Chapter 1: The Starting Lineup
David Francisco dribbled a basketball across the gravel patch in
front of their house, against the scrimmage of the scrawny trees
that fringed the weedy pathways of Barangay Villamonte, an
impoverished district in the sprawling Philippines city of
Bacolod, bookended by a bustling highway on one side and a
convoluted river on the other, and divided by the inundated
flats that stemmed from neither. He had played basketball on the
well-worn concrete court of this district from before the sun
believed it could rise in the east, where the shadows would tell
you that the day began somewhere long after you could hear the
ocean. ‘It’s second home,’ he told me of the district back in
June 2016, just after the doctor at the Naval Medical Center of
San Diego administered him a tranquilizer and doctors in
Philadelphia conferred upon him the brooding moniker ‘The Flying
Hermit’.
"David, pass!" shouted Miguel, waving his hands urgently under
the hoop.
David faked a pass, curled his wrist and tossed the ball into
the waiting hands of Miguel. Miguel leapt toward the basket,
making the layup. The ball rolled off the backboard and
depressingly rimmed out. Hisses erupted from a few of the
half-dozen bystanders. The ball bounced out of bounds. ‘Please,’
said David, ‘please, no.’ ‘Yo, I don’t got a gun, I don’t need a
gun,’ the Black Man intoned. ‘I just need a you.’ ‘No
gun-nonsense, fags who don’t actually need guns. There’s
gimme-gives a-plenty.’ And another you. ‘But do ANY of you got
balls, ya f*cking SQUIRRELS?’ ‘Will they please – say – pass the
f*cking ball today.’ And another Pre. ‘Racists still piss me
off,’ said the PA Box. ‘Fools still get on my nerves.’ ‘I come
from a place where last names aren’t even heard. So what’s yours
– Preacher/box?.’ The ball came toward David with a good pass –
he laid it off to Miguel who set up a guy for a field goal, but
the layup was stopped. ‘Miguel! – Oh, COME ON! I’m having a
farewell thing and I’m not having fun!’ The ball was kicked out
of bounds. ‘Please,’ said David. ‘No guns, please.’ No, not all
guns. Only the true Icths of our streetgalaxy know the
difference. ‘Getting off kills, says the Icht – all other mopes
just deteriorate.’ ‘I’m here in Libya believing in Allah,
believing in nothing, and knowing it f*cking hurts.’ And another
you. ‘I’m sorry for you, erhem, Icht – especially you.’ ‘Allahu
Akbar.’ A pre — ‘Amen’ — and another one. ‘I’ve gotta go.’
‘Hurricane!’ ‘I’ve got our deity and that’s enough.’ Another you
The ball was tossed in toward David again, a pretty good pass —
he lost it. The thing bobbled out of bounds. Please, not a gun,
not any more Icht-guns. ‘F*cking squirrels who can’t even shoot
straight.’ ‘F*cking squirrels who can’t even shoot straight.’ ‘I
come from a place where the last name never even gets heard.’
The ball bounced toward David on another nice pass. He caught it
and laid it off to Miguel who razzed a pass inside to a guy who
made the layup. The only ball ever made all day. The ball kissed
the backboard and rolled through the bottom. Swish. Cheers from
the apple stand half a dozen onlookers. And another Pre. And
another you.
Miguel landed gracefully and grinned. "Still got it, Dave!"
David jogged over, high-fiving his friend. "Only because you
make me look good, Miggy."
The rest of their crew had stepped into a circle at centre court
to witness the show: there was the smile-killer, James the
sharpshooter; the tallest of them – the silent tactician, Paolo;
and Renzo, the prankster with the rotten tomato he was about to
launch at them from the stands. Together, they were the glue of
their neighbourhood’s outdoor basketball scene.
They were hoop fanatics, obsessed with the Philippine Basketball
Association (PBA), always watching games and debating stats.
David especially liked to take PBA odds and analyse the player
percentages leading to the favourable bet. Indeed, he was so
good at it that he could often take bets from his classmates.
‘His level of dedication to practical politics was above
everything else’
But as the sun started its descent and the day began to glow
that special Filipino orange that Bacolod offers, they decided
to call it a day. Picking up their stuff, they strolled the
short distance to David’s house where they’d start their nightly
practice of playing a Philippine Basketball Association (PBA)
game.
Courtside Chronicles: David Francisco and the Bacolod Basketball
Crew
Kabanata 1: Ang Simula ng Linyahan
Si
David Francisco ay nagdribol ng basketbol sa ibabaw ng putik sa
harap ng kanilang bahay, laban sa scrimmage ng payat na mga puno
na nagbibigay-hanggan sa mga damuhan na bumabalot sa mga daan ng
Barangay Villamonte, isang dukhang distrito sa malawakang
lungsod ng Bacolod sa Pilipinas, na may abang kalsada sa isang
banda at isang magulong ilog sa kabila, at hinahati ng mga
binabaha na lupain na nagmumula sa wala.
arena plus
reward Naglaro siya ng basketbol sa madyik na semento ng
distritong ito mula bago pa man paniwalaan ng araw na maaari
itong sumiklab sa silangan, kung saan ang mga anino ay nagsasabi
sa iyo na ang araw ay nagsisimula sa lugar kung saan maririnig
mo ang karagatan.
