Rufus on Fil-Ams - SPORTING CHANCE by Joaquin M. Henson

The other night, former Bureau of Immigration (BI) Commissioner Rufus Rodriguez played tennis at the Manila Hotel courts. He hadn’t swung a racket in a few months but looked sharp firing shots from the baseline.

Rodriguez, of course, lost his job when President Arroyo took over Malacañang. During his term, Rodriguez was in the middle of the Fil-Am controversy that haunted the Philippine Basketball Association (PBA).

Under PBA rules, a Fil-Am or Fil-foreigner is eligible to play as a local only if his Filipino parent was still a Filipino meaning, not yet naturalized at the time of his birth. The PBA requires Fil-Am player applicants to secure a BI endorsement then a Department of Justice (DOJ) confirmation.

The PBA, as an independent league, could’ve dispensed with the BI endorsement and the DOJ confirmation but didn’t because it wanted to follow immigration rules concerning the constitutional rights of so-called Fil-foreigners or Filipinos born abroad or those carrying foreign passports.

In the Metropolitan Basketball Association (MBA), the rule isn’t as strict. To be eligible as locals in the MBA, Fil-foreigners are required to submit only work permits issued by the Department of Labor and Employment the same permits issued to imports.

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Rodriguez, a former Dean of the San Sebastian College law school, put Fil-Am applicants through the wringer to find out who were legitimate and who weren’t. The fakes felt the heat of Rodriguez’ crackdown and one by one, left in shame Rob Parker, Al Segova, Sonny Alvarado, and Asi Taulava.

"I felt bad for the PBA because some of the big crowd-drawers pulled out but rules are rules, and it was our duty to enforce the law," said Rodriguez.

The clean-up preserved the integrity of the league and in the end, that was the more important consideration. It discouraged more fakes from trying to enter the league and reestablished the legitimacy of the real Fil-Ams like the Seigle brothers, Ali Peek, Noy Castillo, Chris Jackson, Jon Ordonio, William Antonio, James Walkvist, and others. Moreover, it led to the arrival of more legitimate discoveries like John Arigo and Kenny Evans.

As for Taulava’s claim to Filipino heritage, Rodriguez said he’s not convinced. "All his documents point to only one thing that he and his mother are Tongans," noted Rodriguez.

But Eric Menk’s case is different, continued Rodriguez. "We endorsed Menk because his mother is a full-blooded Filipina," he said. "But the DOJ wouldn’t confirm it because his mother was naturalized two years before Menk was born."

Rodriguez said there were two pending bills in Congress he hopes will pass. The first will allow Filipino naturalized citizens abroad and their children to enjoy the privileges of a local. The second will grant Filipino citizenship to Chinese born here to Chinese parents.

"In the first bill, the idea is to encourage Filipinos abroad including those naturalized to invest here, to bring wealth back to the home country," explained Rodriguez. "If it passes, then Menk will be automatically eligible to play as a local."

Rodriguez said since leaving the Bureau two months ago, his blood pressure has gone down and his sugar has stabilized. He’s lost about five pounds, revised his two law books, and enjoyed the extra hours with his family, particularly his six-year-old daughter who’s an only child. Still, Rodriguez confessed that he misses the pressure of work.

"I miss the 10-hour work days," he admitted.

At the height of Fil-Am controversy, there was talk that Rodriguez was grandstanding to generate media mileage for a possible shot at the Senate. But Rodriguez swore he had no hidden agenda. If skeptics didn’t believe him then, they believe him now. Rodriguez isn’t a candidate in the May elections.

In June, Rodriguez will be back teaching law as a full-time professor at San Sebastian.

An upside to this turn of events is Rodriguez now has the time to watch the PBA games at the coliseum.

"My daughter’s a big fan and so am I," he said smiling.