Hooked

From superstar to reserve

The lights are at its brightest, men frolic to the stage as the music hits with the volume at its highest. The star steps into the light drowned by deafening silence. This is what we’ve been waiting for. This is what we’ve come to see.

Somewhere backstage a not so old yet not entirely youthful hand cradles spirits enclosed within a bottle. Cigarette smoke fills the air as her mascara runs down her cheeks with tears. She had her time on the stage. They used to cherish her.

Worshipped her. Loved her.

The day.

It comes in lucid, short flashes but she remembers. How long ago was it?

Not so long.

It was a good day, that day in 2005. The first year was rough, but nothing she hasn’t been prepared for. She has always been a star among her friends, a cut above the rest. She was special, or, had a specialty. Even then they would hail her and laud her actions. It didn’t take long for her to be embraced by the masses. She belonged on stage with the best and brightest. She was a star.

But things changed in 2010 like they always do. She was sent elsewhere to draw people to an upstart establishment that her patrons were putting together. It was a struggle to put people on seats. Still she shone, but not as brightly as before.

Or did she?

She still shone. But her light was lost in the distance. They were back at her old abode, cheering and loving someone else. She was replaceable, like all things on this world.

The day finally came when slowly her minutes on stage were being trimmed, cut and took for granted. She was special they would tell her repeatedly—special, but sparingly used.

Others started to shine in the limelight she helped build. She didn’t complain, nothing was heard of her. In the few minutes given her she would simply do what she has always done and nothing less. But change was undeniable. The rhythm, the music was not hers to dance to.

They brought a new one just the other day, of equal stature but with seemingly more to offer. The new one danced to the music that escapes her. The new one was set to shine brighter under the old stage but new music.

She was happy. She truly was.

She’s being paid, though not as much as before, for a lesser role of little to no importance to an establishment she helped build if not built with her own grace.

But she also understood the business and how it was played.

Now she’s received word that she’s finally coming home.

Where she is among friends.

Where she is loved.

Author's note about the inspiration behind this entry: MacMac Cardona is a 6”1 shooting guard that averaged 12.12 points, 3.63 rebounds and 1.60 assists for the Meralco Bolts in 43 games played this 2012-2013 season which saw his minutes go down to as few as 13- (and some DNPs). Prior to this year, Cardona is a career 16.33 points in 30.1 minutes per game scorer.