Siftings
Thoughts of Gray Novembers In My Soul (Part I)
Back in my student days in UP Diliman in the late 50s and early 60s, I heard of a very trendy (for that time, of course) cafe cum arty hangout of very artistic and intellectually-inclined denizens of the university circuit (meaning UP, Ateneo, De La Salle, UST, FEU and UE) who would go there to discuss ART, LITERATURE,PHILOSOPHY and LIFE – in capital letters because most of what they discussed were what they read in books and were, for the most part, abstractions. The name of that fashionable watering place was “It’s a Gray November In My Soul Coffeeshop” and it was very artsy-fartsy; but this is not to say that it was corny or beside the point or pointless. It might have been kind of snobbish, intellectually snobbish, because one didn’t count or belong if s/he had not gone there to drink the very black coffee or imbibe a few beers, let alone read one’s poem/s or generally absorb the artistic and intellectual atmosphere. At most, one was considered a shmoo if s/he had not read her/his poem or gawk at the works of David Cortez Medalla, or get into a passionate argument about the merits of Jean-Paul Sartre’s existentialist play No Exit, the toast of theatrical circles then.
But here we are in the middle of November and I haven’t gathered enough wits or energy or inspiration to fill up my column space and fulfill my quota for the month. This is terrible. Not that there is a lack of topics for me to write about. There was the Pacquiao-Cotto fight which ended so gloriously for the “ pambansang kamao” and the nation, the media projecting a thousand and one predictions which all came true: Si Manny pa rin! Now he has seven titles to his name, making boxing history while indulging, in his less serious moments, in his favorite pastime of–singing, no less! Perhaps the wine and the women will come later? Sana, hindi na. The reason the Pacman has won his titles at such alarming rate is because he is such a good Mama’s boy. He is probably obedient to a fault, obeying his nanay’s orders about no smoking, no drinking, no womanizing (This one is now in serious doubt, from certain indications.). Now we hear that Manny is going to run for congressman of Sarangani, shying away from his hometown of Gen San to avoid being trounced again by his old opponent. Will Manny succeed as congressman, given the ferocity and tenacity he has proven so magnificently in the ring? For the Pacman is a magnificent fighter, no doubt about that. When you see him going at his opponent with the very first bell of Round One, he looks like little David facing Goliath in battle, his face in grim determination, his eyes concentrated on his opponent’s vulnerable spots, never letting up on his punches nor letting his guard down,and never letting you forget that he means to win: for God, country and loved ones!
But there is something to be said for Manny’s defeated rivals: they underestimated his power and speed and hoped to be the one to bring him down! They forgot that, in agreeing to fight at levels of weight lower than their customary levels, they are lowering their own firepower, so to speak. Whereas Manny is increasing his poundage and thus, his muscle power, at the same time working on his speed, he also increases the weight behind his punches which, with the speed he has developed, makes him one formidable raging bull! Media clips of the Pacman in training showed him in remarkable focus and form, so that even US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton replied, in answer to a query about whom she thought would win: “Manny Pacquiao, of course. Is there any doubt?”
So now, Pinas is once more the belle of the boxing ball, despite the sad case of young boxer Z Gorres. We can only hope Gorres recovers his physical and mental faculties, even if he can never box again. This case should be constant reminders to boxers – and other athletes as well – that the physical dangers of some sports are real, too real for comfort. That is why boxers earn a lot. The risk to life and limb must never be discounted. Look at Muhammad Ali. He is alive. But what a way to age, caught in the debilitating grip of Parkinson’s disease, his magnificent physique reduced to a quivering mass, the once- beautiful manhood gone forever.
But there are other topics, other fights to mull over this November. I refer to the political arena. Now the political tandems are almost complete for the much-awaited match in May 2010: Noynoy-Mar; Erap-Binay; Gibo-Edu; and the latest, Villar-Loren. Only Chiz has remained in limbo, stirring skeptics’ doubts about whether he means to run as president, vice president, or senator! Poor Chiz! He sounded so impressive when he first started out, until he thought up this quixotic plan of running for president with his youth, inexperience and mainly his idealism, under the Nationalist People’s Coalition, and then resigning from that party! Oh well, he is very young, he can still recoup in time the damage to his image that his moves have wrought. And with his eloquence in speaking Filipino and critiquing the present Administration, Chiz will no doubt come into his own, despite the internet’s contention that it bodes no good for the Philippines to have a once problematic special child become her president. (To be continued)
