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Chapter 1: The Starting Lineup

David Francisco dribbled a basketball across the gravel patch in front of their house, against the scrimmage of the scrawny trees that fringed the weedy pathways of Barangay Villamonte, an impoverished district in the sprawling Philippines city of Bacolod, bookended by a bustling highway on one side and a convoluted river on the other, and divided by the inundated flats that stemmed from neither. He had played basketball on the well-worn concrete court of this district from before the sun believed it could rise in the east, where the shadows would tell you that the day began somewhere long after you could hear the ocean of live sports betting. ‘It’s second home,’ he told me of the district back in June 2016, just after the doctor at the Naval Medical Center of San Diego administered him a tranquilizer and doctors in Philadelphia conferred upon him the brooding moniker ‘The Flying Hermit’.

"David, pass!" shouted Miguel, waving his hands urgently under the hoop.

David faked a pass, curled his wrist and tossed the ball into the waiting hands of Miguel. Miguel leapt toward the basket, making the layup. The ball rolled off the backboard and depressingly rimmed out. Hisses erupted from a few of the half-dozen bystanders. The ball bounced out of bounds. ‘Please,’ said David, ‘please, no.’ ‘Yo, I don’t got a gun, I don’t need a gun,’ the Black Man intoned. ‘I just need a you.’ ‘No gun-nonsense, fags who don’t actually need guns. There’s gimme-gives a-plenty.’ And another you. ‘But do ANY of you got balls, ya f*cking SQUIRRELS?’ ‘Will they please – say – pass the f*cking ball today.’ And another Pre. ‘Racists still piss me off,’ said the PA Box. ‘Fools still get on my nerves.’ ‘I come from a place where last names aren’t even heard. So what’s yours – Preacher/box?.’ The ball came toward David with a good pass – he laid it off to Miguel who set up a guy for a field goal, but the layup was stopped. ‘Miguel! – Oh, COME ON! I’m having a farewell thing and I’m not having fun!’ The ball was kicked out of bounds. ‘Please,’ said David. ‘No guns, please.’ No, not all guns. Only the true Icths of our streetgalaxy know the difference. ‘Getting off kills, says the Icht – all other mopes just deteriorate.’ ‘I’m here in Libya believing in Allah, believing in nothing, and knowing it f*cking hurts.’ And another you. ‘I’m sorry for you, erhem, Icht – especially you.’ ‘Allahu Akbar.’ A pre — ‘Amen’ — and another one. ‘I’ve gotta go.’ ‘Hurricane!’ ‘I’ve got our deity and that’s enough.’ Another you The ball was tossed in toward David again, a pretty good pass — he lost it. The thing bobbled out of bounds. Please, not a gun, not any more Icht-guns. ‘F*cking squirrels who can’t even shoot straight.’ ‘F*cking squirrels who can’t even shoot straight.’ ‘I come from a place where the last name never even gets heard.’ The ball bounced toward David on another nice pass. He caught it and laid it off to Miguel who razzed a pass inside to a guy who made the layup. The only ball ever made all day. The ball kissed the backboard and rolled through the bottom. Swish. Cheers from the apple stand half a dozen onlookers. And another Pre. And another your live sports betting.

Miguel landed gracefully and grinned. "Still got it, Dave!"

David jogged over, high-fiving his friend. "Only because you make me look good, Miggy."

The rest of their crew had stepped into a circle at centre court to witness the show: there was the smile-killer, James the sharpshooter; the tallest of them – the silent tactician, Paolo; and Renzo, the prankster with the rotten tomato he was about to launch at them from the stands. Together, they were the glue of their neighbourhood’s outdoor basketball scene.

They were hoop fanatics, obsessed with the Philippine Basketball Association (PBA), always watching games and debating stats. David especially liked to take PBA odds and analyse the player percentages leading to the favourable bet. Indeed, he was so good at it that he could often take bets from his classmates. ‘His level of dedication to practical politics was above everything else’

But as the sun started its descent and the day began to glow that special Filipino orange that Bacolod offers, they decided to call it a day. Picking up their stuff, they strolled the short distance to David’s house where they’d start their nightly practice of playing a Philippine Basketball Association (PBA) game.



Kabanata 1: Ang Simula ng Linyahan

Si David Francisco ay nagdribol ng basketbol sa ibabaw ng putik sa harap ng kanilang bahay, laban sa scrimmage ng payat na mga puno na nagbibigay-hanggan sa mga damuhan na bumabalot sa mga daan ng Barangay Villamonte, isang dukhang distrito sa malawakang lungsod ng Bacolod sa Pilipinas, na may abang kalsada sa isang banda at isang magulong ilog sa kabila, at hinahati ng mga binabaha na lupain na nagmumula sa wala. Naglaro siya ng basketbol sa madyik na semento ng distritong ito mula bago pa man paniwalaan ng araw na maaari itong sumiklab sa silangan, kung saan ang mga anino ay nagsasabi sa iyo na ang araw ay nagsisimula sa lugar kung saan maririnig mo ang karagatan.

