by Dennis U. Eroa

It’s not just going to be memorable; it’s going to be fabulous, fantastic, and extraordinary. Despite my brittle health, aggravated by distance, I swore to myself that the PBA 50th Anniversary celebration would be one event I would not dare to miss. Never. I will run the extra mile to attend and rub shoulders with old and new friends.

My excitement is anchored in the Philippine Basketball Association, which mirrors a life well spent. It is an alchemy of tears, sweat, blood, and joy. Dreams are fulfilled and shattered by broken knees or Father Time.

A lot has changed since the days of writing stories on rusty typewriters and dictating stories by phone to the desk before the coming of the mighty fax machine.

Let us no longer dig deeper into the arrival of social media and, yes, the mushrooming of bloggers, who are mostly paid to destroy one’s credibility.

That’s life. The thing is to remain calm and humble, two traits that are hard to find nowadays.

There is no substitute for watching high-octane games up close, a privilege given to the Press Corps, which saw the light during the regular after-game nights out of the scribes at Edsa Kamayan.

The blood and saliva coming from the busted lip of the illustrious Big J (Hope the Living Legend will show up after being away from the limelight for years) stained my shirt and remained fresh in my memory. It was a memorable nip-and-tuck game against Northern Consolidated of Ron Jacobs. I covered it all, writing for Sports Flash, edited by sports writing idol Recah Trinidad and an equally brilliant support group composed of Al Mendoza, Jimmy Cantor, Ave Perez Jacob, Larry Galvez, Henry Liao, and the highly popular and controversial Nap Gutierrez, second mother of Hall of Famer Alvin Patrimonio.

It was in Sports Flash that I met boxing guru Nick Giongco, who would submit his piece riding a Mercedes, and of course, the unsinkable and friendly “what a cute little a**” Roy “Ayos” Luarca.

Despite the years and a memory now hazy, I continue to be enthralled by seeing Ramon Fernandez make a nifty pass to his rival Robert Jaworski, who preserved the golden moment by sinking the game-winner against a group of battle-tested newbies during an All-Star game at the Ultra, now the Philsports in Pasig. The Cold War between Jaworski and Fernandez was the talk of the town before the two icons reconciled.

Luarca, now with the MPBL, and Gabby Alvarado, who became the richest after years of working as an editor in Hong Kong, and I became known in the league as the Triple Towers because we didn’t reach the average Pinoy height of 5-foot-4. We were small but terrible.

In this regard, we beat the Twin Towers of the San Antonio Spurs, composed of David Robinson and Tim Duncan. And we copied the Triple Towers of UST—Julian Rabbi Tomacruz, Gido Babilonia, and Dennis Espino. Kindly correct me if I’m wrong.

I cringed in horror as Samboy “Skywalker” Lim crashed headfirst after a mid-air collision with future stars Jojo Lastimosa and Jerry Codinera. That was a death-defying experience, and the joke that the much-loved Beerman was an expert in getting into the air but didn’t know how to land with his feet. I watched the drama under the basket because the press row was bursting with people.

Sadness and the longing for brotherhood from comrades who passed will always be part of my PBA journey. Beth Celis, whose insightful column became a sports fan’s delight; editor Teddyvic Melendres, who waged a gallant but losing fight against Lou Gehrig’s disease; Tempo’s Rudy Navarro, Tony Siddayao, the animated Zaldy Flor Perez, Barry Pascua, the scribe with various names; and just recently, rapid-fire Clidoro “James” Mariano. We miss you, Clyde.

The likable and friend to all Joe Antonio aka Daniel Barrion, Rudy Mendoza, and Tony Siddayao.

And who will forget the father-and-daughter tandem of Ric and Dina dela Cruz, Mike Tan, and balladeer Arman Armero? The basketball world lost a commanding presence with the sudden death of Manolo “Chino” Trinidad, whose progressive views and nationalism must be copied. A UP varsity swimmer, our friendship started at the Ultra, where he was covering the games for radio. He is a huge loss to the sporting world. I was studying at the Gumaca Provincial (now National) High School when I got fascinated by the Crispa-Toyota rivalry. Soon, I was among the select few to witness the Abet Guidaben-Fernandez battle of the boards, Bernie Fabiosa’s court wizardry against Francis Arnaiz, and Bai Cristobal trying to contain Jaworski.

Fred Luarca reigned as king of statistics with his analytical mind before the coming of his good friend Fidel Mangonon, who made life easier for the scribes.

It wasn’t surprising for us in the press room to see Atoy Co and Philip Cezar puffing cigarettes after losing efforts as they studied their statistics written crudely on the board. With your indulgence, I need to mention the tremendous help given to me by my friends while I lay unconscious at the hospital bed—Congressman Eric Buhain, Edwin Rollon, Gerry Ramos, June Navarro, Josef Ramos, Rey Lachica, Siopao Sy, Danny Espiritu, Manny Salgado, Johnny Valdes, Terry Capistrano, Louie Alas, Brian Yalung, Samahang Plaridel, PSA, PBA, and TOPs, Dr. Jay Adalem, Ed Andaya, Aldrin Cardona, Nelson Beltran, prayer warriors of Holy Trinity Parish headed by Fr. Larry, Omana family, my sister Maricris and her family, my wife Lorna, and our sons, Devillenas, and many more.

Rest assured that I hold no rancor toward those who forgot and swept aside our friendship. That’s life. Special mention to my very good friend Congressman, soon-to-be Senator, Erwin Tulfo of ACT-CIS, who never hesitated to lend a helping hand.

The Lord gives me the strength to be able to witness firsthand PBA@50.

Luckily, I was able to watch the great Baby Dalupan at work. Unorthodox style of coaching. Dante Silverio remains a classic with his style.

Physical conditioning among the big guns was a foreign word.

Alvin Patrimonio, Lastimosa, Glenn Capacio, Jerry Codinera, and Dindo Pumaren became the new superstars and, of course, who will forget the sweet-shooting Allan Caidic? Caidic from UE evolved as the country’s premier swingman and was feared in the international arena.

To the fanatics, Man of the Ball Romy Kintanar was a delight. I believe that the roly-poly Kintanar clicked because of his close affinity with the fans. Nowadays, the premium is on good looks, color, height, haircut, and even weight. Talent and knowledge of the game take the backseat.

Gone too soon also were the players who once thrilled us with their bountiful exuberance of moves and, of course, the bigwigs tasked to shape the future of Asia’s first professional play-for-pay league.

Luckily, I was able to exchange views with the late Commissioner Jun Bernardino, whose masterful handling steered the league during its stormy years.

His replacement, Willie Marcial, became the 10th Commissioner, and when he was appointed by the board, I was the first to react with joy. This is because Marcial rose from the ranks and was always ready to lend a helping hand. He masterfully steered the league in the crucial Covid years. I love you, Kume.

Unafraid to take criticism (he loves the critics), Marcial has a raging mission, and that is to keep the league in its lofty place.

Norman Black and Tim Cone love to accommodate questions from wide-eyed scribes to the point that Black has no time to notice that one interviewer mistook a pen for a microphone. He is out of the country now.

“Salamat po kay Cabatu” became a Black classic. It happened when burly Sonny Cabatu bungled what could have been the winning free throws with no time left.

With the solid support of the board, headed by Ricky Vargas, no doubt that the PBA is here to stay. Mark my words.