A BRIEF ENCOUNTER WITH AN ICON
“DOODS. Dominico “Doods” Amora is a Professional Electrical Engineer, one of very few in the Philippines. Engineering is his true passion, but boxing is a beloved mistress.” (SunStar Daily, Second Overtime, Aug. 22, 2007)
There went the lines of a renowned sports columnist in one of his SunStar Daily postings. The words were uncomplicated - nimble as a butterfly but stinging like a bee. The usual patent of Homer Sayson.
Somehow, my wife liked it. I myself loved it… My friends too, in concurrence.
The morning before these words came off the press, I happened to have an unexpected overseas call direct from Chicago, Illinois, USA. We talked for about an hour as if we had long been good old friends lost in the vastness of the globe.
Unbelievable my friends, it was MR. HOMER SAYSON, the engineers’ favorite sports columnist, himself! I couldn’t believe my ears!
And there never was a dull moment…
His voice was youthful, humble and kind - his speech friendly, truthful, straight-forward and witty – continuously flowing akin to the energy of the beer bottle filling machines of a brewery in Mandaue City. Much to my delight, the compliment was mutual. From the very first line of our conversation, I knew I was talking to an exceptionally talented man.
He had read the article, “A SUNDAY IN HISTORY” which was posted at CESEEPS Blogsite. He called because he wanted to “feel the face” of the writer just as he enjoyed much the piece. “I just can’t call anybody overseas if I don’t have good reason to do it”, said he. Those mere words alone were enough for me to swoon. Disarmed, I stammered, unsure of what to say along the way… I was talking to an icon…!
HOMER SAYSON. Yes, a Cebuano, a full-bloodied Bisaya whose unique delivery and mastery of the English prose must have brought multitudes of English–speaking Caucasians envious. To countless buffs, Homer is the best! I had been following his “Second Overtime” at SunStar Daily with faithful adulation for years. My only yearning was, “I wish I could do a mere fraction of his talent in writing”. I am just an engineer, without any journalistic training…
But then he said, “Writing can be self-taught. Yet fundamentally the flare should be there and the learnings can be achieved later”. To his conviction, improvements to one’s work are endless. It’s up for me to discover.
Sounded familiar, I recalled my own lectures… something about an open-ended, never-ending exercise…
I wanted to discern the underlying secrets, and I found myself browsing the SunStar archives. And for several times, again and again…, I savored and relished his previous works; and to share a few excerpts of them are as follows:
“… and her smile was just like the afternoon ocean breeze, soft and warm…and as she leaned slightly forward, her twin assets threatened to spill.
Her legs were long, deliciously thick and round. And they’re white as the sandy beach. Hazel Reyes in real life, Ms. Ara Mina has been all over the news lately. But for the wrong reasons…” How can anyone else introduce Ms. Ara Mina in a better fashion?
In another piece of work, “When I first saw him in Sacramento during the World Cup of Boxing two weeks ago, Bert Batawang looked ashen, as though life had just been sucked out of his vibrant 30-year-old spirit.
… The flood of bad news was enough to send Batawang to jump from the nearest bridge or the tallest building. He, however, took his fate like a man, confident that in the mystery of God’s ways, things will play itself out for the better.” …
And in tribute to Edito Villamor,
… He is one of the most valuable pieces of the ALA boxing empire, a tireless team player with selfless goals and an unbridled, unceasing love for the sport.
But every time the lambent lights of recognition gleam on the ALA boxers, he is rarely seen or heard. Not a shadow, not even a whisper.
He isn’t mute, or acting hard to get. He just doesn’t want to be found. Or heard.
But on the heels of our success last week at the World Cup in Sacramento, where our pugs drilled the Mexicans, 5-1, it’s high time to unmask this unsung hero.
Given his patent discomfort with publicity, writing this piece was, shall we say, quite a challenge. I felt like a rookie dentist trying to pluck a reluctant molar from a stubborn, defiant patient…”
With the above lines read and re-read, I felt hypnotized. I couldn’t help expressing to myself, my awe.
Outside, there was heavy downpour. A brief thunderstorm ensued - as if boldly reminding me that I’m in the verge of committing the sin of idolatry.
Then I thought of his advice: “Develop further your metaphors. And you will find the big difference. Go back to your past works and rewrite them as if they are as recent as today. Then you will discover the diversity.”
I groped my past, seeking where could I have heard the word “metaphor”. It couldn’t be in college, I’m sure. Similar to other engineering students, those were the days where my cronies and I used to hop our English classes in favor of that bubbly brownish elixir concoction served in “garapons” popularly known as South Terminal I & II courses. (The engineers knew what it was! Hehehe… remember the good old times, guys?)
I now suppose, it should have been my High School English. I remembered I had two excellent teachers way back high school days. But then, without any clear directions at the time, youthful fancies used to derail and drown a confused soul from the right roadmap.
Now I discovered, my beloved mistress could have been writing.
Unofficially today, everyone knows that I have written five books which stood as training materials for CESEEPS Re-Engineering program. But they are technical books. And I suppose, mine is more of a Technical English.
Again, writing could be my other love. But I should have done my homework long before…
I hope it's not too late to be a trace of HOMER SAYSON.
