UAAP Update?

Some Atenean I am. First, I had no idea that we had such a sterling record. Second, and to the minds of most of my friends, I had no idea that we had just been dealt our first loss. For the record, no one else, with the possible exception of Manny Pangilinan, felt more ecstatically blessed when the Eagles won the UAAP in 2002-2003. That season had special significance for me. Not only didn't I witness a single Ateneo victory that fateful season, my roommates (after discovering that I had the uncanny ability to will Ateneo into a loss simply by watching a game) refused to allow me to watch any games at all. It was with bittersweet pride that I accepted my roommate Kim Chong's offer to view his Ateneo championship season DVD first; never had a man's inaction meant so much to so many.

I confess that, for me, this UAAP season slipped under the radar. With all the things that have been happening to me lately (my son Manuel's impending birth, the opening of our preschool, and other matters), I didn't particularly care about this season. For one, the Ateneo's storied rival, the De la Salle Green Archers, were not participating in this season's UAAP, due to allegations of improper conduct on the part of some De la Salle sports officials. While I would be the last person to advocate undying enmity against an equally passionate nemesis, I must confess that the lack of any such undercurrent of "hatred", took some of the excitement out of the season for me. More importantly, I realized only recently that the only reason why I continue to cheer for my alma mater in the UAAP is because their success means so much to my friends. As an academic institution, the Ateneo means the world to me; I cannot imagine what I could be without the intellectual and spiritual formation I received from the Jesuits. I just can't summon the same fervor I have for the profound spirituality that can be found in the drive for Christ-centered excellence, a lesson drilled into me by years of Jesuit instruction, for the Ateneo's sporting events. But since the UAAP games mean so much to my friends, some of whose productive working week depends almost entirely on the Eagles' success on the court, I continue to hope, and pray, that the Ateneo wins.

I just hope that we remember that ad majorem dei gloria: all these we do "for the greater glory of God". Last I checked, we can do so regardless of victory or defeat.

Sanctified Through Sports

It's not often that I find myself moved to comment on more or less parochial matters, but the University of Asia and the Pacific (UA&P) varsity teams have inspired me to ruminate on the transcendent quality that is grace in sports. First, the UA&P Women's Basketball team posted back to back wins in the WNCAA, a development that was, quite frankly, considered unlikely by most objective observers due to the UA&P Women's team's first couple of games. Second, the UA&P Women's Futsal team posted yet another win, this time over Miriam College, to lead their division, also in the WNCAA. Lastly, the UA&P Men's Futsal team won the 2nd division championship in the recently concluded Adidas Cup.

For better or for worse, UA&P has never been consumed by an undying passion for competitive sports, at least not in the way that other schools have. Rather, UA&P has chosen to participate in sports, not particularly to win, but to excel. In my many years as both a casual observer, and a impassioned participant in UA&P sports, I have come to the conclusion that I would rather have a UA&P team in the finals of any athletic competition rather than anyone else.

Some teams are poor losers---when subjected to the ignominy of defeat, they insist on courting the scandal of truly losing. They rant and rave against the fickle finger of fate. They blame the miserable playing conditions, and cast aspersions on either the visual acuity or the mental clarity of the referees. They blame everyone but themselves, and in doing so merely bring spectators and atheists alike to the brink of a religious conversion: if this team did not win, then there truly is a God.

Some teams are poor winners---when blessed with the eminence of victory, they insist on hewing to the ballyhoo or barbarity. They preen and jest. They mock the downtrodden. They congratulate none but themselves for their sweet satisfaction, and in doing so, bring spectators and believers alike to the brink of a crisis of faith: if there truly were a God, these buffoons shouldn't have won.

The reason why I would rather have a UA&P team in the finals of any sport, (yes, even a marathon, double round elimination tournament for Magic: the Gathering) is simple. No other team loses, or wins, with as much grace and dignity as a UA&P team. When you watch our brave young athletes give their very best, either in victory or in defeat, you couldn't help but think that excellence in sports really is ennobling, that by watching them give their all, we are somehow blessed, even a little bit, by witnessing their passion, sacrifice, and joy in competing.

To that end, allow me to make a final, embarrassingly shallow observation: the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree. Thank you to Coach Manrique Reyes, Coach Chris Dominguez, and Coach Franklin Cacacho (with the special participation of Coach Toto Torbela) for making us proud to be associated with, or working in, UA&P.

Terribly Quiet

I apologize for the lack of activity in my blog. In a way, this hiatus of sorts reminds me of the incident between Adam Wayne and the shop owner in Chesterton's The Napoleon of Notting Hill. In that novel, Wayne visits the owner of a curiosity shop in order to drum up support for the defense of Notting Hill. Since I cannot do justice to the exchange between the two, let me allow Chesterton to do the narration:

"And how does your commerce go, you strange guardian of the past?" said Wayne, affably.

