CHICAGO - Ever since my byline first appeared in the front page of a Cebu City newspaper way back in 1993 when Micheal Jordan shocked the world with his abrupt retirement, writing about sports has always been one of the centering forces in my life.
After stints as a play-by-play announcer on dyMF radio, a color commentator on SkeCable TV and online editor, I eventually found a suitable calling: column-writing.
As an opinion writer I cherish the solitude of pre-dawn hours when I can be alone with my thoughts as I dive deep into a sports topic of choice.
The tools I need for my task are plenty, but simple.
A comfortable chair and a small table. A neat piece of bond paper to take notes on while I research. A jubilee of colored pens, and a laptop computer that is powered by a strong wi-fi connection.
Sports to me isn't just an exotic escape from the maddening world, it has actually been, once upon a time, a career path that provided me an avenue to access the world's grandest arenas and interview the athletes.
And while I do this thing mainly as a hobby now, I still look forward to the early morning silence, forever grateful that as I fade into the hue of middle age, I still have a platform where I can express myself about my first love (boxing) and beloved mistress (NBA basketball).
And then it all stopped. Rudely, unexpectedly.
Boredom soon came, followed by emptiness. And then sadness.
All because of an unseen, indiscriminately deadly, virus that has crippled the globe with its reckless spread.
As we sports fans wallow in our collective anguish, there is solace in the thought that the games, paused for now, will eventually, inevitably be played again.
Time, as they say, heals all wounds.
But what about those athletes who do not have the luxury of time?
Due to the excessively violent nature of their sport, boxers have a limited shelf life. Shaving a few months off their calendar can be catastrophic both to their careers and bank accounts.
Unlike NBA players who have guaranteed contracts that were collectively bargained, fighters get paid only when they fight.
So for now, all they can do is to jab away the rust while helplessly watching the clock tick.
I think about my good friend, Senator Manny Pacquiao. Dormant since last July 2019 and with no foreseeable fight until June or July this year at the earliest, I wonder what toll the extended inactivity will take on our 41-year old national treasure.
HAIL TO THE KING. When the NBA halted action early last month, LeBron James was gracefully getting into the rhythm of his old MVP self. If this season is a wash, LeBron arguably has the most to lose. All he can potentially show for a magical Lakers season is that he got a year older at 35.
Although not a fan, I don't want to see LeBron taken down by a flagrant foul like this. A driving force in the NBA for the better part of 17 years, The King deserves to win or lose another title on his terms, with his power and abilities in play.
With this year's Wimbledon canceled, I feel sad for Roger Federer. I've always loved this Swiss bliss, the majesty of his ground strokes and the divine elegance of his one-handed backhand. But at age 38, with back and knee injuries slowing him, this year's Wimbledon was his last best chance to win a Grand Slam on grass.
There is joy to be found in the news that the Summer Olympics was just postponed, not canceled. But for many Olympians, who punish themselves in training to fulfill that chance of a golden moment just once every four years, a 12-month recess can be a life sentence chipping away at their athletic primes.
According to scientists, a COVID-19 vaccine will eventually be developed in the next 10 to 18 months. Normalcy will return and life goes on.
But for countless athletes, all of whom navigate on borrowed time, things will never be the same again.
Like stains on old carpet, the damage inflicted by coronovirus will never go away.
Source: Spin PH
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