Amando Chacon grew up in Intramuros. His father was from the Visayas and his mother was an indigenous resident of the Walled city. His father worked in a factory while his mother did house chores. Manding, as he was called, was a product of the public school as the private schools in Intramuros were expensive and unaffordable for his parents
On his way to school, this young lad would pass by the Victoria Tennis Club courts where so many lawn tennis aficionados were playing throughout the day. At times he would sit on the elevated grassy ground and watch the players in the fascinating racquet on an almost white ground. At home, Manding would relate the events of the day to his younger brothers and his parents who would listen with interest.
“Do you want to work in your spare time kid?” a burly man in white t-shirt asked Manding as he was watching a tennis match in one of the courts.
“Yes sir!” replied the boy. “How come sir you picked me when there are so many around?” he followed up.
“Just a hunch son. I always see you around watching the players almost daily on your way home from school” smiled the man with a fine set of pearly teeth. “Can you start on Saturday?”
Yes sir. I will inform my parents and I am sure they will not object to my earning some money” answered the boy.
With the parental go signal, Manding became a ball picker in a tennis club where so many people play for exercise, for leisure or to meet people. Even on ordinary days, Manding would be in the court after his classes so that he could earn some cash to meet certain school expenses.
“Here, try this for size, Manding” offered the playground supervisor when there were no players in the court. “When we are not busy here, I will teach you the sport if you have the aptitude”, the man followed up. So Manding, small and young, learned the basics of the game of tennis. He was a quick learner and followed all the tips given to him by the supervisor and mentor.
When he was in high school, he was already an accomplished player, beating many who were older than he was. Soon, he was a young man to beat and watch. The mentor was astonished with his rapid progress.
Then the junior tennis tilt came. Manding joined the competition, and as his mentor predicted, he romped away with the championship in the singles. Eventually, he became the assistant supervisor in the club. For three years, Manding held the title until he joined the college league. Again he was the decisive winner. His name was published in all the papers. Manding was no longer the ordinary player; he was a champ to watch.
In college he got a scholarship for being a player. His legion of admirers grew. His name was rumoured to become the new national champion. “Manding, you are a rising player, complete your college education which will be your insurance for your future. Your playing skills will not be with you forever” advised his father. “I will remember that father”, Manding replied.
In the big circuit, Manding won the singles championship. In the club, he became an instructor with a long line of professionals, young ones, and even women wanting to have him as instructor. His parents were jubilant over his success, for many a time, Manding would give money to his parents and brothers.
“Manding, I heard will go abroad for international tennis competition, so you better be prepared” advised his mentor at the club who by that time had retired but continued to see the “pulot boy” he hired to emerge as national tennis star.
The team that would compete abroad was formed and Manding was the first on the list. Three or four other players plus the coaches will join the big trip abroad. That would be a test to determine the local players’ skill against international players. Then, their training started under rigid and scrutinizing eyes of the coaches.
Then the team left for the foreign competition. It was top news in the local sports pages, and magazines. Mostly everyone was banking on Manding as the number one player in the local circuit.
The Philippine tennis team stayed in a middle class hotel of the city where the competition was being held. Two players occupied a room, while the coaches and other officials were in the other single rooms.
In his three matches, Manding disposed his non seeded opponents in the strikeout series. His roommate lost in one match and had to wait to play later in the double or mixed doubles. In another match, only Manding was left as, all other players are eliminated.
“You will be playing quarter finals tomorrow and I hope you the best. Rest early, for tomorrow will be the big day” admonished the accompanying coach official of the delegation.
At about midnight Manding woke up to a light tap on the door. He pulled the switch of the lampshade beside the bed and got up in his sleepers. In the partially dimmed room, Manding opened the door. “May I come in?” spoke softly a melodious voice of a woman whose body scent filed the room. Unused to that situation, Manding let the girl and a companion entered the room. By that time, Manding roommate woke up surprised. The girls, as if on cue, split their way one went to Manding and the other to his roommate. No words were spoken as the two girls sat beside them on the bed, slowly removing their coats, placing their handbags on the small table beside each bed.
With jackets removed, the two beautiful girls displayed their beautiful curvaceous forms, in their low plunging necklines, and revealing clothes. Unused to such a critical situation, both roommates did no know what to do.
“I won’t bite, darling”, the blonde girl said to Manding and started kissing him passionately. Manding thinking of his game the following day, tried to resist but the girl hugged him. He could not resist the temptation any longer. On the other bed, the two were already in the midst of romantic acrobatics as Manding’s co-player was much older than he was and used to night clubbing and dating girls.
His bed mates pulled the switch off the lamp and the room went dark. The two young men as red-blooded humans yielded to the seductive temptations they may be the wrong men but it was the right time and the right place. After two long hours, like a stealthy shadow, Manding’s partner dressed up and left the room followed by the other girl. The two, too tired to analyse the situation fell asleep.
“Manding get up”, nudged the coach who entered the room with the room boy who opened the door for him. “Be ready in ten minutes and will for you in the dining hall” followed by the coach as he left the room.
In the packed house open arena, Manding the hope of the group simply buckled down during the game. He missed easy shots, and his volleys and services were devoid power. His timing was awful, and he could not retrieve easy balls of his opponent. In three straight sets, Manding suffered an ignoble defeat. His roommate, who did not play, was the only one who knew the cause and the answer to the debacle. But he remained silent.
“What happened, Manding? What’s wrong”? blurted the team manager on their way back to the hotel. Manding remained silent like a sphinx; he could not reveal what happened the night before. Although the Philippine delegation won other events, the hope pinned on Manding was shattered beyond belief.
After the meet, the host of the games gave a cocktail for all the participants. Manding the rest were there. As Manding was enjoying his bloody mary with some players from other countries, he heard a familiar voice that he could not forget. “Remember me”? she said in her melodious voice. She was the girl who went into his room in that eventful night and the cause of his defeat. Manding like a true gentleman just smiled and bowed as he offered her a toast. She did the same, and afterwards she left, saying, “Hope you have a happy trip home”.
The delegation returned home and although Manding remained a champion for a while, he learned a lesson that in any game there are many devious ways to defeat an opponent”. Manding should know for he was the unwitting victim of “devious game”