"Well, sir, not very well," replied the man, with that patient voice of his class which is one of the most heart-breaking things in the world. "Things are terribly quiet."

Wayne's eyes shone suddenly.

"A great saying," he said, "worthy of a man whose merchandise is human history. Terribly quiet; that is in two words the spirit of this age, as I have felt it from my cradle. I sometimes wondered how many other people felt the oppression of this union between quietude and terror. I see blank, well-ordered streets and men in black moving about inoffensively, sullenly. It goes on day after day, day after day, and nothing happens; but to me it is like a dream from which I might wake screaming. To me the straightness of our life is the straightness of a thin cord stretched tight. Its stillness is terrible. It might snap with a noise like thunder. And you who sit, amid the debris of the great wars, you who sit, as it were, upon a battle-field, you know that war was less terrible than this evil peace; you know that the idle lads who carried those swords under Francis or Elizabeth, the rude Squire or Baron who swung that mace about in Picardy or Northumberland battles, may have been terribly noisy, but were not like us, terribly quiet."

Of course, the delicious humor of the occasion is based on the premise that whereas Wayne possesses an innocent, childlike sense of wonder precisely because he is a fanatic, "like most children, he may have a sense of fun, but lacks that very adult quality of a sense of humor" (Conlon, 31). Ironically, the very young and idealistic Wayne is too serious to be an adult, in the Chestertonian sense.

Ah, but I digress. It has been terribly quiet in this blog, and I apologize for that. However, much like Adam Wayne, I too am some sort of fanatic, if blessed with the more adult faculty of humor. I'm just finishing some things, and then...well, let's just say that things won't be too terribly quiet around here.

Acquired Tastes: Charley Rosen

That basketball curmudgeon, Charley Rosen, is at it again. For those who haven't been monitoring the progress of Team USA (a designation which feels sort of odd, as this collection of superstars is only a team in the most literal sense of the word) at the world championships in Japan, good old Charley, perhaps the most virulently intelligent basketball critic on the Web, has been covering Team USA's games. Now, as I've mentioned in this blog before (just scroll down to "A Man for all Preseasons"), I have no quarrel with Rosen's normally insightful basketball analysis. He is knowledgeable and articulate the way few basketball writers are nowadays. He has a profound respect for the virtues of hard work, and the unsung hardcourt heroes who helped shaped basketball history. The problem with Rosen is that he conducts his analysis with an infuriating mix of intelligence, condescension and what I suspect to be an almost deliberate desire to be unfunny. People normally don't take kindly to "know-it-alls", no matter how many times he or she is right on the money. But it's even harder to swallow smug (and, annoyingly) accurate prognoses when it's delivered with such willful disregard for a cherished childhood admonition, by way of Mary Poppins: a spoonful of sugar should be reserved for more than just medicine, regardless of the direction the medicine chooses to travel. Still, he makes a lot of good points, so you might want to check him out.

Surprised by Joy

On August 15, 2006, the University of Asia and the Pacific, after close to ten years of patient waiting until their plan could finally mature into diabolical fruition, managed to render yours truly, for one of the few times in his life, speechless...for all of five seconds, but speechless for four seconds longer than usual nonetheless. I was surprised to receive the Most Outstanding Teacher Award for the College of Arts and Sciences of the University of Asia and the Pacific, and I think I almost broke the record for "most capitalized words used in a sentence for this blog", which, in my humble opinion, reminds me that the award was for teaching, and not writing.

I was entirely serious when I mentioned, in my rambling, incoherent, "Al Pacino giving his acceptance speech for the Lifetime Achievement Award at the 2003 Golden Globes mode" that I would like to thank all the students who suffered through my first four years of teaching, because I think I set new standards for brilliantly inconsistent teaching (for NBA fans, imagine Tim Thomas-like consistency, which is basically a long legacy of underachieving frustration occasionally punctuated by "Tim Thomas in the 2006 playoffs, wait, is it a contract year?" type performances) during those dark years. So, if any of my students from those wildly embarrassing times is reading this, please accept my heartfelt apologies, and the consuelo that at least your labors were not entirely in vain.

Please enjoy the pictures of the celebration dinner, which I wish I could have invited more people to, but considering that we held it in Le Souffle, I'm glad that not too many people were able to attend. Still, a great number of you, friends and loved ones, were sorely missed. I'll be posting more of them at my Multiply site.


Joy, joy, joy!

Juan's Birthday Pics are Online!

The pictures of my son Juan's 2nd birthday are now online. Just head on over to my Multiply account, right here . Again, I'd like to thank all the people who either tried to go, or actually went, to my son's wet and wild birthday party. We had a blast. Thanks for sending all that love our way!

