So painful was the protracted pounding on the national psyche, local basketball fans sunk into a collective denial. Powerhouses China and South Korea never faced our professional players, we argued, expediently forgetting that household names like Adornado, Fernandez, Co, Cezar, Guidaben, Jaworski, Florencio, Reynoso, Soriano and Mariano had represented the country a year before they turned pro–and could only manage a wretched fourth place finish at the Tehran Games in 1974.
1990 was the year the Philippines was supposed to have showed the world that it had been condescendingly holding back all these years, that its best Philippine Basketball Association (PBA) players would wrest back Asian basketball supremacy. Poorly coached by Robert Jaworski, Fernandez, Caidic, Lim, Paras, Patrimonio and company managed a lucky and disreputable silver medal (more on this later). Honest scholars of the game, after some agonizing soul-searching, confessed we had at best just the third best team in the competition–the disparity between the top two teams and our own national team made us appear distinctly second-rate. It was the first time many Filipinos admitted that our flashy, individualistic brand of basketball was no match for the simple, unselfish and efficient play of our rivals.
To the credit of the PBA, it has once again agreed to release its top players and bankroll the Philippine team’s campaign for gold at the 14th Asian Games in Busan, South Korea this September. Ron Jacobs, the intense ex-Loyola Marymount University head coach, was their chosen messiah. In the mid-80s, Jacobs had steered both the Philippine juniors and seniors team to championships in the less prestigious Asian Basketball Confederation. The American coach, whose passion and mastery of amateur tactics is unquestioned by all but the most parochial basketball "authorities," dutifully set up tryouts and prepared an eight-month master plan for the campaign. If anyone could pull off a miracle, it was Jacobs.
Then, the unthinkable happened–Jacobs, a health buff, suffered a stroke on December 22, 2001. The country’s best basketball mind still remains recumbent on a St. Luke’s Hospital bed, unable to communicate except through head and hand movements. His chief assistant, Joseph "Jong" Uichico, was propelled into the most hazardous job in Philippine sports–and, at least initially, was as bewildered as everyone else.
"I just didn’t want the job to be given to me on a silver platter since I was the assistant coach already," says Uichico. "I wanted the other coaches to come out also–they might be more deserving. They might be better than me, who knows? I wanted to give the guys who wanted the job every opportunity. According to the newspapers, no one came out so the job ended up with me."
Uichico has recovered from his shock, now has his game face on, and is proving to be as severe a taskmaster as his mentor Jacobs. The new head coach of the Philippine national team has resumed try-outs at the state-of-the-art Moro Lorenzo Sports Center at the Ateneo de Manila University, inspecting the progress of the 30 aspirants with the squinty-eyed glare of a drill sergeant. The tryouts are grueling–wind sprints and scrimmages from 9 a.m. to noon and weight training in the afternoon, Monday to Saturday. These players have never experienced anything like it and, much of the time, hands are on hips as they gasp for precious oxygen with their heads bowed down and eyes closed, as if willing the pain away. The 30 candidates have been divided into two teams, which will both compete in the PBA’s Governor’s Cup (which opens today at the Araneta Coliseum) where the other PBA teams will be allowed to field two imports each. Only 12 players will later make the final cut.
But why hold try-outs at all? Uichico is an experienced coach backed up by assistant coaches Allan Caidic and Eric Altamirano (along with other volunteer coaches)–they already know the strengths and weaknesses of practically every player in the PBA and regularly design defensive strategies against its best offensive players. For reasons of potential recruitment, they are also familiar with the top players of the mba and pabl, as well as the uaap and ncaa leagues.
"We’re not only looking for players that play the game very well. We know who can play. We know who the 12 best players in the PBA are. But do we know who are dedicated enough to sacrifice everyday for the next eight months? We don’t! We only know the guys who can shoot, who can rebound. What we need here is dedication and commitment to that common goal," says Uichico.
Already, the selection process has exacted a toll. The training sessions have been postponed for two days to allow ten injured or ill players to recuperate from its rigors. There have even been awols. Marlou Aquino, Sta. Lucia Realty’s talented but under-achieving center, skipped practice for three days in a row–conflicting reports claim it was either because of an allowance dispute or an argument with the coaching staff over fines imposed for tardiness. Imprudently, Dennis Espino followed suit in sympathy for his 6’9" Sta. Lucia teammate. Summoned by the PBA Commissioner, Aquino was told in no uncertain terms to return to training. Uichico has welcomed the two renegades back–no hard feelings.