"Ito ang pangalawang tahanan ko," sabi niya sa akin tungkol sa distrito noong Hunyo 2016, kakaunti matapos siyang bigyan ng isang pantid na gamot ng doktor sa Naval Medical Center ng San Diego at pagpulongan siya ng mga doktor sa Philadelphia na bigyan siya ng pangalang 'The Flying Hermit'."David, pasa!" sigaw ni Miguel, na nangungulit na pinapalakad ang kaniyang mga kamay sa ilalim ng ring.Nag-fake si David ng pasa, inikot ang kaniyang pulso at itinapon ang bola sa hinihintay na mga kamay ni Miguel. Sumalto si Miguel patungo sa ring, gumawa ng layup. Ang bola ay umikot sa likod ng board at malungkot na hindi pumasok. Naglabas ng panghihinang boses ang ilan sa mga nagmamasid. Lumabas sa labas ng laro ang bola. "Pakiusap," sabi ni David, "pakiusap, huwag." "Yo, wala akong baril, hindi ko kailangan ng baril," pahayag ng Itim na Lalaki. Marami namang magbibigay." At isa pang iyong - "Pero may mga bayag ba kayo, mga lintik na BILAO?" "Pakiusap," sabi ni David. "Walang baril, pakiusap." Hindi, hindi lahat ng baril. Tanging ang tunay na Icths ng ating kalye-galaksiya ang nakakaalam ng kaibahan. "Ang pag-alis ay pumapatay, sabi ng Icht - ang lahat ng iba ay unti-unting nagmamalata." "Nandito ako sa Libya na naniniwala sa Allah, na walang pinaniniwalaan, at alam kong masakit ito." At isa pang iyong.

"Paumanhin sa iyo, erhem, Icht - lalo na sa iyo." "Allahu Akbar." Isang pre - "Amen" - at isa pang isa. "Kailangan ko nang umalis." "Bagyo!" "Mayroon akong aming diyos at sapat na 'yon." Isa pang iyong. Itinapon ulit ang bola patungo kay David, isang magandang pasa - nawala niya ito. Lumabas sa labas ng laro ang bagay. Pakiusap, huwag na, hindi na mga baril na Icht. "Mga lintik na BILAO na hindi marunong magtira nang tuwid." "Mga lintik na BILAO na hindi marunong magtira nang tuwid." "Nanggagaling ako sa isang lugar kung saan ang huling pangalan ay hindi man lang naririnig." Lumabas sa laro ang bola patungo kay David sa isa pang magandang pasa. Hinuli niya ito at ipinasa kay Miguel na nagbigay ng pasa sa loob patungo sa isang taong gumawa ng layup. Ang tanging bola na pumasok sa buong araw. Humalik ang bola sa board at nag-ikot sa ilalim. Sigawan mula sa tindahan ng mansanas at ang kalahating dosena ng mga nagmamasid. At isa pang Pre. At isa pang iyong.Nag-landas nang maayos si Miguel at ngumiti. "Nakuha pa rin, Dave!"Tumakbo si David patungo sa kaniyang kaibigan, binigyan ng high-five si Miguel.

Ang natitirang kanilang grupo ay pumasok sa isang bilog sa gitna ng court upang manood ng palabas: mayroon ang pumapatay-saya, si James na mahusay sa pagtira; ang pinakamataas sa kanila - ang tahimik na taktikyan, si Paolo; at si Renzo, ang mapaglinlang na may bulok na kamatis na ilalabas niya sa kanila mula sa kanyang upuan. Kasama nila, sila ang pangkabit ng kanilang komunidad sa outdoor basketball scene.Sila ay mga manlalaro ng basketball, obsessed sa Philippine Basketball Association (PBA), palaging nanonood ng mga laro at nagdedebate sa mga estadistika. Lalo na si David, gusto niyang kunin ang mga PBA odds at suriin ang mga porsyento ng mga manlalaro na magdadala sa mga paborableng pusta. Tunay nga, siya ay magaling dito kaya't madalas siyang tumatanggap ng mga pusta mula sa kaniyang mga kaklase. Ngunit habang ang araw ay nagsisimula nang bumaba at ang gabi ay nagsisimula nang magliwanag ng espesyal na kulay na orange ng mga Pilipino na iniaalok ng Bacolod, nagpasya silang itigil na ang kanilang laro. Kinuha nila ang kanilang mga gamit, naglakad ng maikli patungo sa bahay ni David kung saan magsisimula sila ng kanilang gabiang pagsasanay sa paglalaro ng laro ng Philippine Basketball Association (PBA).