Acquired Tastes: Bill Simmons and Entertainment

Now that I have successfully discharged my filial duties by making sure that my son Juan's 2nd birthday was not the unmitigated disaster that his mother and I feared it would be, I can once again give unsolicited advice about what to read over the World Wide Web.

First, let's go back to an old standby, ESPN2's Bill Simmons, who posted a fairly provocative (albeit clique-ish) article on two Boston sports legends, Larry Bird and Big Papi. If you don't follow either NBA Basketball or the Boston Red Sox, I wouldn't recommend clicking on this link.

However, Simmons' Boston legends article does reference an older article that he did comparing these two Hollywood legends, Robert de Niro and Al Pacino.
To offer you a small taste of what the two aforementioned links have in store for even the casual Hollywood fan, allow me to quote from the wonderfully inventive pop culture wit of the people at Fametracker:


"It's some kind of testament to De Niro's -- what? Longevity? Reputation? Savvy? Greed? -- that he's managed to make more bad movies in the last decade than most actors have made movies, period. And we know what you're thinking: Those movies weren't terrible, with the exception of Showtime, 15 Minutes, and a few others. Meet the Parents? Funny. Heat? Thrilling-ish. Ronin? Downright serviceable.
Yes, sure, fine. We concede that. We like to see an urn full of someone's mom's ashes smashed in the fireplace and then sniffed at by a fuzzy cat as much as anyone.
But don't you remember when Robert De Niro showing up in a movie was an event? When it meant something? We're not even talking about his heyday as a live wire in the '70s, when he crackled with such committed intensity that he fried every other actor on the set. (Joe Pesci has a made a whole career out of the simple ability to appear onscreen with De Niro and not get sizzled to charcoal.)
We're talking about the 1980s. Hell, even the early '90s. We're talking about a time not that long ago. Back when you'd hear about a film like, say, The Untouchables, and think, "Hmmm." Then you'd hear De Niro was playing Capone -- and packing on the pounds and shaving back his hairline to do it -- and you'd think, "Hey! De Niro! Now that's the stamp of quality!"
Robert De Niro is no longer the stamp of quality."

"One of the more curious footnotes to the career of Al Pacino is that he was offered, and turned down, the part of Han Solo in 1977's Star Wars.
Now take a moment to imagine this: the young, pouchy-eyed Pacino reclining in the captain's seat of the Millennium Falcon, enjoying a moment with Chewie. Or the young, pouchy-eyed Pacino shouting "Hoo-wah!" as he zips like a frenetic elf up the ramp of the Falcon, trading blaster shots with attacking stormtroopers. Or the young, pouchy-eyed Pacino flying in like the cavalry in the film's climactic battle and, just before sending Vader's TIE fighter spinning madly into space, screaming, "Shay jello to my wittle vrend!"
Now, we're not saying that this would have been a better movie. But it sure would have been a more interesting one."


Second, also by way of Simmons, let me crib from his more accessible mailbox article where he presents, in his estimation, the six best renditions of the national anthem in sports. Incidentally, Simmons just might have one of the best jobs on the planet. Who else gets paid to sift through YouTube looking for this sort of stuff? This is not a rhetorical question. I'd really like to know, just in case things don't pan out in the academe, he he.

Acquired Tastes: Entertainment

I suddenly realized that my past couple of posts came just this close to pontificating, so I've decided that since I have no papal ambitions whatsoever, I'm going to post something on the order of good natured fun.

Still reeling from the successive, (and to some, rather anti-climactic) revelations that different boy band members are currently in homosexual relationships, here's one that you wouldn't expect, And shouldn't jump to conclusions over from Justin Timberlake.

In honor of my new, favorite, reality tv guilty pleasure, Beauty and the Geek, here's a clip featuring geeks who stand a chance of actually getting some...loving.


Enjoy!

Mel's Apology, a Woman of Substance, and Tom Hanks

I must confess that I was so distraught at what happened to Mel Gibson, a Hollywood actor who enlivened so many of the late-night soirées (in the European sense, save that our musical tastes ran to alternative music and our conversation was not exactly the stuff of which Austen novels are made of) that my buddies and I held at the moderately filthy, yet generously warm-hearted little commune that our neighbors derisively called (after reality-tv pioneer Mark Burnett's Survivor series), the San Antonio Outback, that I just had to find something positive to post.

Let's start with what less charitable souls have termed "Mel's 2nd take on an apology, action!" I suppose I'm just naturally optimistic, but I do believe that he was sincere when he made this apology. While I would not go so far as calling him "Braveheart" for doing so, if Mel were a Care Bear he would certainly a fringe character named "Have-a-Heart". At any rate, his apology seems to be a step in the right direction. Here's Mel's apology.


