Ren-ren Ritualo started the game very young. In a rare interview, father Florendo Ritualo, Sr., tells a remarkable tale.
"When he started walking, we knew he would love basketball," the former pro said. "When he was very young, he asked me to buy so many balls. But when he got to high school–well, he was really good."
The younger Ritualo would carve a deep niche in amateur basketball, first with San Beda high school, then an amazing run of four UAAP titles with De La Salle University. All the while, his father’s quiet guidance has been a steadying hand.
"It really helps bring us closer," adds the sophomore FedEx guard. "It’s our common interest, and he’s been where I’m going. So we have so much to share."
"He already knows everything," father demurs. "I just give him reminders. As a father, I’m very happy."
Meanwhile, burly Billy Mamaril is starting his own career as a center for the Purefoods Hotdogs. His father, Romulo, became an unlikely star when he shifted from the defunct Crispa Redmanizers to the fiery Ginebra franchise. Billy remembers playing in their garage in Bulacan as a toddler. Father and son were separated for a time when Billy and the rest of the family went to the US.
"I went to the States when I was ten years old," Billy recalls. "I knew when I went that I would eventually come back and play. The other year I came here and then seeing other guys come here and become so successful, and I just wanted to try it."
"Of course, I’m very, very happy that, when I left the game, he came along," Romy admits. I just tell him not to be too hot-headed on the court."
"My Dad tries to give me support and advise about basketball, so I guess he’s trying to be there, so I won’t stray to the bad side of it. He’s just trying to give me focus on the game and where I’m going."
In a galaxy of stars, Freddie Hubalde was a quiet nova. In Crispa’s heyday, Atoy Co, Philip Cezar, Abet Guidaben, Bogs Adornado and Bernie Fabiosa were all ensconced as Most Valuable Player. So was Hubalde. Now, three of his sons are proudly carrying his name in college basketball.
"We’re proud to be carrying his name," admits Derick, who plays guard for the UST Growling Tigers. "People’s expectations were very high, but we know that. Whatever happens, we’re glad to be carrying the name Hubalde."
Arjun Cordero’s story is different. The do-it-all San Beda forward longed to take his father away from the hostile environment of his job. You see, although Jun Cordero was a decent player, he gained more recognition as a PBA referee. The younger Cordero grew up seeing his father catching brickbats and expletives from angry crowds, never talking back.
"It hurt, seeing people screaming at my Papa, cursing him," Arjun recalls. "And I knew he wanted one of us to become a player. So I told him, let me be the one to support the family. We’re very lucky that my education is free, and I get to earn from basketball."
"The one thing I told him," adds a beaming Jun Cordero, "is never to argue with the referees. If he does that, it would be as if he hurt me himself. Thank God, I have a very good son."
Even though sons are proof of their fathers’ immortality, they are also reminders that, wherever we come from, we each still have to carve our own path. Belated Happy Father’s Day.