Last Saturday evening I attended the bonfire celebration (as I am an Ateneo alumnus) for the various Ateneo de Manila University University Athletic Association of the Philippines (UAAP) champion teams at the grad school parking lot grounds.
Amid the festivity, I took a moment to reflect as I am wont to do in moments like this. I thought of three things.
The first was back in 1987 when I was in college and the Blue Eagles won the school’s first UAAP men’s basketball championship defeating the University of the East in the finals (where the team rallied from a 20-point deficit). A generation of Ateneans had gone by not knowing hardcourt success.
The last title was in 1976, when Ateneo was still in the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA). Even then, the team was expected to win the title but there was a momentary setback to San Beda. The team had to sweat it out for an additional game before joining the bonfire at the Loyola Center (as the Blue Eagle Gym was then called).
During the simple celebration, the Ateneo men’s volleyball team—back-to-back NCAA champions just like the basketball team—was called to the stage. Jimmy Javier, the captain of that volleyball team was surprised they were called up to the stage and the only thing he could say at that moment was, “Thank you.” And they went down.
When Ateneo transferred to the UAAP, the high-school team was the power (in most sports). The college teams didn’t fare well. Until 1987.
There was no stage outside the Loyola Center; no planned celebration even if we kind of expected to win the title. It seemed so incredible after years of losing. And somehow, a lot of people turned up at the school grounds for an impromptu bonfire of twigs, branches and newspapers all thrown into this makeshift pyre. One student even threw in his textbook (much to his regret I was later told).
Blue Festin, a batchmate of mine who was with the Blue Babble Battalion, recalled that a flatbed truck was used as a makeshift stage. Another batchmate of mine who was also a cheerleader, Jeff Tan, recalled too that there was this security guard named Lazo who prevented some alumnus from throwing a car tire into the fire. Hahahahaha. That was something, I tell you.
The late University Athletics Director, Fr. Raymond Holscher, SJ, had all the lights around the Loyola Center switched on. He had what tables and chairs available inside the gym brought out. There wasn’t enough so we all sat down by the curb or anywhere. And I do remember that beer was allowed on campus that night.
In 2002, after a 14-year drought from the back-to-back titles of 1987 and 1988, the bonfire was planned a few days after; hence, it was more organized and had a feel of a real event. This became sort of the template for the post-title celebrations.
My second thought was from a much different and even simpler time. Back when the school called Intramuros (and later Padre Faura in Manila) home at the turn of the 20th century, the school celebrated a championship with a torchlight parade that snaked up from Lawton to around and in the Walled City. When they got to the Ateneo campus, there was that bonfire in the open grounds.
We were the first and only school to hold the bonfire. I once heard from a Jesuit priest who has since passed away that these bonfire celebrations were an off-shoot of the boyscout campfires that they adopted back in the day.
I can only imagine what it was like with the small student body singing then.
My third thought was of that particular Saturday evening to celebrate the school’s first semester champions and achievers.
I recall after Season 76 when the five-peat was firmly over, university president Fr. Jett Villarin, SJ, decreed that there still be a bonfire. My first reaction was, “What? Why? We didn’t even win!”
But the Jesuit priest, in his wisdom, explained that it is to be a celebration of the Ateneo athlete and not just the basketball champions. And what a brilliant idea it was. I thought of Jimmy Javier and his volleyball team who, prior to that celebration, saw no team outside the basketball team feted for their success.
As I stood and watched last Saturday night’s proceedings, we all oohed and aahed to hear these swimmers win anywhere from 36 to 66 medals in their school career. Amazing!
And that is why this celebration is important at least to us in the community.
A year ago, my family and I were at the celebration after defeating the heavily favored DLSU Green Archers in the finals. Although I knew (and wrote about it before the series) that we’d beat them, my post-game thoughts were the same as this year’s. To be thankful for moments and times like these.
Ateneo has returned to its powerhouse status that it once enjoyed in the NCAA. But these are different days. We don’t get these athletes—like Jessie Khing Lacuna, those swimmers on the women’s team, an Alyssa Valdez, and others I cannot mention right now—all the time. They come once in a generation.
As I left the Ateneo campus around midnight, I said a short prayer. As I passed by that spot outside Blue Eagle Gym near its parking lot where that impromptu bonfire was once lit back in 1987, I stifled a chuckle. I swear that I saw Fr. Ray bring out some drinks and barking orders for the lights to be opened. I saw my classmates tossing fallen branches and twigs. And people singing and well, being rowdy.
Just as that October night in 1987, I don’t think I slept much. And the coffee the next morning, tasted great.