HOW precious is the Filipino citizenship of Juan dela Cruz?
To many, it’s a badge of honor so sacred that he would even be so willing to die for his country.
Let no one cheapen or trifle with the word “Filipino.” It is priceless and not for sale to the highest bidder. You may sell your soul to other countries – I don’t really care – but do not do it here and insult the intelligence of nationalistic Filipinos by selling the country down the river for several pieces of silver.
It is in this scenario that I say: Good riddance to this ugly basketball mercenary. Sure you had played for the national flag for some time but you, too had been handsomely been paid for your services.
But now, you have opted out of your national obligations for reasons that no sane hoops follower can fathom.
Was it all about money? And without a contract? You want more moolah to suit up for the national colors after bankrolling $2.5 million in playing 30 games in five months for a Chinese professional team this past campaign? And because it was not here, you opted out?
For security reasons? Scared because the FIBA Asia Cup (the precursor of the Asian Basketball Confederation then FIBA Asia Championship) is being held in war-torn Lebanon in the next two weeks (August 8-20)?
An American, of which you truly are, is scared of setting foot on Lebanon soil? But are you not also a Filipino now by virtue of a “quickie” naturalization act by Congress that cheapen the value of Filipino citizenship? You acquired Filipino citizenship on a silver platter even BEFORE you had first seen the light of day in the Philippines or eaten balut or adobo; you simply visited the Philippine embassy in New York to secure your naturalization papers there perhaps even believing you were going to be the Savior of Philippine Basketball.
Some ordinary people who were born and lived here for decades needed some time and effort to obtain naturalized Filipino citizenship, but here is somebody who got one in a jiffy, simply for basketball?
The Filipinos are a brave race. You only have to look up to our battle-scarred soldiers out fighting local and foreign extremists in Marawi City for the past three months.
And now it’s time that this basketball mercenary to show how Filipino you are, you chickened out. What a blast!
So close to the 16-nation FIBA Asia Cup then this former NBA journeyman pulled the plug from the national team and left it with an empty bag. Sure, Filipino-German Christian Karl Standhardinger is his replacement as the team’s naturalized “import” but I just wonder why the 6-foot-7, 28-year-old Munich-born frontliner on the PH contingent, which placed fourth in the club-based 39th William Jones Cup competitions won by Canada last July, has been designated as our “import” if he owned Filipino blood unless he did not declare any Filipino lineage before his 16th birthday, a FIBA policy to prevent teams from circumventing the one-naturalized-player-per-team rule.
Basketball mercenaries have mushroomed all over the world because of FIBA’s decision to allow one naturalized player per team (it was two in the distant past). Show me your money and give me some love and I’m willing to play for your country without sacrificing my American (or other) citizenship. This is bastardized basketball at its worst.
Unlike the aforementioned mercenary on the PH team, I like the attitude of his predecessor Marcus Eugene Douthit who, too, acquired Filipino citizenship through a quickie act of Congress. In the case of this 6-foot-11 native of Syracuse, New York he did not abandon ship. The Providence College product, who now plays for the Hanoi Buffaloes in the fledgling Thailand Basketball Super League, was relieved by the national basketball federation following a four-year stint due to old age (he’s now 37 years old).
This brings me to another point. If Douthit officially became a naturalized Filipino citizen on March 11, 2011, why did he had to play as an “import” for Air21 Express in the Philippine Basketball Association during the 2011-12 season?
Was there a double standard committed? In the past, some players of Chinese descent who later became naturalized Filipino citizens (Fortunato “Atoy” Co Jr., for example) also played in Asia’s first pro league but they were considered as “local” players with no restrictions whatsoever.
Is not the sauce for the gander also the sauce for the goose?
ASomething is strange. I wonder aloud.