THE TITAN X iCANSERVE 'HOLD STEADY' TEE

When I was asked to design a shirt for iCanServe - a breast cancer awareness foundation, I was more than happy to oblige.

A DAY IN THE LIFE, Vol. "TO THE GREATEST EVER..."

My parents often told stories of how they barely had anything when they started a family. When I came along, my folks had to hustle real hard just to keep things afloat... Especially my dad. My old man had to sacrifice a lot of himself just to give his family a good life.

Looking at us now, we have come a long way. We are now living like kings in our own little kingdom. Every single comfort that I'm enjoying right now, I owe it to my father.

I thank him for being a man for his family, a good father, a loyal husband, a gangster and a hustler... And since he's an OG and the best ever, I broke these out the other night for his birthday dinner.

Here's to you, pops! Happy birthday! Cheers!



A day in the life.

*   *   *

A DAY IN THE LIFE, Vol. "AEGIS"

Wow! It's been a while. Hope you folks are doing good!

Anyway, yesterday I was invited by my good friend and #SwooshFam Jino for a quick meeting over at the Nike Ph headquarters.

A DAY IN THE LIFE, Vol. "JEFF STAPLE IN MANILA"

While having dinner last Sunday, I told my parents about Jeff Staple's trip to Manila. I told them about the talk he gave - how he dealt with his personal obstacles, his addiction to "work", and his relentless pursuit of success. Over Japanese food, of all things, I told them about the compelling story of "The Sword Maker" - my favorite part of the talk.

I told my parents how "happiness" was his main motivation for pursuing his multi-disciplinary job. "Life sucks...", I told them quoting Jeff, "So just do what makes you happy". Both my folks nodded with approval, replete with comforting smiles on their faces.

I hate to turn this "Jeff Staple Live In Manila" post into an entry of self-indulgence, but I was relieved to see that look on my parents' faces. I was happy - no, more like thankful that they gave me that acknowledgement. I've been practicing architecture for a good 5 years, and just like Jeff, I jumped on the chance to pursue something that, unconsciously, is actually my life's passion. Some people know about this shift - and I think those select few are happy that I am finally living my dream.

As far as my government ID is concerned, I am still a licenced Architect, and most likely will be one for the rest of my life. But on a daily, I now chase dreams and do dope shit for a living... And I can't help but be thankful to my parents who are all out with their support over my switching career lanes.

I remember my folks saying finding happiness and making it ones 9-to-5 is something most people struggle with through out their lives. They said I was lucky I found it while I still had enough youth in me to enjoy it.

Golden.

That's what I got from that talk. Thanks to Jeff for affirming that idea. For telling people that it can be done. That you can have dreaming as a hobby, and making it happen as a job.

Thank you Ian and WIP Caps for making this event possible! I've been picking this dude's brain via YouTube for as long as I can remember, I didn't think I would physically be part of this experience. Thank you for real.

Props to Sarah and Banjo for hosting the event. Shouts to Nix for providing the music. Shouts to everyone that was there: Archiebolz, B-Roc, Mark Legendary, Martin Solemovement, JC, Notti, Christel and Julo of the UNSCHLD fam, Jose and George of SCRT SRVC. Shouts to Sassa Jimenez and her killer shoes. Shouts to Sudan The Player. Shouts to the STNDRDS crew. Shouts to Rjay Lionheart who is about to drop his birthday capsule collection this Friday (more about that later).

I am sorry for being selfish. I was more into digesting the talk than documenting it, hence the photos - or lack thereof. I was not able to take a photo with the man either. I didn't even make an effort to ask him... I dunno, but something tells me that we will meet again.

But for now, thanks Jeff!

"There are no directions or formulas left to make ancient swords."

P.S.

DT and I had this conversation over lunch one day. I just had to share it with you: 

Kids, I know Jeff ditched the whole Business Plan process when he started out, but that does not mean you should too. What was good for him does not necessarily mean that it will be the same for you. Do your homework and embrace the process.

Just saying. :)

On with the photos.

TITAN X LOCKER ROOM LEGENDS | GOLD MEDAL PACK

At exactly 12:00AM this morning, Titan announced another banger of a drop. Titan Players Club members were given the opportunity to secure via e-mail their very own pair of either the Gold Medal Kobe 7s or the Gold Medal Hyperdunk 2012s (Just in case you are wondering where the KDs are at: A different set of mechanics will be provided for the Gold Medal KD 4s - to be released any moment now).

