to live, to love, to learn, to leave a legacy… and to laugh along the way
The experiences I gathered taught me that war is not composed solely of heroic battles, dramatic victories, or thrilling near-death escapes that we see in the movies. It is also made up of empty seats at family tables. Of birthdays spent far from home. Of children who know their fathers only through photographs. Of friendships ended abruptly by a burst of gunfire. Of brave men making decisions that unknowingly become their last.
Before the Academy, my life was a jumble of momentary thrills, lacking any definite path, lacking a purpose in life. The Academy nurtured something deeper: a profound sense of discipline and a maturity that I hadn’t known I possessed. It was as if a door had cracked open, and light began to spill in, revealing a landscape of golden possibilities I had never dreamed of. I walked in a boy looking for an exit; I walked out a man who had found a calling.
The best lesson basketball has taught me? That life is meant to be lived, not just survived. Yes, there will be missed shots, bad passes, tough losses, and days when nothing seems to bounce your way. But there will also be joy and laughter in the locker room, friends who celebrate your smallest victories, and moments so satisfying you wish the clock would stop.
Fifty years have lapsed in a heartbeat, yet I can still smell the pine-scented air of the Academy, and feel the frantic thumping in my chest as we marched down those “51 steps.” We were just boys then – naive, unsure of ourselves, and miles away from the families who waved us goodbye at Camp Aguinaldo or elsewhere. We didn’t know that we would be stripped of our civilian antics and molded into the leaders we would later be. Today, the echoes of those barking orders still reverberate as cherished stories of old men, but the fire lit that fateful April Fools’ Day will never waver.
Life doesn’t need to be complicated to be fulfilling; it just needs a dash of adventure, a bit of competition, and a creative mind to capture it all. My playing days may be over. As my Papa used to say: I used to be an all-around athlete, but now the only athlete left in me is my athlete’s foot! But the passion for the game – and the stories behind it – will remain as strong as ever.
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 those good old days.
Color My World 