Bagong Karanasan sa Rio Part 6: Nashninho scores goaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal!


Tita ha, masyado ka yatang nag-eenjoy dyan sa pole. Baket parang yumugyog ka ng husto eh hinda nga karag-karag ang dinaraanan ng tren???

I hate zoos. In fact the Rio zoo is the first big zoo I have ever visited in my entire life. Although it showcases animals only found in the Amazon, I felt miserable having to view them caged. I made a mental note to save money to properly visit the Amazon jungle next time and see all these animals in their natural environment.

There is however a zoo in the Philippines where the animals are IN their native environment. It's called the Philippine House of Congress and you can see a scary number of crocodiles, leeches, pigs, lower primates, and big-eared jesters.

I wasn't supposed to visit the zoo anyway. My original morning plan was to kick in some goals at Brasil's most revered football pitch, The Maracana Stadium. I wanted to see Pele's hand and footprints and try to show off my ball handling skills.

Sadly, the stadium was closed due to preparations for the Pan American games. I had to contend myself with jogging around the stadium.

Yes, maniwala kayo sa hindi (pota naman, hindi ako sinungaling, di ko ka-ano ano si GMA), football was my FIRST choice of sport. In fact, my beloved city of Baguio has 3 full-length football pitches.

At the beach, I showed some flashes of the old brilliance that earned me the nickname "kasla Pele" in primary school. I quickly dispatched 6 year old kids crying to their mothers as I embarrassed them with a succession of goals. (Tse! This is Brasil, the 6 year olds are just as good noh!).

Back then, my path to football greatness was assured and I was ready to adopt the one name standard, dropping my surname and simply being called "Nash".

Or so I thought.

By some twisted logic, a nation of short hobbit people, The Republic of the Philippines, has decided that Basketball would be our NATIONAL sport. (Naku, kahit officially "sipa" dapat ayon sa ating mga libro, nakakita ba kayo ng sepak takraw court noong mga araw na yun????).

The guidance counsellor, who was also the varsity coach, plucked me away from my comfort zone of bicycle kicks, and made me a basketball small forward. Mind you, I was a good basketball player, the footwork I learned from football made me a very creative player inside the shaded lane.

Sadly, NO ONE reminded me about genetics.

My conversation with the sports adviser went like this:
Father's height? 5'11"
Mother's height? 5'0".
Ok, you're in. You have a bright future in basketball.

By high school, I had stopped growing and even with my impressive vertical leap (we used to tap the backboard after a lay-up just to show off) I was simply too short at 4'13" to make any significant contributions. Pero hwag kayo, pag puro parehong pandak mga kalaro ko, naku, wala sila match sa aking Jordanesque moves.

Eventually all the jumping took its toll and I was diagnosed with Osgood-Schlatter disease. My knees hurt so bad that I needed powerful NSAIDs (hay naku, more-superpowerful than Ponstan iniinom ko noon).

I did my best to stick to the local albularyo's (quack doctor) advice on how to grow taller, like getting circumcised and jumping at the stroke of New Year. I also wanked a lot because apparently that adds inches to one's height. I now think masturbation is just as (in)effective as those black growth balls although I'm convinced it affects your eyesight as I now wear glasses.

To this day, my beloved country, The Republic of The Philippines, thinks it will be a Basketball powerhouse. In fact, the government has sent many Filipinas abroad for a radical gene-exchange program and we have produced some tall mongrels out there. Sadly, the very tall ones are simply just that, tall. No skills whatsoever. Yo, gigantor, you is supposed to catch the ball with your hands, don't approach it with your face, duh...

And so, tears welled in my eyes and my throat choked the same way when I first stepped at Barcelona FC stadium and Madrid's Bernabeu as I circled the Maracana.

I shouldn't have been so ill-advised. I should have continued playing the beautiful game. By now, I would have had 3 failed marriages to models, big endorsement contracts, one allegation of game fixing, seven sex scandals, and the godlike stature of a proper football star.

To the sports coordinators at SLU-LES, my beloved primary school: Potang-ena! Sinira nyo future ko! Kung nanatili sana ako sa football, eh di nagmomodelo na sana ako ng underwear sa naglalakihang EDSA billboards at ang aking syota ay isang super-ganda na chika-babes!


Holy Ground, The Maracana Stadium....

Let freedom reign! Free the monkeys! Put animals like Jose de Venecia, Loren Legarda, Mike Defensor, and Chiz Escudero in a cage instead!

Lion to annoying man shouting at him: Tang-ina ka, pasalamat ka merong fence, kung hindi, kanina pa kita inupakan.

Why are we all facing the same way while eating lunch? Duh, because we is watching a very gripping telenovela! Shet, kainis, nakakabitin!!!!!! Subaybayan, Itutuloy bukas ulit!