Unfortunately, the list is already closed. I hope you did not turn in early last night!

But don't stress, Titan's got love for everyone. The Gold Medal Kobe 7s and Gold Medal Hyperdunk 2012s will still be available to the public on a first come, first served basis. They are dropping TODAY, by the way.

On a personal note, it is with great pride and honor that we present to you a series of artworks we did with and for the Lightning fam. A real goosebumps moment when there's that X in between Titan and Locker Room Legends.

THE SEPTEMBER ISSUE

Happy birthday to the sexiest and most beautiful supermodel in the world!
I know it's not your best photo, but you and Cess look mad cute in this one...

Haha! I'm kidding! I love you, Dear... And happy birthday!

///_^

THE WISE OWL

THE HIGHEST DEGREE OF THE ORDER

PATRIOT.

KANYE WEST

FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT

JUNE 8

HELEN OF TROY

CINDERELLA MAN

Exactly 10 years ago I was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma - a highly malignant type of bone cancer. It threatened to take away everything from me; from rudimentary movements like rotating my wrist or shooting free throws to something more valuable - like my life.

I was a very athletic kid and basketball was my life. Around that time I was also deep into boxing and jiujitsu, and between all that I dabbled in kart racing. I took all those seriously, like a religion. I was 14 then.

I can't really recall the exact moment of trauma but somewhere in between my car crash during a routine practice and a hairline fracture I suffered from a spar, my wrist got busted so bad that it developed a lump. I was big on self-medicating my injuries so I thought the growth was just my bone repairing itself. Oh sure, it did heal on its own... But the thing is, no one told it to stop. It never worried me one bit though. I always believed I was invincible.

It was irritating at first; just a nagging sting whenever I threw a hook. A few weeks later, it was starting to be a burden. It grew and grew until something as simple as bending my wrist made me cry out in agony. I stopped boxing soon after that. A week later I turned my back on jiujitsu. Kart Racing quickly followed in the list of things I had to give up. I never suited up again. I was left with basketball, but when I realized I could no longer lift the ball above my chest for a simple jumper, I had to give that up too.

My parents knew that my threshold for pain was uncanny. After years of seeing their boy banged up from basketball, mixed martial arts, football, and every sport in between, they'd grown accustomed to me brushing off injuries. It was not until that summer that I saw genuine fear in them. Their son had a freakish growth on his arm, and could barely sleep because of the pain.

I assumed putting the injury in a cast would solve everything. It was a small price to pay. But when the doctors saw the x-ray, a cast was the last thing on their mind. It was not even an option. I went through a series of tests culminating with a bone biopsy. I still believe to this very day that it is the single most painful thing a human being can endure without losing his wits. I shit you not. What they did was they punched a steel syringe as thick as a juice-box straw into my skin, drilled it by hand through my bone, then extracted a good chunk of bone sample from the suspected area.

We got word on a hot and sunny afternoon; it was April 15, 2002. I was the last one in my family who fully understood the gravity of the situation. My mother cried immediately, my father tried to talk to our doctors and negotiate us out of it as if cancer was just a bad business venture. The doctors told me I had cancer. They told me it had enough evil in it to kill me at any moment. The once indestructible kid was now terminally ill. I was 16.

I never did question God on the matter. I guess I was already empty. I already surrendered myself to Him. I can barely recall the ride home. The voice of my doctor echoed endlessly in my head. I had to go thru chemotherapy. Fine, I said to myself, I can deal with chemo... But what brought my world down was the impending scenario of an amputation. It was the best possible option to save what remained of me, the doctors said.

There is nothing more frightening than losing something you have always just taken for granted. Doing a crossover, opening a bottle of beer, holding your girl, cradling your baby brother... Those simple pleasures that I never really bothered to appreciate were suddenly in danger of becoming just a memory.

A few days later, I found myself in good spirits. I had a good talk with my folks, I gave them my word that I would never give up nor give in no matter how painful things got.

Chemotherapy is not cool. It's the ultimate mental and physical torture. It purifies your body with pain. It will punish the evil inside you with no regard to your comfort nor well-being. A battery of hell-like sessions went on for three days straight, every three weeks. Six 5-inch needles were inserted on my right hand, intravenously feeding my body with a thick syrupy substance three times a day. They said it was my medication. For me it was death in liquid form.

In between sessions, I attended school. De La Salle Zobel was kind enough to extend every possible comfort that a student with my condition might need; special exams, free passes, study-from-home, on-call medical attention... But I was having none of that. I told them, no way I am letting cancer run my life. I would go to school like a regular student, do the same work that all my classmates were supposed to do. No special treatment. No perks. I hated being sick, and even more so letting people know that I was.

