General Admission
To be or not to be a politician
By Al S. Mendoza
I have a confession to make.
In 1992, I almost aimed for Pangasinan’s second district seat in Congress.
The late Conrado “Tio Condring” Estrella said to me: “Come on, run! You need P200,000 as seed money to start your campaign. I will help you.”
He knew that I had the support of billionaire Danding Cojuangco.
“With Danding supporting you, how can you lose?” said Tio Condring, the baptismal godfather of my younger brother and who was a well-loved former governor of our beloved province.
Danding was a candidate for president in 1992, losing the grimly-fought battle to Fidel V. Ramos.
OK, you want more history?
Five years earlier, in 1987, I interviewed Danding, who was in self-exile, in his modest bungalow in uppity Sta. Monica, Los Angeles, CA.
I was the first Filipino journalist to interview Danding after the 1986 Edsa Revolt, together with the late Roger Flores.
I had just moved then to Inquirer from Bulletin, with Roger joining The Globe from The Times Journal.
The interview had been arranged by Chit Pineda, Ninoy Aquino’s former chief of staff, who had become Danding’s chief confidante.
Roger and I had just covered the World Golf Juniors in San Diego and, by chance, I bumped into Chit in a side visit to San Francisco, where Chit was based.
I was with Chit in my 1985 coverage of the World Club Basketball Championship in Girona, Spain, where San Miguel Beer, starring Samboy Lim, was a participant.
A man who values loyalty more than anything, Boss Danding had me called up to his house near Balete in Q.C. the night he sneaked into town dramatically from the US.
His clandestine, late-night arrival had caused the Inquirer’s headline to be changed way past deadline and, the next morning, Danding’s return was Page One banner—with my byline in it.
I made history as the first sportswriter to write a political story worthy of headline.
Thus, my being a potential congressional bet under Danding’s NPC ticket in 1992.
Everybody in the family had approved of my plan, save for two—and they just happened to be the two most important women in my life: My mother (God bless her soul) and my wife.
“You might get into trouble, son,” my mother said to me. “I know you. You can’t stand crooks.”
“I do not like politics coming into our family,” my wife said to me. “Dirty.”
Cris Mendoza (may his soul rest in peace) got my mother’s blessing (Cris came to the house and begged me to withdraw as my mother watched); he won and he would next come to the house to express his profound gratitude to my mother.
When election fever is near, I ask myself, always: “Is there still a spark of politics in my heart bright enough to make me think of running, if the wife finally says yes?”
The answer comes from Lord Melbourne: “I don’t need fellows to support me when I’m right. I need fellows who support me when I’m wrong.”
Perhaps, it is still wrong for me to enter politics.
Ask the missus.
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