I’d like to point everyone to this thoughtful analysis from Rafe Bartholomew of the Wynne Arboleda incident. I would call it a must-read, but if you’ve been reading this blog long enough, you’d know that pretty much everything Rafe writes is a must-read. While he doesn’t absolve and condone Wynne’s behavior, he does empathize with the Burger King guard and points out flaws in our culture along the way. I grew up watching basketball in the environment that Rafe describes; I’d written about how my mom took me to my first PBA game when I was six, featuring my favorite Purefoods Hotdogs against the evil Ginebra team led by Robert Jaworski, and a riot damn near broke out.

Rafe’s post provides context and balance to the sentiment in a lot of different places, including my buddies over at Patay ang Butiki, calling for Wynne’s head. Of course, I do agree that there needs to be punishment, as Alaska coach Tim Cone put it, “A message must be sent.” I’d argued before (in Danny I’s case) that players really ought to be smarter about these things, given that they probably have more to lose. Maybe the repercussions of this incident will be enough to drill that into everyone’s heads.

While we’re here, let me call out this latest column by Mico Halili where he basically argues that the fan started throwing invectives at Arboleda because he got so worked up by the awesomeness of Smart Gilas. I’m a huge Mico Halili fan—I think he’s the best play-by-play guy in the country—but what the fuck? Who ghost-wrote that column, Noli Eala? Fanboy much?

I also don’t get the whining about the rough play from Burger King throughout the game. Of course, a lot of it was uncalled for—that’s why the referees called all the flagrant fouls on the Burger King players, and that’s why Arboleda was ejected! Justice was served, and play continued. As the old Robert Jaworski saying goes, “Kung ayaw n’yong masaktan sa basketball, mag-chess na lang kayo.”

But the rough play or the refs’ calls wasn’t the reason Ronjay Buenafe and Gary David could get any shot that they wanted, or that Beau Belga could barrel his way to the hoop unimpeded, or that Richard fucking Yee could get layup after fucking layup by making the same baseline cut that every forward in every pickup game in every street and plaza basketball court all over the Philippines does.

So let me go back to that Purefoods-Ginebra game from when I was six. Purefoods fans were obviously outnumbered, and the Ginebra rogue’s gallery—Jaworski, Gonzalgo, Isaac, and company—were doing their best to intimidate the pretty-boy Hotdogs, led by their star rookie slasher, Jojo Lastimosa. I’m sure Jolas had his share of hacks, kicks, and other public displays of affection from the Gins on his way to the hoop.

Jolas and the rest of the Hotdogs didn’t whine about the rough calls, or even the unruly crowd who showered peso coins on the court. You know what they did to get back at Ginebra?

Win.