Comebacking Tigers: The Clutch Cat and Mr. Gunner
By Carla Patricia S. Perez
FOR two men who have lived and breathed basketball all their lives, taking a one-year hiatus is like struggling to walk on one foot—which happened literally to both—only to The Clutch Cat, it was his fractured right ankle that caused him a year’s forced abstinence from playing; to Mr. Gunner, it was his anterior cruciate ligament (ACL)-stricken knee, on top of academic difficulties, that had him sit out of the hardcourt last UAAP season.
Aljon Mariano has been a cager since he was five. His father taught him the nitty-gritty of basketball—shooting, dribbling, and defense. The 6-foot-3 forward was born and raised an athlete; his father’s efforts fully paid off 15 years later, and molded him into becoming The Clutch Cat that he is known today—bouncing back from his injury like a renewed man.
Clark Daniel Oliver “Tata” Bautista blossomed as a three-point hotshot in high school. The 5-foot-9 guard manned and dominated the perimeter—it was and remains to be his comfort zone where he has knocked down game-changing and game-winning baskets. Tata was 2008 UAAP-NCAA three-point shootout champion, which fortified his Mr. Gunner moniker and made him one of the Growling Tigers’ go-to guys after overcoming his deficiencies—both physically and academics-wise.
One major quality that sets Mariano and Bautista apart is their mastery of igniting and finishing comebacks, both on and off the court. They have been through the lowest points in their basketball careers and have survived, but not via the easy way out, not without going through the tough task of fighting their own doubtful, hesitant selves.
The Clutch Cat almost gave up and thought his ordeal was ‘impossible’ to overcome. He suffered physically, but it was the mental and emotional torture that was almost ‘unbearable.’
“At first I thought I couldn’t play basketball again, for the rest of my life. Pumayat ng sobra ‘yung paa ko n’on,” the 20-year old Mariano said. “I lost my sense of balance and found it hard to run or even walk.”
Therapy brought ‘relief,’ but only prolonged the already agonizing experience. Yet The Clutch Cat never dwelt on the thought of giving up.
“I underwent therapy for about six months. It went quite well, but it hurt seeing my teammates practicing and playing while I was sidelined,” Mariano said. “I felt helpless, but that only made me want to recover faster.”
But things did not pass that easily for Mariano as he lost self-confidence and wallowed in self-pity for a period, only to recover and become ten times better than the player he was a year before.
“It took a lot of discipline to rise through my injury, but I eventually did,” Mariano said.
It was almost the same tribulation for Mr. Gunner, only to him, it was a double whammy—he had failing grades that caused him his slot in the Tigers’ roster last season, plus, he acquired an ACL during one practice that hit Tata with a double blow, straight in his face, and caught him off-guard.
“It was really, really difficult for me then. It felt like the whole world hated me and the heavens crashed upon me,” the 22-year old Bautista said. “Even my parents resented me the first time they found out I failed and won’t be playing.”
Everything came as a ‘reality check’ for Tata, a ‘wake-up call,’ and ultimately, a ‘blessing in disguise’ that had him reflecting on who he has been, what he wants to become, and where his basketball career is headed—turned out to be the best it can ever get.
Yet the ‘best’ seemed out-of-reach at first as Bautista struggled through the first few weeks of recuperation, carefully finding his way back to being studious and nursing his hurting knee at the same time.
“The only life I knew then was on the court. I took for granted my studies and became happy-go-lucky,” Mr. Gunner said as he smiled shyly, traces of regret still etched on his face. “I thought, if only I could turn back time and redo things, I would.”
It was a little too late for remorse, and Tata recognized that he’s left with no other choice but to deal with his problems like a man should. It was his choices that led him to them anyway.
“One Monday, I went to school so early the security guard (in the AB building) did not let me in until 30 minutes or so after I arrived,” Bautista said. “It felt weird and good at the same time, right there and then, I knew I was back on track.”
Tata personally talked to each of his professors and promised to redeem himself, but asked them to give him time. They agreed and gave the ‘reforming’ Tiger a second chance, which he did not waste.
“There were only about a couple of times I was late or absent. After classes, I went to therapy and sometimes visited my teammates in practice,” Mr. Gunner said. “All I could do then was watch them from the sidelines, but I promised myself I would join them again the following year, and I am now,” Tata added with a disguised wink.
Classes-therapy-practice-classes-therapy-practice, the cycle went on for almost a year. And before he knew it, Bautista was almost through with junior year and knee rehabilitation.
“I didn’t notice time pass, I believe I enjoyed myself. I met friends along the way and completely regained the trust of my professors,” Tata said. “It was coach Pido (Jarencio)’s trust that was hardest to win back, but fortunately, I also did.”
For The Clutch Cat and Mr. Gunner, it was a year of reconstruction, a year full of realizations, a year of reformation, and a year packed with learning that propelled them back to the Growling Tigers’ lineup—with the team, at the top, just when everybody seemed to have forgotten them and counted them out.