My parents and my team of doctors gave stern instructions for me to wear a mask at all times, in any given situation. Stubborn me. I would drive myself to school with the mask on but once inside the campus I would take it off. My game plan was to trick my body into thinking that it was healthy.


People who know me, as some of you do, recognize that I am an intense competitor. Cancer messed with the wrong kid. I was bound to kill my killer.

I had to deal with minor adjustments in my life - a bald head, wearing my watch on my right arm, not lifting heavy loads with my bum hand... But nothing was more painful than quitting sports. I was not allowed to play, let alone try out for any varsity team. Even when I was deep into my college years, I was not allowed to hoop or box. I went to try outs secretly against my family's strict instructions. There are just some things that I can't live without. My not being allowed to play ball is a fate worse than cancer.

The inevitable came. An operation was set to extract my tumor. I was hopeful for the best, yet I'd accepted my fate as a potential one-armed bandit. I guess it's pretty obvious how that went. By the mercy of God I still got both hands. The brilliance of my doctors made the miracle possible. Lead by one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the Philippines Dr. Rafael Claudio and equally brilliant oncologist Dr. Agnes Gorospe, the medical teams of St. Luke's Medical Center and Philippine Orthopedic Center gave me a new lease on life. I am eternally grateful for their genius and love. My tumor was only the third recorded case of Osteosarcoma on the distal ulna in the history of Philippine medicine. Top orthopedic surgeons were quick to get involved in my case. In retrospect, I was lucky to have a rare type of cancer.

A year later I got accepted to UST's esteemed College of Architecture. My dream school. I wanted to be an architect so bad... A profession that clearly needed two able hands to practice. I couldn't help but feel that God truly had a big plan for me.

I went on to accomplish my school work even though I was high on chemo drugs. I had extra-curricular gigs, I got good grades, and graduated high school on time! People saw me as an inspiration... But all I did was dedicate myself to what was necessary, to what was right.

I know there is no medical proof to this, but I believe that the human body has the capability to heal itself... no matter what the ailment. The trick is to start the healing from within oneself; spiritually, then mentally. One should have a mindset that is relentlessly positive, coupled with a tenacious will for victory. The feeling will go well beyond hope; more like a really strong force - more like faith. 

Sheesh... I think I've said too much already. 

I guess what I am trying to say here is that life, as the cliche goes, is short. But that does not mean you should go YOLO. You should live life with purpose, with passion, and with integrity. Life is already short as it is, don't spend it flirting with stupidity. Make life better for yourself and others. I am not saying you should not make mistakes, that is straight up impossible. Matter of fact, I encourage you to get into trouble... but make sure you learn from it.

Like the supposedly unsinkable Titanic, never assume you are strong, unfuckwithable, and invincible. I thought I was, till life showed me what's up. 

Don't just make love... Make love last. Always give what is right, and not what is left. Never let a day pass without showing people that they are loved. Invest yourself in everything that is important in life - because when life finally blows its buzzer on you, these things will remind people of how great you were.

On the other hand, if you know anyone waging war against this crippling disease, make it a point to give them your support and let them know you got their back. Pray for them constantly. You have no idea how powerful love is against insurmountable odds. It has the power to turn the tide of the direst of situations.

I wrote this on the exact day I was expected to leave life. In a couple of hours, I will play basketball with my friends. In a few minutes, I will hear mass and I will wrap my arms around my family. 

Ten years ago, around this time, I was wishing for those things... Now here I am, telling you I'm about to do them.

God is good, even to people like me. Especially to people like me.

Ten years later, by the grace of God, I am still here. Best believe I will make it count.

With strength and honor.

FADE TO BLACK.

If you are familiar with Jay-Z, then call this my Black Album.

There are 3 things I want to share:

///First.
As soon as I can open my eyes, my father has been encouraging me to watch basketball... And not just basketball... but LAKERS showtime basketball.

My first vivid memory of a great basketball game was way back 1991. It was the Bulls visiting the Lakers. The finals. I think that was game 1... I was 6, and my Dad, a die-hard Laker, was urging me to root for Magic and the showtime squad. I admired Magic, more so now because I mostly play point - but that Jordan guy was very, very hard to hate.

