Summoning the mythos of Jaworski and Ginebra.
By Martin Sarmenta
It was as if Achilles simply dusted off his
beloved armour, ready to take Troy anew. Or Demolition Man (complete with a Stallonian
accent), unfrozen from cryogenic preservation, ready to kick ass in a new
century. Robert Jaworski, Sr spoke. Jawo was every bit an Achilles, Demolition
Man and more, especially to his legions of devout Ginebra fans spanning at
least three generations. He had just hinted at a possible return to active
duty. “May konti pa akong taba sa abs. Pero kaya pa naman,” he was quoted as
saying. He added, “But if I can’t do it fully, I won’t do it.”
Through quick turns-of-phrase, during the
announcement that his Number 7 jersey would be retired on July 8, Jaworski
hinted at immortality. Why not? He is, after all, The Living Legend. He is
living proof that passion chooses no age. He is walking evidence that heart is
more important the technical know-how. Who knows how to rile a crowd better
than Jaworski? When you say “Ginebra,” you still think of Jaworski.
Yet I was never a hardcore Ginebra fan. I
cheered more for The Captain and Purefoods than for Jaworski and his Barangay (probably because hotdogs
seemed more wholesome than gin to an eight year old). Still, Ginebra’s significance
was never lost on me. Whenever Purefoods played Ginebra, I remember always
getting upset with Ginebra’s loud fans. It felt like shouting against unending
thunder.
When I reached high school, however, I started
to appreciate the entire Barangay Ginebra phenomenon as a way by which people
cheer for heroes, albeit, bordering on absurd. I wrote an actual research paper
about the Ginebra mythos by the time I was in college. I finally saw them as a
reflection of the Pinoy Spirit. Jaworski
is the cornerstone of that mythos.
Just like Thanos in the Infinity Gauntlet
Saga, Wolverine in X-Men, the fizz in your Coca-Cola, Jawo brings a certain OMG-WTF to a team, a franchise, a league.
He built his teams using players who, like him, played with pride, a chip on
their shoulder, and knew how to use the full extent of the rules (in Pinoy blacktop speak: gulang). We recall “The Tank” Noli
Locsin, “The Skyscraper” Marlou Aquino, “The Flash” Bal David, “Mr. Adrenaline”
Jayvee Gayoso, and others.
Jaworski coached them. He played with them. He made the crowd
feel that they were on the court with them too – play by play, sweat drop by
sweat drop, from start to finish. Legend has it that he would not go home until
he had pleased every single soul who had lined up after games, praying to get
his autograph.
My officemate, a die-hard Ginebra fan, never
misses a beat. He knows the line-up, who left, who arrived, why Siot Tanquincen
coaches well, and why he doesn’t. Like most die-hard Barangay mainstays, he holds
his head high when they win and has a scathing commentary of his team’s play
and the league’s officiating when they lose. These past few conferences, he’s
been loyal, but he feels Ginebra has successfully given him a Split Personality
Disorder.
I bet my officemate feels the same way Siot
and Jawo feel. This current team needs to win it all. My officemate’s anxiety
actually intersects with the Ginebra’s need for fresh character-defining
moments. Something momentous must happen soon. Jaworski and his Ginebra Legend must
live on.
Perhaps Jawo sort of knows the answer to
that? Jaworski has always been about heart: honest-to-goodness,
fresh-with-blood-spattering-all-over-the-court heart. C’mon Ginebra! Ask
yourself. W.W.J.D. What would Jawo do?
It’s always good to remind fans why they love this league. It’s always fun to
witness what makes Pinoy Basketball
special. By our stars, place on the continent and natural physical gifts, we
shouldn’t even be playing the damn sport – but by God, give us a ball and we’ll
make magic.
The Ginebra Kings are at a crossroads. I
see an opportunity to continue a tradition. They have one last chance to win a
championship this season. They can make a dramatic run to the Finals. They can
make people from all walks of life talk about Ginebra the way they should. For
their fans, immortality always beckons. Ginebra could use a
classic-Jaworski-style Ginebra resurgence right about now. Never say die. Jawo
has always personified that spirit. Give us a ball, we’ll make magic. That’s
the Ginebra mythos. That’s the Jaworski mythos. That’s our mythos. I know my
officemate would love it. Jawo would, too. MS
