The Final Score: Danny Seigle, mano po

When I joined the PBA, Danny was already there, a walking mismatch, a legend in the making. I am older than Danny Seigle. Yet I feel he is older than me. He belongs to an era I can never be part of. No matter how hard I try. No matter how vivid my memories are.

I was like a freshman on campus when I entered the league. Danny was like one of the elite upperclassmen; a varsity stud. I remember. It felt surreal when I covered a San Miguel game for the first time. The words Dynamite Danny awkwardly bounced off my tongue. I shared no kinship with this man. His seniority over me wasn't based on age. His seniority, the authentic kind, was earned. While Danny threw dynamite at old concepts (a 6'6" player should be this and do that) and exposed fans to new ideas (a 6'6" player can be this and do that), I traveled from province to province covering the Metropolitan Basketball Association (MBA). I saw the emergence of Cebu's Dondon Hontiveros up close. But I witnessed Seigle's propulsion only from hotel rooms and airports and conversations. I was never an intimate participant of the early phenomenon. I can have as many sit-down interviews with Danny, but my status as detached witness in Siegle's early years will never change. Today, Danny is still a walking mismatch. Yet he is also a myth. For younger fans, it takes faith to believe that this 35-year old once dominated the league, through pull-up jumpers few can contain, through thundering dunks few can forget. Maybe I missed the apex of Danny Seigle's reign. Maybe I arrived two years too late for the party. I finally saw him healthy and productive in 2005, but that was a return to form, not his meteoric rise to rarity. Maybe for many who can never separate him with the injuries he sustained, such reverence for him doesn't make sense. It's 2012. Danny Seigle scores 19 points. Barako Bull wins over Talk 'N Text in Game 1 of the Semifinals. He's still a sourpuss when it comes to non-calls. He's still predictable when he tries to score. But it must mean something when younger fans can still witness one of the greats at work. We can't make time sprint back. But Seigle and his motley crew of thirtysomethings can make time stop. Even for just a five-game series. Against the best team in the league. Against the ravages of heavier legs and slower metabolism. Against what is expected from Manongs like him. The image never fades. Arm extended skywards. Ball in hand. Backboard as scenery. A slam dunk in transit. 1999 Danny Seigle lives forever. For those who saw. For those who continue to see. I saw 1999 Seigle from a distance. I now see 2012 Manong Danny up close. It's still part of his body of work. The rush of watching him try strangely feels the same. - GMA News