I didn't want to be like Mike... Because Magic, then and even now, is my only peg of a great basketball player. But as a kid growing up in a Laker household, I felt really guilty for being a Jordan fan. I felt awful coveting those black and red shoes that Mike had on... With the Porsche-like spoiler... And clear bottoms. I didn't know what they were called back then... All I knew was they were beautiful.

But at some point I realized, with the help of my Laker-loving family, that what I was feeling was not anything negative - rather a deeper sense of respect for the game.

And so, very much like Magic's beautiful game, Mike in these shoes were instrumental in birthing my love for basketball.

///Second.

I wouldn't call this my retirement... Because no one really does.

All it is is a conscious effort to end the days when I'd come home with 10 pairs of limiteds in the trunk of my car after just one night, or doubling up on a pair just for the heck of it, or doing something really financially stupid involving my wallet and eBay. I would still buy once in a while, a pair here, a pair there... But my "ball-so-hard" days are now behind me.

Truth be told, when all is said and done I wouldn't want to end it with copping just any pair. If I'm going out... I'm going out with a bang... switching hands in mid-air, banking it on the glass, and I would make it count.

And just like Jay-Z's ALLURE, I'll never leave this, I just can't. I don't think I can turn my back on this THING, this hobby that has made me so happy. I'm just taking a step back. I'll return... Wearing 45. I'm sure of it.

///Third.

In this game, we always put a premium on the footwear a little more than the people who wear them. Fortunately for me, I fell in the right circle. I'm pretty blessed to be with this group of people who, if I may say, are way more valuable than any pair of limiteds. You can't buy them, you can't trade them, and you can't cop them from eBay.

Clear soles yellow. Air units pop. Needless to say, shoes turn to dust. But these people, these friends... Brothers... Are all solid individuals.

Honor amongst hustlers - that is the rarest of all the grails in this culture. I am truly humbled to be in rarified AIR... In the company of great men.

Mackie Correa and Jason Tan are two of those people. These dudes gave "Presyong Kaibigan" (Friendly Price) a whole new meaning.

Mackie, thanks for hooking me up with these. And Jason, Pare, thank you for entrusting them to me. I can't thank you enough. Haha you lied tho, bro. You said they were VNDS... They seem very DS! Haha!

///

I know it's a lot to take in just from a pair of Infrared 6s. But please indulge me... I've come full circle.











What more can I say? :)

OH CRAP... IT'S VALENTINE'S

STUFF OF LEGENDS: AN OPEN LETTER

February 8, 2012


What's good Legend,

A year ago today, I got my licence to practice Architecture. And as some of you know, that should've been the end of Locker Room Legends.

You see, this blog was an experiment. You can probably say it was an accident. The product of a curious mind lacking any sense of focus, and a heart that beats for basketball, Hip-Hop and its culture.

I'm not a writer, nor a graphic artist. I don't know anything about CSS, HTML, and script codes neither. I am an Architect, and I was a student working my way to an Architecture license when I thought of The Locker Room.

My aching head that was brimming with technical info and random construction tidbits needed a distraction. I had to do something that was totally detached from Architecture...

And I found this.

It was my way of clearing my brain's palette, at the same time I wanted to contribute something worthwhile to this community that has been so good to me. Although I told my girl Cess, my close friends, as well as those who knew about the site that I'll be putting Legends down as soon as I get my license.


Locker Room Legends went online on December 21, 2010. A simple photo of MJ's iconic rookie card was our very first entry  (see "ROOKIE CARD"). I didn't think much of it then, a newb move really... But looking back, it was all aspirational. A symbol of a rookie coming up, getting off the sidelines, and working hard.

The site was inspired by the pureness of the game (straight up black and white), and the realness of the people that play it well. It is an idealistic view of a subculture that is dynamic and diverse.

My high school coach once told me that a game is not won or lost on the court, but in the locker room. In there, there are no screaming fans... No cameras... No showboating. Just the realness of the moment. A place where it is alright for a grown man to hang his head low in defeat, or pop champagne in victory.

Winning is not a fad in the locker room. There is no hype nor fiasco. Just the players, and the desire to be better.

Hence, the name. Locker Room Legends.

Like most things in life and architecture, I built Locker Room Legends from the ground up. From the chalkboard to the championships... Scripting my own codes, sketching my own graphics, "hacking" the favicon and the foot credits. With the very limited time that I had, I taught myself how to build a site. For some it may not be much, elementary even... But I'm hella proud of it.

All for love.

