[Icon 01] Earvin "Magic" Johnson.
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This is my first blog entry in 2008. I wanted to welcome the new year by introducing a new regular feature in my personal journal. This portion is called Icons and it will highlight people whom I have looked up to as personal heroes, or in some way shaped me, or in any manner contributed to what or how I am now. In some instances, my Icons will take the form of things or events, but still it must have some influence on me as a person. I first conceived of this in November of last year (2007 being but 2 days ago) but held off writing any featurette until this year.

I have already made a preliminary list of about ten great persons that I'd showcase here. It was great to know that the world is not short of great people who are positive influences on other people as myself. I think it is something worth celebrating in a world that is now so unreasonably preoccupied with the faux pas of personalities such as Paris Hilton, Kevin Federline, Lindsay Lohan and the like.

It was quite an impressive list I came up with. The tougher task for me was to pick the first person to inaugurate my Icons roll of honor. It was an excruciating task but I am confident that I made the right choice.

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Locked in such quagmire, I decided to solve my dilemma by relying on chronology. Among the ten equally deserving people in my list, I have decided to feature first the one I looked up to the earliest. Thus, I present my very first Icon: Earvin "Magic" Johnson.

This is how I remember my first encounter with Magic Johnson -

It was a hot Saturday afternoon of summer in 1987 and I was less than ten years old. It was scorching outside and I was forced to spend my day indoors. I got tired of playing with my GI Joes (which was then only about 5 pieces) and decided to open the television set in my room upstairs. Although I was hoping to catch some cartoons, I knew that my chances were nil. It was Saturday afternoon, as I said, and I was most likely to catch a tearjerker show.

Still, I needed something to spend my idle time on. So I channel-surfed, which back then wasn't an easy task to do. I had to stand from my bed, go to the TV lying on its rack and use the knob to actually switch from one channel to the next. As I flicked from one station to the next, a dazzling image instantly caught my attention: a black man in yellow jersey very ably dribbling a ball, quickly, low, between his legs and then lifting the ball with his right hand and with a flicker of his right hand shot it from his back to his teammate who was running on his left wing. The teammate scored an easy lay-up and there was pandemonium in the audience.

The black guy was, of course, Magic Johnson, it was an NBA game shown in the U.S. some one or two months before and because cable has not hit the country, was broadcasted in the Philippines only then, and it was the first basketball game I have ever enjoyed watching.

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Ten years old and I have never seen a magic trick performed in my presence ever before. I came from a low-middle class family and I have never been invited to a children's party where the celebrator's parents could afford a magician. That afternoon, that NBA game, that pass was the first magic trick I have ever seen in my entire life.
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I stopped my channel surfing and glued in to that game. I was anxious to see more magic. I was eager to see that same black guy get the ball again and perform another trick. Alas, it was already the fourth quarter and the game was nearing its end. There were slamdunks and mad scramble for the ball that followed, but no play was as spectacular as the behind-the-back pass by Magic, whether from him or any other of the players on the court.

I do not now remember the team that the Lakers played against that day. Or whether the Lakers won or lost. What I do distinctly remember is that from then on I religiously set 2 o'clock on Saturday afternoons as NBA watching time. Everytime I opened the TV I prayed to see Magic and the Lakers. It was a series of brief periodic joys and disappointments.

The second thing I remember from that experience is that I decided to pick up the basketball and decided to learn to game. My brother was an avid basketball player, most times he would take his ball with him to play with his friends around the block. We had our own ring in the backyard and I was homebuddy. Shortly, I convinced my mother to buy me my own ball. She complied and bought me one. The brand, as I still remember, was Michael and it was one of my most precious possessions in youth.

Every afternoon, after school and before I even did my assignments, I would play in our backyard for two to four hours straight. I would mime the moves of Magic Johnson. I practiced his behind-the-back passes and wrap-around lay-ups. I convinced myself that I would grow to six feet one 1/2 inches tall and would be the first tall pointguard in the country (pointguards in the pro league then stood between 5'6" to 5'10") just as Magic was the first and most prominent prolific tall pointguard in the NBA. I rehearsed my dribbling, passing, shooting ---all in the style of Magic Johnson as I saw him do on TV. Later on, I made it my dream to be the pointguard tandem of Alvin Patrimonio, just as Magic had Kareem Abdul-Jabbar by his side.

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When I eventually did play basketball with friends and classmates, I was always the designated pointguard. I was quite instinctive in play. My jumpshots were sharp and on target but as pointguard, my priority was always to set up my teammates, find the open person and make the pass. I would only shoot or drive as a last resort. I tried one-on-one plays on offense, with my back behind the board ---just as Magic would do during his match-ups with Larry Bird--- but it was not as effective. I did not get to the height I dreamed of.
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More than mimicking Magic, I imbibed his style of play. I aped his selflessness and never lost my cool during a game. I always considered it at just a game and never bore any grudge against my opponents even though being quite small, I was always elbowed out on rebounds. Win or lose, I was just glad to have played the game. And it never mattered to me how much I scored or how great I looked with the ball in my hand, what kept me going was the teamwork that our team was able to muster and display.

Now I consider myself to have been blest to have the opportunity to watch Magic, Bird and Michael Jordan at the height of NBA's showtime era. It was the best period for the league. Not only were there spectacular plays; the players who made the play were just as great. Something one can't say about the league since John Stockton retired. Today's generation of NBA fanatics are not as blessed to watch the game at its finest.

Until this day, long after Magic Johnson has retired and earned his five NBA championship rings, I still consider him as one of my idols. And whenever I pick up a basketball or actually play the game, I am always reminded of that lazy Saturday afternoon when I first saw magic played before my eyes.

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Time to Wash My Levi's. As I usher in the new year, my first order of business is to have my Levi's 514 washed. I bought the pair as a Christmas present for myself in 2006. I have worn it about 50 times from December 2006 until December of 2007 but it has never been washed. It is my way of breaking it in and giving it a vintage look.

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After a year of being deprived of soap and water, I think it is time to shove it down our washing machine. Better do it now before it smells funky. There is a very fine line between dressing vintage and looking like a hobo.

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And speaking of the Los Angeles Lakers, one of the best gifts I received during the past Christmas is this Adidas Superstar 1 sneakers with the LA Lakers jersey/logo design. I spent more than a month looking for my size. Luckily, on the eve of Christmas and before the malls were about to close, Leslie (who was doing some last minute shopping and knew I was gaga over this limited edition design) was able to find the size and bought me a pair. She gave me this plus a pink and purple combination necktie that I wore to the office today.

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