Recently, I read a lovely piece on Voltaire's mistress by the good people at The Economist for the third week of May 2006. It seems that Voltaire, one of the preeminent figures of the Enlightenment, despite being acknowledged as a "Freethinker, dramatist, poet, scientist, economist, spy, politician" of the first order, was outdone in all these activities by his mistress, Emilie du Châtelet. In fact, according to the article, "...you can make a good case that she was a more rigorous thinker, a better writer, a more systematic scientist, a formidable mathematician, a wizard gambler, a more faithful lover and a much kinder and deeper person." Unfortunately, I could not access the premium services available online at The Economist. However, I can steer you to the blog of Edward Lucas to get you started. Gracias, Edward!


Also, The New York Times online edition recently did a fascinating study on Tom Hanks' astounding success as a producer. More remarkable than Hanks' enviable track record as a producer (having produced such hits as My Big Fat Greek Wedding and current box-office draw The Ant Bully) is what Hollywood insiders swear is the defining characteristic of Hanks and his business partners: their niceness. Unfortunately, The New York Times Online requires readers to log-in. It doesn't cost a thing to do so, but some might find that delay irritating. Here's a tidy link that rewards the impatient.
Click here if you want to read about Hanks' almost unbearable niceness of being.

Rash Decisions

I am a fool. Since Juan's been suffering from a spate of rather annoying ailments, things have been a little less than perfect at home. Juan eventually completed what I called the Royal Flush of Annoying Non-Life Threatening Ailments by developing a rash, which the doctor quickly diagnosed as being possibly contagious. Earlier, while I was considering taking Juan over to his grandmother (Tina's mom) to visit, Tina warned that "Baka naman magka-rashes si Mima". Without thinking, I replied "Don't worry, Sweety. The moment she starts making hasty generalizations on the state of Philippine politics or sweeping statements on the condition of souls prior to salvation, I'll get Juan out of there."

Needless to say...I'll stick to the declaration I made above. I am a fool. Oh well...

Mel Gibson: son of man

By now, I'm quite certain that most of you have heard of the unfortunate incident involving Hollywood actor Mel Gibson. Briefly, Mel Gibson was pulled over by deputized officers of the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department for driving under the influence of alcohol. In the course of making his objections to the arrest known, Mel was reliably documented to have made many disparaging comments about Jews such as "F*@king Jews", "The Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world", and in one instance, of women, "What do you think you're looking at, sugar t!t$?". While I am personally appalled by Mr. Gibson's well-documented outburst, it would be counter-productive to simply tabulate Mr. Gibson's related indiscretions regarding his religion. Rather, I would like to find out what may be done to avoid situations where the practice of one's faith could degenerate into cruel, unthinking acts that undermine the foundations of one's faith.

First, one must consider the incident itself. While I am not in the habit of "kicking a man when he's down", an inquiry of the sort that I would like to attempt should at least provide the facts regarding Mr. Gibson's altercation with the law. Newsweek's online magazine, Slate has a rather good summary of the events surrounding Braveheart's personal Falkirk.


There is a lot of spirited commentary on the implications of Mr. Gibson's actions. Allow me to share the more interesting opinions that I've come across:

"I also think that the difference between the blood-alcohol levels---and indeed, the speed limits---that occasioned the booking are insufficient to explain the expletives...One does not decide, between the first and second vodka, or the ticks of the indicator of velocity, that the Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion are valid after all." Christopher Hitchens, writing for Slate.


"Even in his apology, Gibson fudged. 'I am deeply ashamed of everything I said, and I apologize to anyone who I offended,' he said. 'Also, I take this opportunity to apologize to the deputies involved for my belligerent behavior.' We can see that Gibson had a lot of ground to cover here---he threatened to have one cop fired and called another 'sugar tits'. But still---he can single out a few deputies for an apology without a word for millions of Jews?" Kim Masters, writing for Slate.


Second, it is important to explore Mel Gibson's religious beliefs. Normally, I would be reluctant to do so, as religious faith is oftentimes a delicate matter which could easily be misrepresented even by well-meaning intellectuals and writers. However, in order to understand Mr. Gibson's actions, it becomes imperative to understand the context in which these actions could be considered reasonable.

Wikipedia on Sedevacantism.

Society of Saint Pius X on Sedevacantism.



Lastly, I can't emphasize enough that I am not inclined to condemn Mel Gibson for his actions. The Bible teaches that salvation is open to any who seek it, as may be clearly seen in the Gospel (Luke 23:39-43). Robert Zimmerman, better known as Bob Dylan, said "It is possible to be so reviled in this world that even your mother and father may disown you. When that happens, God will always believe in your ability to mend your ways." If there is one thing that several decades worth of Catholic schooling has taught me, it is that mistakes do not have to be final.