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Heart Mate Canola Oil, the Philippines’ leading canola oil brand, isn’t just unveiling a new look — it’s reshaping how consumers experience a kitchen essential. With a thoughtfully redesigned bottle that blends aesthetics and function, the brand’s refresh doesn’t shout for attention — it earns it.
At first glance, the new Heart Mate bottle strikes a balance of elegance and practicality. Designed by no less than... read more
The Kings had previously held a 24-point lead in that game. But with an in-prime Shaquille O’Neal and Kobe Bryant, the Lakers were rarely ever down and out in any or other game. This match was no exception. However, this time around, another hero (or villain in my mind) rose up:
Robert. Freaking. Horry.
“Big Shot Bob” to most, eternal damnation to me. Why? Avid fans would know how this one played out but for the uninitiated, the game’s final moments played out like Sadako coming out of the TV set in “The Ring” – a nightmare coming to life.
Like any significant moment in any one’s life, this one I hold close to my heart but for all the wrong reasons. The Kings held a 99-97 lead with just 11.8 seconds remaining in the game. All they needed was one defensive stop and the match – Heck! - The series was theirs for the taking.
Kobe missed a lay-up. Shaq missed a tip-in. The ball was tipped back outside to the waiting hands of Horry beyond the three-point arc. The ball shot up. Buzzer sounds. The game hung in the balance. Swish. 100-99. Lakers win. Game. Set. Match.
Pandemonium for Laker lovers. Eternal misery for the Kings’ court as the Lakers went on to win that series in seven games and went all the way to the cherished championship that we should have had. Instead, all we got was a pat on the back for all our efforts, and years to ponder about what might have been if that ball had not gone to Robert Freaking Horry.
And there I was, with the rest of the household still deep in their slumber, my face in my hands with my heart sunk deep like the Titanic.
The wound from that loss, in my estimation, has not completely healed. Hence, I welcome you, my dear reader, to the life of a sports fanatic. No, not JUST a fan, but a fanatic.
How, pray tell, does one become a fanatic anyway? How does one pin their loyalties to a particular team, cheer and jubilate when they win, and shed tears and be morose when they lose? There are a lot of answers, though none of them might ever concretely rationalize the passion with which males and sometimes, females, ardently support their favored teams.
Me, it started with my favorite player actually. And like the rest of the world, my fascination with basketball started with Michael Jordan and the rest of the Chicago Bulls. When his era dimmed, the next generation came and I hopped on to the bandwagon of one “White Chocolate,” the flamboyant point guard, Jason Williams, who along with Chris Webber, rejuvenated a listless Kings franchise in 1998.
[img]http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uEGMTu0iHNA/Ta_pYZlZniI/AAAAAAAABjY/5TXga4U53Mc*******J_Will.jpg[/img]
Though Williams was eventually traded away to Memphis for Mike Bibby, I decided to stick with the Kings and rode with them ‘til the very end of their glory years. After that, I got captivated by this 18-year old, whom I based my college thesis on – LeBron James.
I was hooked. Stuck with him through the lean years in Cleveland. Sulked when he lost to San Antonio in the finals. Defended him all throughout the much-maligned “Decision.” Defended him some more (even got into a lengthy spat with my bestfriend because of this) when he lost to Dallas in the 2011 Finals. And was vindicated when he finally snatched the crown in 2012.
While others may identify their loyalties to a certain team because of a player, there are other factors that are involved:
Geography for one plays a huge part as evidenced by the rabid support that the Cebu Gems got here when they battled against visiting teams in the defunct Metropolitan Basketball Association. Who could ever forget our battle cry? It wasn’t “Let’s Go Gems!” It was more of “Batohon, batohon!”
And then, there’s lineage. Basketball is by far, the country’s unofficial national sport. It's pastime. It's passion. Our fathers watched it. Our grandfathers watched it. Their grandfathers watched it. Hence, the loyalty is ingrained then in the blood that runs through their veins.
Take the country’s most popular ball club for example – the Barangay Ginebra Kings. The “ka barangays” crisscross through age and through society’s different spectrums. You could a Ginebra lifer in a boardroom in Makati, or on the streets of Tondo. Why? The dedication is just passed on from one generation to another.
So, there, in a nutshell, is my not-so-brief history being a basketball fan. Officially, I root for the Miami Heat, the Alaska Aces, the NLEX Road Warriors (PBA D-League), the San Sebastian Stags (NCAA) and the Far Eastern University Tamaraws (UAAP).
If you’re reading this, then I’m sure you have your very own backstory being a sports fan. Tell us all about it. Mag iSTORYA Ta!
Jonas Rey N. Panerio
iSTORYAn League of Writers
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