(5th of ‘Life’ Series)
In grade school, the block around our street turned into a little universe of its own. Our days were filled with running races, make-belief battlefields, and simple games that made time feel endless – with local fun-filled kiddie games such as patintero, tumbang preso, teks, holen, and syato. We played under the bright sun, and sometimes under a silver full moon; our laughter piercing the silence of the night. We would search the canals for lost marbles or other toy treasures tucked away, unmindful of health or cleanliness issues, certain that our not-so-clean exploration would yield joyous finds. Summers meant beach days, where the sand and the sea shared their stories with us, even as our skin got burnt from too much sun.
School brought a new kind of team sport: basketball. My Papa bought me a basketball one Christmas, a gift that lit up my heart and deepened my involvement in the game. Basketball became a friend I could run to like a loyal dog, and it carried with it my hopes and dreams of a fun-filled future.
High school further sharpened my sports-skills. I found my stride as a player-coach, guiding my teammates and learning the rudiments of leadership and the value of listening as much as I spoke. From my first year in Philippine Science High School (Pisay) through third year, I wore both roles – as player and coach – with pride, grateful for every new experience that turned into lessons in leadership and camaraderie.
Then came a sudden shift in my world – moving from the intensity of Pisay back to Divine Word College in Tagbilaran. I was struggling academically, and the rising tide of student activism in Manila had begun to pull me in a different direction. (More on this later.) Before I knew it, I was sent packing for home in Tagbilaran to finish my high school years. There, the environment was so much different, so laid back. There, the basketball court would help me find my footing. The game became a major part of my acceptance to the community. And I’d like to think I was evolving into a reliable point guard – someone who could lead with confidence and a steady hand.
Around that time, I discovered another fulfilling endeavor: sportswriting. It started as a natural extension of my Pisay days, where I chose Journalism as my elective over the different foreign language offerings. The habit of watching, noting, and telling stories still remains with me; and even now, I find myself returning to my writing desk regularly, because sports still holds a special place in my heart.
Looking back, I’m grateful for those early days of sun and games, for the friendships that added so much color and excitement into my life, and for the teachers and mentors who showed me that effort and heart can carry you far. I carry those memories with me as my little badge of honor, trusting that the future holds brighter paths to run, write, and remember – with the same innocence, gratitude, and wonder that filled my happy childhood.
Cover pic courtesy of YouTube. Other pics courtesy of Pinterest, Instagram, DreamsTime, Facebook, Global Campaign for Pace Education, New York Times and the Holgy Library.








I’ve wondered where you cultivated your good ability to write about sports. Now I know!
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A big part of it came from Pisay. We had elective subjects then: either you took up a foreign language (German, French, Japanese, Chinese) or you take up Journalism. That’s where I got the basics.
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