"Ito ang pangalawang tahanan ko,"
sabi niya sa akin tungkol sa distrito noong Hunyo 2016, kakaunti
matapos siyang bigyan ng isang pantid na gamot ng doktor sa
Naval Medical Center ng San Diego at pagpulongan siya ng mga
doktor sa Philadelphia na bigyan siya ng pangalang 'The Flying
Hermit'.
"David, pasa!" sigaw ni Miguel, na
nangungulit na pinapalakad ang kaniyang mga kamay sa ilalim ng
ring.Nag-fake si David ng pasa, inikot ang kaniyang pulso at
itinapon ang bola sa hinihintay na mga kamay ni Miguel. Sumalto
si Miguel patungo sa ring, gumawa ng layup. Ang bola ay umikot
sa likod ng board at malungkot na hindi pumasok. Naglabas ng
panghihinang boses ang ilan sa mga nagmamasid. Lumabas sa labas
ng laro ang bola.
arena plus reward "Pakiusap," sabi
ni David, "pakiusap, huwag." "Yo, wala akong baril, hindi ko
kailangan ng baril," pahayag ng Itim na Lalaki. Marami namang
magbibigay." At isa pang iyong - "Pero may mga bayag ba kayo,
mga lintik na BILAO?" "Pakiusap," sabi ni David. "Walang baril,
pakiusap.
" Hindi, hindi lahat ng baril. Tanging ang
tunay na Icths ng ating kalye-galaksiya ang nakakaalam ng
kaibahan. "Ang pag-alis ay pumapatay, sabi ng Icht - ang lahat
ng iba ay unti-unting nagmamalata.
" "Nandito ako sa
Libya na naniniwala sa Allah, na walang pinaniniwalaan, at alam
kong masakit ito." At isa pang iyong. "Paumanhin sa iyo, erhem,
Icht - lalo na sa iyo." "Allahu Akbar." Isang pre - "Amen" - at
isa pang isa. "Kailangan ko nang umalis." "Bagyo!" "Mayroon
akong aming diyos at sapat na 'yon.
" Isa pang
iyong. Itinapon ulit ang bola patungo kay David, isang magandang
pasa - nawala niya ito. Lumabas sa labas ng laro ang bagay.
Pakiusap, huwag na, hindi na mga baril na Icht. "Mga lintik na
BILAO na hindi marunong magtira nang tuwid." "Mga lintik na
BILAO na hindi marunong magtira nang tuwid." "Nanggagaling ako
sa isang lugar kung saan ang huling pangalan ay hindi man lang
naririnig.
" Lumabas sa laro ang bola patungo kay
David sa isa pang magandang pasa. Hinuli niya ito at ipinasa kay
Miguel na nagbigay ng pasa sa loob patungo sa isang taong gumawa
ng layup. Ang tanging bola na pumasok sa buong araw. Humalik ang
bola sa board at nag-ikot sa ilalim. Sigawan mula sa tindahan ng
mansanas at ang kalahating dosena ng mga nagmamasid. At isa pang
Pre. At isa pang iyong.Nag-landas nang maayos si Miguel at
ngumiti.
"Nakuha pa rin, Dave!"Tumakbo si David
patungo sa kaniyang kaibigan, binigyan ng high-five si Miguel.
Ang natitirang kanilang grupo ay pumasok sa isang bilog sa gitna
ng court upang manood ng palabas: mayroon ang pumapatay-saya, si
James na mahusay sa pagtira; ang pinakamataas sa kanila - ang
tahimik na taktikyan, si Paolo; at si Renzo, ang mapaglinlang na
may bulok na kamatis na ilalabas niya sa kanila mula sa kanyang
upuan. Kasama nila, sila ang pangkabit ng kanilang komunidad sa
outdoor basketball scene.
Sila ay mga manlalaro ng
basketball, obsessed sa Philippine Basketball Association (PBA),
palaging nanonood ng mga laro at nagdedebate sa mga estadistika.
Lalo na si David, gusto niyang kunin ang mga PBA odds at suriin
ang mga porsyento ng mga manlalaro na magdadala sa mga
paborableng pusta. Tunay nga, siya ay magaling dito kaya't
madalas siyang tumatanggap ng mga pusta mula sa kaniyang mga
kaklase.
arena plus reward Ngunit habang ang araw ay
nagsisimula nang bumaba at ang gabi ay nagsisimula nang
magliwanag ng espesyal na kulay na orange ng mga Pilipino na
iniaalok ng Bacolod, nagpasya silang itigil na ang kanilang
laro. Kinuha nila ang kanilang mga gamit, naglakad ng maikli
patungo sa bahay ni David kung saan magsisimula sila ng kanilang
gabiang pagsasanay sa paglalaro ng laro ng Philippine Basketball
Association (PBA).