There went the lines of a renowned sports columnist in one of his SunStar Daily postings. The words were uncomplicated - nimble as a butterfly but stinging like a bee. The usual patent of Homer Sayson.
Somehow, my wife liked it. I myself loved it… My friends too, in concurrence.
The morning before these words came off the press, I happened to have an unexpected overseas call direct from Chicago, Illinois, USA. We talked for about an hour as if we had long been good old friends lost in the vastness of the globe.
Unbelievable my friends, it was MR. HOMER SAYSON, the engineers’ favorite sports columnist, himself! I couldn’t believe my ears!
And there never was a dull moment…
His voice was youthful, humble and kind - his speech friendly, truthful, straight-forward and witty – continuously flowing akin to the energy of the beer bottle filling machines of a brewery in Mandaue City. Much to my delight, the compliment was mutual. From the very first line of our conversation, I knew I was talking to an exceptionally talented man.
He had read the article, “A SUNDAY IN HISTORY” which was posted at CESEEPS Blogsite. He called because he wanted to “feel the face” of the writer just as he enjoyed much the piece. “I just can’t call anybody overseas if I don’t have good reason to do it”, said he. Those mere words alone were enough for me to swoon. Disarmed, I stammered, unsure of what to say along the way… I was talking to an icon…!
HOMER SAYSON. Yes, a Cebuano, a full-bloodied Bisaya whose unique delivery and mastery of the English prose must have brought multitudes of English–speaking Caucasians envious. To countless buffs, Homer is the best! I had been following his “Second Overtime” at SunStar Daily with faithful adulation for years. My only yearning was, “I wish I could do a mere fraction of his talent in writing”. I am just an engineer, without any journalistic training…
But then he said, “Writing can be self-taught. Yet fundamentally the flare should be there and the learnings can be achieved later”. To his conviction, improvements to one’s work are endless. It’s up for me to discover.
Sounded familiar, I recalled my own lectures… something about an open-ended, never-ending exercise…
I wanted to discern the underlying secrets, and I found myself browsing the SunStar archives. And for several times, again and again…, I savored and relished his previous works; and to share a few excerpts of them are as follows:
“… and her smile was just like the afternoon ocean breeze, soft and warm…and as she leaned slightly forward, her twin assets threatened to spill.
Her legs were long, deliciously thick and round. And they’re white as the sandy beach. Hazel Reyes in real life, Ms. Ara Mina has been all over the news lately. But for the wrong reasons…” How can anyone else introduce Ms. Ara Mina in a better fashion?
In another piece of work, “When I first saw him in Sacramento during the World Cup of Boxing two weeks ago, Bert Batawang looked ashen, as though life had just been sucked out of his vibrant 30-year-old spirit.
… The flood of bad news was enough to send Batawang to jump from the nearest bridge or the tallest building. He, however, took his fate like a man, confident that in the mystery of God’s ways, things will play itself out for the better.” …
And in tribute to Edito Villamor,
… He is one of the most valuable pieces of the ALA boxing empire, a tireless team player with selfless goals and an unbridled, unceasing love for the sport.
But every time the lambent lights of recognition gleam on the ALA boxers, he is rarely seen or heard. Not a shadow, not even a whisper.
He isn’t mute, or acting hard to get. He just doesn’t want to be found. Or heard.
But on the heels of our success last week at the World Cup in Sacramento, where our pugs drilled the Mexicans, 5-1, it’s high time to unmask this unsung hero.
Given his patent discomfort with publicity, writing this piece was, shall we say, quite a challenge. I felt like a rookie dentist trying to pluck a reluctant molar from a stubborn, defiant patient…”
With the above lines read and re-read, I felt hypnotized. I couldn’t help expressing to myself, my awe.
Outside, there was heavy downpour. A brief thunderstorm ensued - as if boldly reminding me that I’m in the verge of committing the sin of idolatry.
Then I thought of his advice: “Develop further your metaphors. And you will find the big difference. Go back to your past works and rewrite them as if they are as recent as today. Then you will discover the diversity.”
I groped my past, seeking where could I have heard the word “metaphor”. It couldn’t be in college, I’m sure. Similar to other engineering students, those were the days where my cronies and I used to hop our English classes in favor of that bubbly brownish elixir concoction served in “garapons” popularly known as South Terminal I & II courses. (The engineers knew what it was! Hehehe… remember the good old times, guys?)
I now suppose, it should have been my High School English. I remembered I had two excellent teachers way back high school days. But then, without any clear directions at the time, youthful fancies used to derail and drown a confused soul from the right roadmap.
Now I discovered, my beloved mistress could have been writing.
Unofficially today, everyone knows that I have written five books which stood as training materials for CESEEPS Re-Engineering program. But they are technical books. And I suppose, mine is more of a Technical English.
Again, writing could be my other love. But I should have done my homework long before…
I hope it's not too late to be a trace of HOMER SAYSON.
DOODS A. AMORA, PEE
August 27, 2007
1 comment:
Ang high school teacher diay ang hinungdan sa tanan... tsk! tsk! i know..i know...
sir, hurot na gyud ako believe in your writing style. How i wish i could write as good as this... i dont know if i can in my lifetime... may be i can or may be not.. depende kung kinsay teacher... ngita pako...
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