The Jaworski and Ginebra mystique
LATE-BLOOMER. That’s who I am with regards to being a basketball fan. While other kids are pre-occupied in their free time with playing hoops in goals attached to trees or in barangay and school courts, I busy playing patintero, tumbang preso, teks and family computer (or NES) with my friends.
Perhaps my earliest memories of basketball include seeing Larry Bird and Magic Johnson in the television (and asking my titos if they can switch the channel to cartoon shows) and my grandparents telling stories about Robert Jaworksi and his team, Ginebra.
Jaworski, who?
Ginebra, what? In time
I will be introduced to them, in more ways than one.
Year 1995.
During that time we were living in an apartment complex in Mandaluyong, and through the window I can see the Reyes Gym across the street.
The gym is owned by the family of a PBA player at the time and is the venue where most of the PBA teams hold their practices. During school vacation, my tito used to bring me to the gym to watch team practices, and thus started my basketball fascination and education.
He would point to certain players and tell me: “See that fast guy? That’s Johnny Abarrientos” or “Yoyoy Villamin, he’s a bit old already but still very effective”. Slowly, I became hooked to the game watching the practices, from the squeaking sound of sneakers while they are running their plays, to the swishing sound of a perfectly made shot, to the grunting made while they are battling for rebounds.
I then started playing basketball with my friends, looking for courts around the block and beyond. I also started to watch basketball, particularly the PBA, to learn more about the players that I get to see regularly during practices.
During these viewing sessions I got to observe how big of a deal basketball is for Filipinos, seeing how most games are packed and hearing the cheers and jeers of the crowd.
I also noticed one thing: when this “Ginebra” team comes to play, the crowd appears to be much thicker and the game commentators less easier to hear (especially when this Robert Jaworski, who’s apparently the team’s playing coach checks into the game and scores a bucket or two). What gives?
1996.
In front of the Reyes Gym parking complex is the commissary of a baking company, with basketball goal made up of a metal hoop attached to some planks of wood. By then I would practice shoooting there quite frequently or play hoops with the workers there. At times the gates of the complex are left open because the players and coaches will be leaving the facility, so we occasionally stop the game to watch and do a “basketball show and tell”.