THERE is a new standard for true grit in college basketball, and he comes by the name Mac Belo.
He belongs in another class, because the way he played in the rubber match for the University Athletic Association of the Philippines (UAAP) basketball championship, he wasn’t only Captain Courageous. He was the caped superhero who willed his team back into the game, and on to victory.
The Tamaraws had a deeper bench and a taller front line. Even better, the league’s best starting five. To almost every fan in the UAAP, it was generally believed that this was a championship for them to lose. They came as close to four minutes of letting it go.
But it was a title Mac Bello, in his final year with Far Eastern University (FEU), badly wanted to own. He had had frustrations in the past, and he wouldn’t have taste another this time. He struck hardest when it was bleakest for the Tamaraws, shooting, rebounding and hustling in defense. He was even diving after loose balls in a willful and often reckless way to keep this title from slipping away.
Even with the best defense thrown by the UST Growling Tigers, and they were no lousy defenders, he was unstoppable. He played like mad. His statistics impressed me—23 points and eight rebounds, a dream game in a winner-take-all affair—but his entire game, bowled me over.
The best defensive play of the game reflected all that was heroic about this young man. In the dying seconds he had split his charities, and the rebound fell into the hands of the hottest Tiger of the night, Ed “Easy” Daquioag. The pesky UST guard, with little time left and the Goldies down by four points, went streaking to his front court and took the ball straight to the basket. And who did he find there, a blur that was blocking his path, throwing up his arms, that made Daquioag change his shot—and miss?
No one could have been as insanely driven to make that superhuman effort to make that sprint and stop a UST basket that might complicate the end game. But Belo was a driven man; he stamped his class in this defensive play.
That was the exclamation point to a game filled with his splendid play. He lay sprawled on the floor for some anxious moments. And when Belo could not pick himself up, exhausted no doubt from the relentless effort, his teammates did. They carried the hero of the night off the court, and into the waiting FEU bench that showered him with superlatives.
That was the way he ended the game—energy drained, momentarily dazed, torso and limbs aching. But in a moment he was up on his feet, as the final seconds ticked away.
Belo, the new standard for grit, ended his career at FEU with a championship, and owning the best individual silverware of them all—the Finals’ Most Valuable Player award. But the title wasn’t the true measure of his character on the court. There were many factors he brought into play for which the science of statistics have yet to coin a term, or invent a category.
I should include blood, sweat and tears. On a night when the lights were fading fast on the Tamaraws’ title quest, he didn’t fade. He, and the entire Tamaraws’ herd, remembered well the lessons from Game Two, which UST won on Kevin Ferrer’s heroics.
“I just told my players to focus on every moment, every possession,” winning coach Nash Racela said.
In the third quarter Belo scored nine points. He fueled an explosive run that powered the Tamaraws to a 51-41 lead. And when they ran into a scoring drought in the first six minutes of the final canto, when Daquioag’s scoring spree of his own built a six-point UST lead, Belo’s slumbering teammates reloaded their firepower.
Roger Pogoy had seven points in the final four minutes, none sweeter than the three-point shot that gave the Tamaraws the lead for good. It was Pogoy’s final year, too, with the Tams, and his triple punctuated his brilliant collegiate career with an exclamation point.
Then Mike Tolomia came through with a drive and added a free throw. The Tamaraws were 46 seconds away from the title. Half of the 23,000 fans in the gallery at SM Mall of Asia Arena were swooning.
The confetti cascaded from somewhere, the celebration crackled. Belo soaked up the energy and sheer joy of the moment. Over the din he shouted in Pilipino, “About time we get happy, all the sadness is over.”
These Tamaraws knew how to win in the clutches. “Our teamwork was there,” Belo concluded. “And our spirit. That we never gave up. We really gave it our all today.”
The vanquished found a good man to express their grief. It was Pido Jarencio, a former UST great, who summed it up, “My heart is bleeding.”
Until this pain is assuaged, the Growling Tigers will not be whole again. Sure, they will find a way to win. Perhaps, next year. Perhaps.