And before I knew it, tears were on my eyes. The memories. The sleepless nights I spent looking for livestreams for their middle east jousts. The classes I deliberately missed (Do not follow my example!) because it was in conflict with their games. The arguments I had with crabs on cyberspace who were doubting their capabilities and Filipino heritage. The opportunities I missed to go out with my friends because Gilas had a PBA game. I chose them over sleep, my classes, my productivity on the internet and my friends. I do not regret any of it.
People around me rarely talked about them. I felt isolated. I had no one to talk to personally. I had the Interbasket forums but I've been bothered by a troll named Big_ticket which reverted my status to being a lurker. Add the fact that I'm only one of the three guys in class at that time (currently the only one who happens to be a regular student) where girls are engrossed with trivial matters such as teleseryes and KPOOP (as a Filipino basketball fan, I have a natural hatred of South Korea, but not to the point of making me a racist douchebag).
It was all WORTH IT. I was obsessed. Addicted. Blinded. I didn't care. I prayed for my national team before going to bed. Daydreamed in every Trigonometry class (which I regret every examination period) about them... with their right hand on their chests, singing the national anthem in some indoor arena in London up against a European team which would probably beat them black and blue.
With every victory, they put a smile on my face. With every loss, a better performance to look forward to. I was a fanboy. I'm not ashamed.
I loved Smart Gilas Pilipinas despite the heartbreak.
Even if it ended that way, it was all worth it. Thank you Gilas. ~KP
People around me rarely talked about them. I felt isolated. I had no one to talk to personally. I had the Interbasket forums but I've been bothered by a troll named Big_ticket which reverted my status to being a lurker. Add the fact that I'm only one of the three guys in class at that time (currently the only one who happens to be a regular student) where girls are engrossed with trivial matters such as teleseryes and KPOOP (as a Filipino basketball fan, I have a natural hatred of South Korea, but not to the point of making me a racist douchebag).
It was all WORTH IT. I was obsessed. Addicted. Blinded. I didn't care. I prayed for my national team before going to bed. Daydreamed in every Trigonometry class (which I regret every examination period) about them... with their right hand on their chests, singing the national anthem in some indoor arena in London up against a European team which would probably beat them black and blue.
With every victory, they put a smile on my face. With every loss, a better performance to look forward to. I was a fanboy. I'm not ashamed.
I loved Smart Gilas Pilipinas despite the heartbreak.
Even if it ended that way, it was all worth it. Thank you Gilas. ~KP
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| Photo from FIBA Asia |
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