A post led to another; from my first event (see "LOVE AT FIRST SKATE"), to my first blogged pick-up (see "SUMTH'N LIKE A VENOMENON"), Locker Room Legends provided me with a much needed and well deserved outlet. And I think early in its run, my blog has done some good for the community and culture as a whole.

Then that day came when I finally made it and became a full fledged Architect. I was ready to shut everything down. I said my thanks... And thought Locker Room Legends has served its purpose (see "THE MOMENT AND THE VICTORY").

But something told me that the Locker Room had become so much bigger than expected. I've dedicated a huge chunk of my thoughts and myself into the blog... And with all the love that I've received from friends, especially from random people who visit the site on the regular, I just couldn't bring myself to put down something that was essentially already part of me.

But come to think of it, for a personal blog I think I have imprinted very little of myself in it. Just enough for people to know that it's by "that" dude. I was never alone in making this blog, because YOU were always in it. It's not called LEGENDS (plural) for nothing. Locker Room Legends aimed to be faceless, spontaneous and experiential. A blog that, ultimately, told our story as a culture.

And so here we are, a year later... Still blogging, still updating you with the illest that our culture has to offer, and still pretty much alive.


On that note, I want to thank the following for making Locker Room Legends what it is today:


God, first of all... For reasons too obvious and too many. By His grace, we are still here!

The OG Legends of the Locker Room: Cess, Jake, JD, Phil, Julio, Giulz, and Lizzie. #Wolfpack

Shouts to my family at NikeTalk and Team LMS. Thank you for fueling the fire!


Marc Macayan of YOURDAILYDOSEOFMARC.COM - You've represented and stood by Locker Room Legends since DAY 1... And that is something I will never forget. I don't know how to repay your dopeness, but know that I am forever grateful.


Martin David of SOLEMOVEMENT.COM - You and your work is an inspiration, brother... And you co-signing the blog is right up there in LRL's achievements. Thank you. I will definitely keep pushing LRL towards excellence to justify your faith in the blog. Once again, thank you.


Jojo Munsayac of KINGCRUX31.COM - If we're all stars in this crazy community of ours then you sir, are the big bang. SINCE 'KRUX. I am truly thankful for what you've done to make it possible for people like me to do this. Thank you for the support and the friendship.


Dennis Tan, Raoul Reinoso and everyone at TITAN - Our family from Lightning Country! You guys spear-headed everything basketball and sneakers in the Locker Room. I owe so much to you because you have fostered the Locker Room's growth, as well as supply my insatiable need for fresh kicks and basketball knowledge. For Love of The Game.


Specks of weLEGENDARY - My man! The Locker Room's cool distant cousin. A brother from another mother! We may not share the same sport... But heck, we share the same passion. And for that, wL holds a dear and sweet spot in the Locker Room... And my shoe rack! Here's to you brother!


THE BOYS OF PEREA x UNSCHLD - Some of you may already know this, I grew up (literally) with the boys from UNSCHLD! We went to the same grade school and high school, hung with the same people, have played in the same summer league... Generally, we've been friends for as long as we've been alive (well, almost).

We've come a looong ways from Perea, and we've been both hustlin' our way to the top. Watch the throne. Thank you for helping Locker Room Legends BOOK IT!

Jen of CONVERSE, Miss Mae of NIKE, and everyone at OGILVY - I am beyond proud to be associated with your team, and truly overjoyed that you have trusted our humble site to carry and promote your products. With the warmest of thoughts, I thank you.

B-Roc of SOULFIESTA.COM - The silence would be deafening in the Locker Room if it weren't for you brother! Thank you. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for the friendship, and the music.


TO ALL THE LEGENDS - On facebook, twitter, and all over. You are LOCKER ROOM LEGENDS. We would be nothing without you. You are too many to mention by name, but each and everyone of you are deeply appreciated. Thank you for the constant love and inspiration. I will do my bestest to keep my end of the deal, to keep the realness and freshness of the blog. I will continue to make things better in The Locker Room. I owe you that. 

To everyone I wasn't able to mention: Shouts to you. You are very much part of what makes us tick... Without you we would be nothing but an empty page. I am forever thankful.

And to you, yes you, dear reader: You are here right now... And that deserves acknowledgement.

Technically, We ain't even suppose to be here... But we're here... So we might as well make it count.




Here's to you, Legend!

///

LOCKER ROOM LEGENDS.

Jake&
Phil&
Giulz&
JR&
Cess&
JD.

#WolfPack

#LxG

FREE AT LAST.

Remembering Dr. King. This is for all you dreamers.

100 : 1

100 : 1.