To those unaware of internal wrangling that hounded the amateur basketball scene in the early 70's, the idea seemed to come straight from left field. Or, to be more apt, it seemed like a three-point shot from the parking lot. But the moment Gregorio "Joy" Dionisio buried the first basket in a packed Araneta Coliseum that really didn't quite know what to expect at first, the idea made its creators look like geniuses.
The Philippine Basketball Association was born in 1975, conceived by hoop idealists to break free from the clutches of an amateur basketball association that they felt mimicked the dictatorship that gripped the country then and embraced by a nation with an unquenchable thirst for something they could not define until the newborn professional league gift-wrapped it to its people.
Primal action. Raw intensity. A sport that would soon evolve into a national pastime. A league the people could call their own. Soon, the plots began to unfold like a late afternoon soap opera whose previous episode is linked to the current and to the next.
Crispa and Toyota would rise above the field to launch a rivalry that would be unmatched up until the PBA's modern history. In fact, long after the Berlin Wall toppled down to fuse into one an erstwhile divided Germany, and long after a series of arms treaties thawed the cold war between democratic America and communist Russia, the gap wedged between the two teams remained wide as ever.
The chasm was never so glaring than in a reunion match two decades later, when what was supposed to be an exhibition outing turned into a heated game decided by one big basket conspired by two of the league's most enigmatic products-Toyota stalwarts Robert Jaworski, now a senator of the republic, and Ramon Fernandez, one of only two players to collect four Most Valuable Player trophies.
As the pages of history fluttered by, the PBA continued its evolution. After years marked by street-tough players who took what they could dish and made those of weaker spirit loom foolhardy on the court, the league changed its look in the 80's with the influx of the likes of Hector Calma and Samboy Lim, who combined basketball skills with excellent teamwork.
Then came Alvin Patrimonio and the rest of the glamour boys, who sustained the following of the league and at the same time added a new twist: Female and female-at-heart fans started flocking to the coliseum and shrieked side-by-side with the male audience.
But part of the league was imbedded in its past. And when Jaworski and the rest of the never-say-die Ginebra squad forged a rivalry with Shell and its tandem of Benjie Paras and Ronnie Magsanoc, it seemed like a throwback to the old days of Crispa and Toyota.
But the rivalry was short-lived. Partly because neither team could sustain its dominance of the league, but mostly because underneath the surface, change was pressing itself against the league again.
Enter Kenneth Duremdes, Johnny Abarrientos and Vergel Meneses, who brought in their athleticism and transformed the PBA into something for the younger audiences to adore. Acrobatic drives, rim-rattling dunks and one-on-one offense would be in vogue.
Then came Danny Ildefonso, brothers Danny and Andy Seigle, and Willie Miller, who all took the game above the rim, exciting a new batch of basketball fanatics entering the new millennium.Still, a look-back could not be avoided and the PBA paid tribute to the 25 greatest players ever, donning them in silver jackets as the league celebrated its silver anniversary.
But again, changed pressed on. And in a bold departure from tradition, the PBA re-shifted its focus, putting the spotlight on the All-Filipino and cooking up an invitational tournament that would feature foreign teams. To the uninitiated, it may seem like a progressive idea that came straight from left field. Or, to be more apt, a three-point shot from the parking lot.
But everybody knows what happened the last time people thought that same way.