness to me, I never went to the extreme of saying "No way in hell" like a certain mediaman did. I just said no way. Hard to believe.
I was hoping that we would be facing Talk N' Text. After all, the Tigers gave them one heck of a beating just a couple of weeks ago (which coincidentally, happened on my birthday). At least Talk N' Text have guys hurting. We have a chance.
But against the full force of B-Meg? No way.
.......
Damn.
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I LIED.
My family would always go out every Sunday afternoon to have some bonding time together. Last Sunday was no different, only this time I begged off going. I told my mother I really wasn't feeling well and I have to rest to prepare for my GY shift later that night.
But the truth is that I wasn't feeling sick at all. What I was feeling was anxiety. The Tigers have never been this close to entering the semis for years. I had to watch this game. I needed to watch this game.
I lied.
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OLD HABITS DIE HARD.
In the past, watching a Tigers game almost certainly involves me cursing and shouting for the duration of the game. Most times I would swear at the Tigers' coach or certain players of the team who I don't like or just anybody who would make a stupid mistake during the game. Oh, the fun times.
But somehow that practice seem to have died in recent years. I now tend to be more relaxed when watching a game, mostly because, though hard and shameful to admit, I have started to become used to losing.
Last Sunday's game was no different. When we were down by 17 in the second quarter and 10 by the end of the half, I wasn't really stressed. I was satisfied with the Tigers taking a game away from the Llamados. I felt it was enough. If we beat them, I would be elated; if not, no worries, go home, nothing new.
But there was something in that team that night that brought back the passion I lost through all these years. They just kept on fighting back. Kinayod ng kinayod. They just kept on hitting those threes like a bugged NBA video game.
Then slowly and gradually, the fire inside me that have been dormant for a while was starting to ignite once again. I found myself cursing once again! Only this time it wasn't directed to the Tigers coach or any of its players, but against the refs and against the opposing squad.
"F****N REFEREES! THERE'S JUST NO WAY YOU STUPID ***** WILL LET BMEG LOOSE THIS DON'T YOU" - every time the refs called dubious fouls one after another.
"TAKE THAT JAMES YAP!!! WHAT'S YOUR ANSWER NOW HUH?!?!" - every time Gary David hits a three. No cursing in that one, but I was shouting.
"F*** YOU, (insert B-Meg player name here)" every time Simon, JDV, Kerby or any other B-Meg player connected on a shot to keep the Tigers at bay.
I was back to my cursing fixation. Good thing I was alone in the house. For it was brutal. But I am glad.
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YESSSSIIIIRRR!!!!
"Will Antonio for three!! NO!!! Straight but short!!! GARY DAVID FOR THREE!!!....
YessssssiiirrRRR!!!!!"
Game tied.
I have always been a fan of Mico Halili and his groundbreaking outbursts and metaphors. In fact, as a Powerade fan, I have many things to thank Mr. Halili for. As far as I know, he was the one who baptized Gary David with the "El Granada" monicker. He was the one who made this eerie, seemingly prophetic article just a few days ago. He is one of the few guys in the media who seems to genuinely appreciate Gary David.
But this isn't about Mico Halili. This is about how the Tigers were angered, fought back, and clawed their way into a stunning upset over the Llamados.
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THE CALIFORNIA SWAGGER
The thing about Marcio Lassiter that really impressed me is his sense of calmness, and to an extent, stoicity during games.
He had been cut and bloodied once (and needed stitches), he had been hit with a foot to the head, and he had been hacked many times, but we rarely see any emotion from him.
But it all changed last Sunday.
First instance.
During that eventful Josh Urbiztondo - Celino Cruz confrontation, 2 Tigers rushed in to confront Urbiztondo moments later, one was Gary David, and the other was... yes.. Marcio. I do not know if Marcio's intent was to retaliate or to restrain, but it was nice to see him getting involved in the confrontation.
Second instance.
Peter June Simon just converted on 2 baskets to get Powerade's lead down to 2. David was on the bench, and the Tigers having a hard time bringing the ball across the line. Marcio finally has the ball, guarded by Simon. Two feet away from the 3-point line, shot clock winding down, in-between-the-legs dribble, little hesitation move, hoisted up the three, fans in a collective hold of breath... BAM!! Game over. Marcio let out a roar, then an emphatic salute to who-knows-who he directed it to. But it doesn't matter. I saw passion. I saw emotion.
Third instance.
As time finally ran out, making the momentous upset official, Powerade players stormed to the middle of the court as if they just won the title. I saw Marcio hugging David and Casio. Then Marcio stretched his jersey towards the crowd Enrico-Villanueva-style, showing that he is a Powerade Tiger, and he is proud to be one.
But not as proud as we fans are to have you in our team, Marcio.
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LEGENGARY.
In a PBA forum where I have been posting for years, I have come across countless Gary David-haters. And almost everytime I would always defend David. No matter what Gary does, it never really does seem to put him in the same hierarchy as a James Yap or Mark Caguioa.
When people say that David is a ball-hogger, I would always come right back at them with stats showing that David is shooting better than most scorers percentage-wise.
When people say that David had never won anything in his career, I would always come up with the argument that for most of his career, he never had a Kerby Raymundo or a Peter Simon by his side. He never had an Eric Menk or a JayJay Helterbrand to back him up. That brief time he had Arwind Santos and Ranidel De Ocampo, they actually made it to the finals.
I mean, this guy has been the scoring champion for the last 2 seasons. That's no easy feat. This guy was the last local player to score 30+ points in back-to-back games, and he had done that feat twice now after Sunday's game. This guy scored 42 points in a game this season. Somehow these things never seem to be enough for people to show appreciation.
The saddest part? For the last 2 seasons that David had been the scoring champ, he wasn't chosen in the All-star game in both occasions. Guys like Paul Artadi, JC Intal, and Ronald Tubid have been chosen instead. No offense to those guys, but.. Really?
Well, it doesn't matter now. Last Sunday, Gary David had etched his name into the history books and into the minds of everybody, hater or otherwise.
People may never mention his name in the same breath as Caguioa or Yap, or even with Baguio or Simon or Miller, but on that fateful night, David displayed a performance that none of those above-mentioned players may be able to duplicate. Not in their dreams. Not in a million years.
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Nobody gave them a chance. Nobody believed in them, but they believed in themselves, and that was more than enough.
Remember 12/18/2011. For it was the day the Tigers fought back.
Remember 12/18/2011. For it was the day the Tigers fought back.
Roar out.
