Why jueteng is unstoppable

By Gerry Garcia

EARLY hours  of last Friday, Nov. 24, marked the dawning of a great day for Manny Pacman and entourage whose expected arrival from Las Vegas, Nevada at the NAIA stirred the massing of thousands of welcomers exhilarated by his convincing triumph over Mexican Erik “Terrible” Morales in their final return bout on November 19.

The Pacquiao fever which caught legions of boxing afficionado was not sparing of a few politicians among the welcoming crowd, like Mayor Lito  Atienza who, according to the grapevine, would like the Bayang Kamao to run in ‘07 elections for Vice Mayor in tandem with his son who is aiming  for the mayoral position in Manila. Which, the Mayor probably thinks, is above board. Manny, after all, is an adopted Son of Manila.

Some fans of Manny, however, tended to be sober, like Jinky, Manny’s wife, who put her foot down. She does not want her hubby to ruin his future and that of their kids. Why? Because politics is dirty, period.
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Max Soliven died with his boots on

By Jun Velasco

IT was our brod Dan who texted us the “killer” message as early as 7:30 a.m. Friday: “Max Soliven died at 7 am today. I mourn the passing of an era of lively and great column writing.”

When a loved one, a revered one, an “idol” dies, a part of self dies, too. This was probably why Joy of The Punch kept nagging us for our column in the nick of final deadline.

As our daily menu, we usually glance at the headlines of three Manila dailies - the Inquirer, Star and the Bulletin, and by force of habit, turn the pages to our favorite columnists. Manong Max is always first, an old, old habit that began with the old Manila Times, when we were still in high school.

We first met Max in one of his visits in the early 60’s to Dagupan, as a close friend of the late orig Punchman Ermin Sr. We’ve bumped into him in several journalism seminars and media huddles in Manila.
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Please, don’t send in the clowns, Alvin

By Gonzalo Duque

I WISH to congratulate the Regional Medical Center headed by its director, Dr. Jess Canto, for the many innovations at the RMC.

Most people I have talked to have good words for him. Even my sisters in the United States led by Dr. Grace D. Dizon who will head a group of Fil-Am medical practitioners in conducting a medical clinic - with the RMC staff, of course - are impressed with the good work.

This is what I mean by “true PR.” In legal parlance, res ipsa loquitor (the thing speaks for itself). Whatever they say for or against Jess or the institution he represents (RMC) is immaterial because kitang-kita ang ebidensiya.

He has done a good job. What is worrying him though is that because of what he has done,   several groups are egging him to run for a public office. His name is being linked with two gubernatoriables, General Art Lomibao and my own brother, Sec. Pincoy (the latter denying any plan).

This goes to show that a good name, good work, anything that is good will stand out anytime.
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“Killing” the Vice Governor

By Eva C. Visperas

One radio reporter committed a grave mistake last Tuesday of reporting an item without verifying first his facts. He immediately announced that Vice Governor Oscar Lambino was comatose.

Fortunately, his fellow announcer, who evidently knew her rules in journalism better quickly asked around. She sent me a text message, asking me how the vice governor was as there was a report that he was in coma.

My texter, quoting the news reporter who started it all, said a staff nurse of the hospital where the vice governor was supposedly brought to, confirmed the news to him. The patient’s name, according to the nurse, was “Oscar Lambino” from Malasiqui.

I called the vice governor’s residence in Malasiqui. The maid answered the call. I asked if I could talk to the Vice Gov but I was told he was still inside his room. So I asked if I could talk instead to Ma’am Celia, the wife but she, too, was also still in the room. Failing to talk to either one, I then asked the maid if the Vice Gov was okay, and it he was not sick at all. I was assured he was not.
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After the fight

By Al S. Mendoza

LAS VEGAS, Nevada, USA - Manny Pacquiao is not only a brilliant boxer. He is also a good entertainer.

After knocking Erik Morales out in the third round on Nov. 19 (Nov. 18 here), Pacquiao immediately thought of the crowd. He not only wanted to thank them for their support, he also wanted to show his appreciation for their unending applause.

The guy is sincere when expressing gratitude. As much as possible, he would want to touch everybody.

But this time, he knew he couldn’t come down the ring. 

It was absolutely impossible for him to shake the hand of everybody. 

The 20,000-seat Thomas & Mack Center, a posh arena built inside the campus of the University of Nevada-Las Vegas (UNLV), was packed to the rafters - half of them Mexicans, half of them Filipinos.
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Gambling operation is exploitation

By Oscar V. Cruz D. D.

The exploitation of people is one of the worse social vices especially so in countries whose economic present is critical and whose developmental future is bleak. This is the Philippines and this is the serious evil of gambling in the country.

Be it legal or illegal, gambling in this nation is downright exploitation of people. Legal gambling exploits the idly wealthy, the corrupt and/or the greedy. Illegal gambling on the other hand exploits the poor, the gullible, the helpless.

The rich who indulge in legal gambling have no right to waste their resources, considering the basic needs of the poor who are millions. The poor who patronize illegal gambling should know by now that they are eventually rendered even poorer by cheating operators.
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Pharr away

By Jesus A. Garcia Jr.

PHARR, TEXAS — After 28 and a half years, I again set foot on this city. It is the place of my father, Jesus, Sr., my sister Angie, my brothers Roberto, Rolando and Rogelio, and my relatives on my father’s side. It is also the place where I migrated and obtained my ‘green card’ way back in1978.

It is located in the southern part of Texas, very close to the border of Mexico and 16,000 kilometers away from my birth place, Mangaldan.

It was a nostalgic homecoming with my auntie Idolina (youngest sister of my dad and the only living Garcia sibling), my brother Rolando, my stepmother Elvira, and my diligent first cousin Dago Garcia Soto meeting me at McAllen International Airport.

Of course, there were hugs, kisses and teary eyes the moment I saw them for the second time in my life. They missed me and I missed them, too. Three decades was too long for not seeing each other. The truth is this city is supposed to be my permanent place after winning my titles in the Philippines, but for some reasons too long to explain, it did not happen. It’s a long story and this space is not even enough to summarize both the smooth and turbulent run of my life during that period.
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Alone, yet Not Lonely

By Emmanuelle

If not at dusk at dawn, she walks, or runs a lazy jog. Through still empty streets or rapidly emptying ones, mountain trails, sandy shores or pebbled paths. These hours belong to her; she belongs to these hours.

She is young; she is old. She tucks her hair in granny’s bun or girlish pony tail. She wears long-sleeved closed-necks or flimsy-strapped tight-fits. She usually comes in blue; but sometimes she bursts in blinding colors of yellow, orange or red.

She hums, she sings, she swears. Her mood shifts from smile, to frown to tears.        

She talks to Him, to Her; to him, to them - those she holds most dear to her heart. “Oh, look, the flowers bloom for you!”  “The leaves, the grass are greener  this year.”  “I wish you could see this!” “See these through my eyes!” “Don’t ever be other than kind, you hear?” “Be safe, keep safe!” “I miss you.” “I am with you.”

They are with her.
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