MANILA, Philippines - We were warned. It’s a long journey on a red-eye flight to Manila.
So we braced to endure a long trip literally to our past, back to the heartland that brought thousand years of Spanish colonial rule and the residue of our glory years in international basketball.
It’s a long journey to Sevilla, Spain for the FIBA World Cup. And we’re warned – the entourage of 38 made up of PBA govs and their wives, a slew of sports editors and some guests.
We were warned. You would feel the time grinding in some coffee shop of a state -of-the art terminal in some gateway to the Middle East; count the stars in a mocked-up constellation posted on the ceiling in the cabins of an aircraft, catch up on oldies of classic films on inflight sked, like some six movies.
Be wary of gypsies quick with wits and picks in the pockets in some dread-gray train station, steal some naps though futile on the drab looking seats on the couches of a train bound for Andalucia, watch the sweep and swell of a landscape that varied from vineyards, drylands, farms and small towns.
Then suddenly, there were screechings of the wheels and final billow of the steam and we were in Sevilla! And they all piled out with their luggages, the red eyeds from the red eye flight from Manila.
We were warned. It’s a long journey. But nobody said it would take 28 hours. I’ts a long journey into the heart of Spain. Now we catch up with our trip back into the big stage of world basketball. It’s another long journey but that’s another story.