Blue or Green? That is the question

I first heard about the rivalry between Ateneo and LA SALLE  through my eldest sister Ling; it must have been in the mid-50s when I was old enough to play with a mini-basketball, but too young to understand the big fuss over the rivalry between the two exclusive schools. Ling was a fan of the blue-and-white, Hail Mary team. While listening to the radio coverage of the games, she cheered for Ateneo and Ed Ocampo particularly, the team’s outstanding guard then. Her ears were glued to the radio set, listening to a broadcaster named Bobby Ng describing the game play-by-play, in good, straight English. She did attend the big games at the Rizal Memorial Stadium, most probably with my elder brother, until the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association) games were covered on TV.

My memory of the early TV coverage of the NCAA games is of Green Archer Kurt Bach-mann’s mom brandishing her umbrella from the courtside. I don’t remember now what for. Kurt Bachmann must have been embarrassed by his mom’s display of motherly concern.

The funny thing is that when I was in Ateneo, my sister could not care less about the Ateneo-La Salle games. I guess she matured and got over that stage of idolatry. But a lot of adults, especially alumni of either school, seem not to have outgrown the rivalry which continued when the two schools moved to the UAAP (University Athletic Association of the Philippines). Atenean Richard Gordon, former cheerleader and now a Senator, is a common fixture during a La Salle-Ateneo game. Lasallian Mike Enriquez, popular broadcaster, plays his alma mater’s hymn in his morning program during championship games. The old alumni of these arch rivals continue still to cheer for their teams, competing for bragging rights of being champions.

I confess that I was never fond of basketball games even when I was in college. I did try out to be a cheerleader of the Blue Babble Battalion because I was attracted by the blue-and-white jacket, but I did not make it to the clique. I must have attended two games in my college life; three max. Okay, I was a nerd.

What’s the big fuss? The press is partly to blame. Whenever there’s a game between Ateneo and La Salle, it is always bannered as the encounter between arch rivals, a long, unending rivalry that can be traced to the pre-World War II period. The management of the Araneta Coliseum must love it. The venue will surely be filled to the rafters.  The attendance of around 20,000 is close to the population of the two schools. The UAAP board loves it; an Ateneo-La Salle game means a multi-million-peso encounter. It’s crazy to raise the question at all.

Before I continue writing this piece, a full disclosure is appropriate – I finished my undergraduate degree at the Ateneo (notice “the”; it’s not enough just to say Ateneo). I’m a bona fide alumnus, but not a blue-blooded Atenean, if you ask the likes of Mike Arroyo, for the FG, blue-blooded Ateneans are those who finished their primary and secondary levels at the Ateneo.

I’m not an alumnus of La Salle, but I’ve taught there for a little over 24 years, so I’ve developed some loyalty to this school on Taft. Which side am I on? That’s the question.

Through the years, the rivalry in sports had become heated, and it extended to other fields, like academics and debate. Man for man (and woman for woman, when the two schools became co-ed in the ‘70s), the two schools can match the other school’s leading alumni. Until Ateneo becomes exasperated with the exercise and drops the name of Jose Rizal. That stops the conversation. Lasallians would just say that “Rizal had no choice then; La Salle was established in 1911. If Rizal were born at the turn of the century….”

Ateneo and La Salle were very exclusive schools, especially before the 60s. I remember a cousin who passed the entrance exams at La Salle but failed the ocular visit to their house made by a representative of the school. My cousin’s family lived in an apartment in La Loma, Quezon City. My cousin should have checked the family names of La Salle alumni then. To make a long story short, he enrolled in San Beda instead.

In the 60s, more scholars from both public and private schools invaded the august halls of Ateneo and La Salle and both schools had become less aristocratic. That was how I came to the Ateneo. Soon, the coño boys became an endangered species until the 80s when both schools became more bakya; the coño boys became totally extinct. (I think they moved to the University of Asia and the Pacific.)

Lasallians would argue that Ateneans are more bakya. Need I name names like Boy Abunda and Kris Aquino? But, actually, alumni or near-alumni of either school have invaded the entertainment industry, showing that they are bakya-at-heart. I’m using the word bakya not as a word of derision, but just a word of fact. More and more Ateneans and Lasallians have embraced the hoi polloi by being entertainers.

Lasallians are proven Vilmanians. Two of them even sired children with the Star for All Seasons – Edu Manzano, one of the original bench boys (the students who spent their break-time, and most probably even much of their class time, at the benches in front of the gym), and Ralph Recto, former senator, who is instrumental in guiding the political career of Vilma. Are Ateneans closet Noranians? I don’t know. But Lotlot’s daughter is in Ateneo.        

If Ateneans would only profess their being Noranians. Boy Abunda and Kris Aquino would have had a grand time during their Ateneo days. A college version of The Buzz would have been a weekly event, either at the covered courts or at the courtyard formed by Kostka, Berchman, and what used to be the Science Building. Boy Abunda would have held a mirror, taken from one of the comfort rooms, in the face of the guest Superstar’––“Ate Guy, what do you want to tell this little girl from Iriga, who used to sell ‘samalamig’ at the train station, who is now an idol of Ateneans?”

After all is said and done, Ateneans and Lasallians love each other. Before the attack of the coeds in the 70s, how can one explain the Ateneans’ love for Maryknollers, their kapitbahay at Loyola? And the Lasallians’ love for the Kulasas (from St. Scholastica)? After some meditation, I found the answer. It’s the skirt. Maryknollers’ uniform is green and white; St. Scholasticans’ is blue and white. The attraction to the official color of the competitor is a deep-seated love for the other.

La Salle and Ateneo are two illustrious schools. They have produced leading professionals in various fields, artists, and national leaders. But neither school has produced a President. Erap Estrada would have been the first Atenean President, but being an Ateneo drop-out doesn’t count. Raul Manglapus tried to be President, but his Arnneow accent got in the way. The masa could not connect with his “I Speak for Democracy” – kind of English. La Salle’s Jose W. Diokno was “the President we never had,” according to sociologist and political commentator Randy David. Remember Diokno’s challenge, “Why be honest when it pays to be dishonest?”

The closest Ateneo got to the presidency was by being the First Gentleman. We all know now that the FG is more of a handicap than an inspiration to the President. If a bona fide Lasallian can’t be President, being the First Gentleman is the only way to get control of that seat. Vilmanian Ralph Recto is a candidate to this position.

But back to the question, Which side am I on? I’m in a win-win situation. But that’s no fun when watching a basketball game. One must side with one team during a game, especially a championship game; you can’t enjoy the game by being safe. So, did I cheer for La Salle or Ateneo? Let me put it this was – I was more sad than happy at the end of this year’s championship game. I won, but I also lost – big time.