Doing a UV

CHARLES Boycott and the Earl of Sandwich are two historical figures whose names we now use in everyday language.  I now propose to add another for Cebu—UV.

As a verb, to UV (YOUvee) means to do something well, consistently, “Tom UVed in college, that’s why he got three job offers when he graduated.”

It could also mean to give everything—money, support and the kitchen sink--to push a goal, “The Cebu City government is really UVing the SRP (Wait, is there some sort of irony here?).”



It could also be taken as an adjective, “He’s a UV, that’s why he was named one of the Ten Most Outstanding Men of the Philippines.”

Now if only the Gullases and the UV admin will UV their football team…

Beating, UV, or to put it in the context of this inebriated column, doing a UV against UV seems a hard thing to do, but I offer a few suggestions for other teams--relatively cheap ways mind you--to beat ’em.

FOOD. If you can’t offer P25,000 a month to your best player, better spend P10,000 to learn what the favorite dish of each UV player is and deliver loads of them to their respective rooms the night before the finals.

GRADES.  Since Cesafi requires athletes to pass 60 percent of their subjects, rivals may contact the teachers of the UV players and tell them their exams are too easy.  They should have a special set for UV players. For English 1, they should be made to explain the complexities of Leo Tolstoy’s characters or for Math 1, they should be asked to compute the “Delta D” of the SRP underpass.

VIDEOKE.  Go get your favorite neighborhood nuisance who sings “Tu drem da imPOSSSSEEBOLLLL DRRRRREM!!!” at 3 a.m., give him a “singko ang kanta” videoke machine and plant him near the UV players’ dormitory.

RING TONES.  If their rivals can’t do the first three suggestions, then they can do this, it’s the cheapest and easiest thing to do. All it needs is coordination.  Think of the most annoying ring tone that you can, tell everyone—fans, teachers, players, janitor, tambay, scalpers, kabit sa reporter--who are in the coliseum to use that same tone, set the volume to loud and when a UV player shoots a free throw or the team calls a timeout, have someone (and this is where coordination comes) call your cell phone.

We can all work through pressure--people shouting, horns blowing, things clanging--but, when a cell phone rings, we all lose a bit of that concentration.  Imagine 5,000 cell phones ringing at the same time.

I have lots of other ideas, but I only mentioned these since all the rest involve scantily-clad women, cloning, and pirating players but things like that have no place in sports.

A DAY FOR MENTORS. Yesterday (At least, that’s what the malls say) was Teachers’ Day, and today I thank the mentors who helped me get to where I am now.  

I never had a formal training in journalism but I was lucky to have Sir Madz show me the ropes.

My grammar still sucks, but thanks to Mrs. Ampong, my elementary teacher, for the basics. (Does is a thief, he always steals the “s” of the verb). Also, to Miss Tecson, the current Chief Doll at USC’s DOLL, who made me join my first writing contest as a college freshman (and I beat the crap out of the seniors) and as a reward got a chocolate—it wasn’t made in China—for first place. 

And of course to Miss Mangco, also of USC.  An 11 a.m. appointment is too early for me now, but I was never late for Miss Mangco’s 7:45 English class.  My out-of-the-box ideas were inspired by the lovely Miss Mangco’s. In my first college English exam, she had a short story and added “you can tear out this story if you want to keep this.” Never mind if the other side contains your answers.  If teachers can do that, I can have George, Papa Joe and Manny Pacquiao’s future fight.

P.S. Grammatical errors in this column and in previous editions are mine alone, my mentors are not to blame.  This column is an ongoing struggle, I promise, I will UV this,

(mikelimpag@gmail.com)