Mariano has come a long way from being a five-year old who only knew the basics of basketball, to a starting power forward who has been the Tigers’ most reliable shooter—able to knock down big baskets in the most crucial, most heart-stopping, and most exhilarating dying seconds of every game—when only a layup or a turnover draws the thin line between victory and defeat.
Mariano’s injury only made him hungrier, but more so, it pushed him to become better. The Clutch Cat averages 13.3 points, 7.07 rebounds, and 2.13 assists per game, numbers that have brought him to the Mythical Five of the current UAAP season—the league’s cream of the crop—a not-so unfamiliar territory to The Clutch Cat, and a manifestation of vast improvement from his averages a couple of years back.
“I’ve been part of the mythical five in high school. But honestly, it’s not the personal glory that matters,” he said. “Team always comes first.”
Mariano’s performance has helped UST secure the second spot (and the twice-to-beat advantage in the semifinals) in the UAAP, behind four-time champion Ateneo de Manila University, whom they are pitted against in this year’s best-of-three finals series—a deja vu of the 2006 championship. But he did not do it on his own.
Besides the aid of his other teammates, The Clutch Cat carried the team on his shoulders with his fellow comebacking Tiger Bautista.
Tata may only be a utility player and may come off the bench most if not all the time to give captain Jeric Fortuna a breather, but he delivers every time coach Pido taps him to play, bringing to the court his much needed ball-handling expertise and three-point shooting, to top his 8.07 markers, 2.80 boards, and 1.80 dishes per-game averages.
The Clutch Cat has grown to love the payoff period, the win-or-go-home-empty-handed part of the game, and he has developed the habit of capping it all off with the now famous “Mariano wink.”
“I first did it after our game against La Salle in the first round. I just didn’t know what to do when the camera was focused on me [as I was awarded as best player of the game],” he said with a giggle. “I just winked and heard the crowd laugh. It has become viral since then.”
For Tata, there are no pre-game, in-game, or post-game antics, only his ‘cool’ self with his ‘hot’ hands sinking jumpshot, after jumpshot, after jumpshot.
“I’ve not been used to making any gestures or mannerisms. I just celebrate a bit after making a big shot with my finger pointing upward,” Bautista said. “It’s to recognize that He’s behind whatever I was able to accomplish.”
Tata may be the more expressive one when it comes to faith and religion, but Mariano does it in his own, discreet ways.
“Before I leave the house, I utter a short prayer to the small image of Jesus in our altar,” he said. “I ask him for guidance but most especially, for good health and safety all the time, for me and my family.”
FOR two men who have lived and breathed basketball all their lives, taking a one-year hiatus is like struggling to walk on one foot—which happened literally to both—only to The Clutch Cat, it was his fractured right ankle that caused him a year’s forced abstinence from playing; to Mr. Gunner, it was his anterior cruciate ligament (ACL)-stricken knee, on top of academic difficulties, that had him sit out of the hardcourt last UAAP season.
Aljon Mariano has been a cager since he was five. His father taught him the nitty-gritty of basketball—shooting, dribbling, and defense. The 6-foot-3 forward was born and raised an athlete; his father’s efforts fully paid off 15 years later, and molded him into becoming The Clutch Cat that he is known today—bouncing back from his injury like a renewed man.
Clark Daniel Oliver “Tata” Bautista blossomed as a three-point hotshot in high school. The 5-foot-9 guard manned and dominated the perimeter—it was and remains to be his comfort zone where he has knocked down game-changing and game-winning baskets. Tata was 2008 UAAP-NCAA three-point shootout champion, which fortified his Mr. Gunner moniker and made him one of the Growling Tigers’ go-to guys after overcoming his deficiencies—both physically and academics-wise.
One major quality that sets Mariano and Bautista apart is their mastery of igniting and finishing comebacks, both on and off the court. They have been through the lowest points in their basketball careers and have survived, but not via the easy way out, not without going through the tough task of fighting their own doubtful, hesitant selves.
The Clutch Cat almost gave up and thought his ordeal was ‘impossible’ to overcome. He suffered physically, but it was the mental and emotional torture that was almost ‘unbearable.’
“At first I thought I couldn’t play basketball again, for the rest of my life. Pumayat ng sobra ‘yung paa ko n’on,” the 20-year old Mariano said. “I lost my sense of balance and found it hard to run or even walk.”
Therapy brought ‘relief,’ but only prolonged the already agonizing experience. Yet The Clutch Cat never dwelt on the thought of giving up.
“I underwent therapy for about six months. It went quite well, but it hurt seeing my teammates practicing and playing while I was sidelined,” Mariano said. “I felt helpless, but that only made me want to recover faster.”
But things did not pass that easily for Mariano as he lost self-confidence and wallowed in self-pity for a period, only to recover and become ten times better than the player he was a year before.
“It took a lot of discipline to rise through my injury, but I eventually did,” Mariano said.
