Jun Cordero, Arjun’s father, never finished college. From his roots in Legazpi, where he discovered basketball rather late in the day, he became a company ballplayer, then tried his hand at working overseas.
"You know, in Saudi, there aren’t really that many good players," Jun chuckles in his sparse but cozy living room in Caloocan. "So I did quite well."
Coming home and settling down as the 1980’s rolled in, Cordero tried his hand at becoming a referee. At least he would still be connected with the sport. And, as his family started to grow, he dreamed of having a son who would reach heights he never did. A son who would become a basketball player.
"I was so happy when my eldest son, Bjorn, was born," he confesses. "At last, I thought, I would have a son who would finish college like I never did, and become a basketball player, reaching places I never reached."
Bjorn, now a mechanical engineer, showed true potential. Neighborhood teams would show up at the humble Cordero home and "borrow" him for neighborhood and barangay leagues. Soon, though, that would change.
"I really thought Bjorn was it," Cordero admits. "Soon, though, Arjun started outgrowing him. Then, when the neighborhood boys would come over, I’d yell for Bjorn. But now they’d say "No, Mang Jun, we don’t want Bjorn. It’s Arjun we want."
That trend persisted. Arjun became a star at Notre Dame in high school, then went on to San Beda, where he has become a do-it-all starter for new coach Jonathan Reyes. "With a ferocity born of some unfathomable persistence, Cordero kept the dismally overmatched Red Lions in the thick of games. But why the serious game face?
"I don’t want my daddy to referee anymore," Arjun says adamantly. "I used to watch his games, and he’s a good referee. But I couldn’t stand the way people cursed him, and the way the players treated him, like he was nothing. I vowed to be the one to work so he would never go through that anymore."
And work hard he did. Thanks to his athletic scholarship, Arjun no longer burdens his family with his tuition. And his father feels his son’s concern.
"I feel like a thorn was taken out of my side when Arjun became a scholar," Jun reveals. "Basketball has really helped me a lot. Imagine me being able to put my sons through college by being a mere referee. But in terms of basketball, there’s not much more I can teach Arjun. He already knows more than I did!"
In another year or two, Arjun will likely turn pro, completing his father’s dream. And both realize he will have to change his game drastically to make it into the pros. No more incessant driving into the paint; he will have to learn to shoot from the outside. And he will have to bulk up.
"And I also tell him to show respect for the referees," the elder Cordero reminds his son. "I tell him, don’t ever argue with the referees. It’s almost as if you are fighting with me."
The Christmas tree rises early in the Cordero domicile. Arjun insists that his father put it up before his birthday on November 4. So, after the November 1 holidays, up goes the tree. And Jun will have a lot more time to spend watching over his son, and seeing him turn into a man.
Thanks to his son’s love.
You may reach me at bill_velasco@hotmail.com or thebasketballshow@yahoo.com