It was almost the same tribulation for Mr. Gunner, only to him, it was a double whammy—he had failing grades that caused him his slot in the Tigers’ roster last season, plus, he acquired an ACL during one practice that hit Tata with a double blow, straight in his face, and caught him off-guard.
“It was really, really difficult for me then. It felt like the whole world hated me and the heavens crashed upon me,” the 22-year old Bautista said. “Even my parents resented me the first time they found out I failed and won’t be playing.”
Everything came as a ‘reality check’ for Tata, a ‘wake-up call,’ and ultimately, a ‘blessing in disguise’ that had him reflecting on who he has been, what he wants to become, and where his basketball career is headed—turned out to be the best it can ever get.
Yet the ‘best’ seemed out-of-reach at first as Bautista struggled through the first few weeks of recuperation, carefully finding his way back to being studious and nursing his hurting knee at the same time.
“The only life I knew then was on the court. I took for granted my studies and became happy-go-lucky,” Mr. Gunner said as he smiled shyly, traces of regret still etched on his face. “I thought, if only I could turn back time and redo things, I would.”
It was a little too late for remorse, and Tata recognized that he’s left with no other choice but to deal with his problems like a man should. It was his choices that led him to them anyway.
“One Monday, I went to school so early the security guard (in the AB building) did not let me in until 30 minutes or so after I arrived,” Bautista said. “It felt weird and good at the same time, right there and then, I knew I was back on track.”
Tata personally talked to each of his professors and promised to redeem himself, but asked them to give him time. They agreed and gave the ‘reforming’ Tiger a second chance, which he did not waste.
“There were only about a couple of times I was late or absent. After classes, I went to therapy and sometimes visited my teammates in practice,” Mr. Gunner said. “All I could do then was watch them from the sidelines, but I promised myself I would join them again the following year, and I am now,” Tata added with a disguised wink.
Classes-therapy-practice-classes-therapy-practice, the cycle went on for almost a year. And before he knew it, Bautista was almost through with junior year and knee rehabilitation.
“I didn’t notice time pass, I believe I enjoyed myself. I met friends along the way and completely regained the trust of my professors,” Tata said. “It was coach Pido (Jarencio)’s trust that was hardest to win back, but fortunately, I also did.”
For The Clutch Cat and Mr. Gunner, it was a year of reconstruction, a year full of realizations, a year of reformation, and a year packed with learning that propelled them back to the Growling Tigers’ lineup—with the team, at the top, just when everybody seemed to have forgotten them and counted them out.
Mariano has come a long way from being a five-year old who only knew the basics of basketball, to a starting power forward who has been the Tigers’ most reliable shooter—able to knock down big baskets in the most crucial, most heart-stopping, and most exhilarating dying seconds of every game—when only a layup or a turnover draws the thin line between victory and defeat.
Mariano’s injury only made him hungrier, but more so, it pushed him to become better. The Clutch Cat averages 13.3 points, 7.07 rebounds, and 2.13 assists per game, numbers that have brought him to the Mythical Five of the current UAAP season—the league’s cream of the crop—a not-so unfamiliar territory to The Clutch Cat, and a manifestation of vast improvement from his averages a couple of years back.
“I’ve been part of the mythical five in high school. But honestly, it’s not the personal glory that matters,” he said. “Team always comes first.”
Mariano’s performance has helped UST secure the second spot (and the twice-to-beat advantage in the semifinals) in the UAAP, behind four-time champion Ateneo de Manila University, whom they are pitted against in this year’s best-of-three finals series—a deja vu of the 2006 championship. But he did not do it on his own.
Besides the aid of his other teammates, The Clutch Cat carried the team on his shoulders with his fellow comebacking Tiger Bautista.
Tata may only be a utility player and may come off the bench most if not all the time to give captain Jeric Fortuna a breather, but he delivers every time coach Pido taps him to play, bringing to the court his much needed ball-handling expertise and three-point shooting, to top his 8.07 markers, 2.80 boards, and 1.80 dishes per-game averages.
The Clutch Cat has grown to love the payoff period, the win-or-go-home-empty-handed part of the game, and he has developed the habit of capping it all off with the now famous “Mariano wink.”
“I first did it after our game against La Salle in the first round. I just didn’t know what to do when the camera was focused on me [as I was awarded as best player of the game],” he said with a giggle. “I just winked and heard the crowd laugh. It has become viral since then.”
For Tata, there are no pre-game, in-game, or post-game antics, only his ‘cool’ self with his ‘hot’ hands sinking jumpshot, after jumpshot, after jumpshot.
“I’ve not been used to making any gestures or mannerisms. I just celebrate a bit after making a big shot with my finger pointing upward,” Bautista said. “It’s to recognize that He’s behind whatever I was able to accomplish.”
Tata may be the more expressive one when it comes to faith and religion, but Mariano does it in his own, discreet ways.
“Before I leave the house, I utter a short prayer to the small image of Jesus in our altar,” he said. “I ask him for guidance but most especially, for good health and safety all the time, for me and my family.”