Uichico understands the boiling pot of ego and swagger that star players bring to the kitchen. He was, after all, a player himself. A member of the De La Salle University varsity team, he went on to become part of the RP Youth team that became ABC champions and the RP Men’s team in 1983 and 1984. A solid player (tall at the time for a guard), Uichico made up for a lack of first-step explosiveness with a reliable medium-range shot and a thinking man’s approach to the game of basketball. He was coach material.
In 1990, Uichico began to learn the craft. He coached the De La Salle Zobel High School team for two years and then the De La Salle University team from 1995-97. More importantly, he was San Miguel Beer’s assistant coach from 1992-98, learning motivational techniques and basketball strategy from the master, then head coach Jacobs. In 1999, the student upstaged the teacher. Uichico was appointed head coach of San Miguel, which had been threatening to end Alaska Milk’s domination of the PBA. San Miguel under Uichico won five of the next nine conferences–at one point, Uichico was a perfect five championships in five finals appearances. Unknown to many, Uichico’s record in his first two years as head coach is vastly superior when compared to Jacobs’s last two years, although few would argue that the American had laid sturdy foundations for the rebuilding of the San Miguel team.
Uichico finds himself in a sociologically remarkable epoch in Philippine basketball–Fil-Ams are dominating nearly every league in the country. It is entirely possible that Fil-Am players will make up the majority of the national team. How fervently Filipinos will embrace a team with only a handful of brown-skinned players is an intriguing question. Incontestable, though, is that Fil-Ams have raised the ante with their superior work ethic and athleticism. But as Uichico demands of his players, will they "dive on the floor, sacrifice their bodies and still be there fighting it out against China to the end when it counts"?
Poch Juinio, a pure Filipino (is there such a thing, really?) national team candidate, was quoted as wishing that the Fil-Ams chosen should be "yung ready magpakamatay for flag and country. For sure kasi, lahat ng mga pure locals, ganun ang gagawin." Judging from the efforts on display at the training sessions, it is unreasonable to question the patriotism of the Fil-Am aspirants. 6’9" Asi Taulava’s face is contorted with determination to outsprint the other big men–and he does, ignoring the punishment it brings on his body. Among the forwards, fleet-footed Rudy Hatfield blows everyone else away. Ali Peek, his muscles managing to spill out despite a baggy XXXL shirt, is hitting the gym inspite of an injury.
The head coach is determined to stay away from the tacit controversy. "During the time I was playing, there were few Fil-Ams. The Filipino players were lax but now that the Fil-Ams have come in, they have to step up in practice, during games and in their lifestyle. If they help the national team’s cause, then why not? Fil-Ams are sacrificing for the country just as much as the pure Filipinos. I set the try-outs then pick the best players who will give me the best chance of winning. Whether they are Fil-Ams or pure Filipinos, they are all Filipinos," says Uichico.
Undoubtedly, China will be the most feared team in the Asian Games. With its agile pair of giants–the 7’5", 283-lb. Yao Ming and Dallas Maverick’s 7’1" Wang Zhizhi–patrolling the shaded area, China is the hands down favorite for the gold medal. In the past, the Philippines has also struggled against Asia’s other elite team, South Korea. During the second round of the 1990 Beijing Games, the Jaworski-coached national team clearly tanked a game against China–losing by a humiliating 65 points–in order to avoid South Korea in the semi-finals, thus ensuring themselves an empty silver medal finish. Whether there were explicit instructions to play to lose is arguable, but the renowned Filipino fighting spirit took a long, mystifying time-out that distasteful night.
No one can accuse Uichico of being anything but a pragmatist. Ask him how he would respond in a similar situation, though, and his position is unambiguous. "For me, I say let’s play! If we win, we win. If we don’t, we don’t," he says.
Besides a decided dearth of pure shooters, Uichico has other things to worry about. "I’m concerned with the players’ adjustment to the amateur style. Even I am used to the PBA style. The amateur style is a complete turn-around. We want to see which players can adjust, which bad habits we can take out and how we can instill good habits. The offensive style employed in the PBA is mostly one-on-one. It’s tougher under amateur rules to go one-on-one because they play zone defense–defenders can sag off their man. There’s not too much room to maneuver."
The young coach admits he has no outlet for the inhuman stress of his job. He neither plays basketball anymore nor has he picked up, say, golf. The limited free time he has he spends with his wife and three children–two boys, both in Ateneo, and a five-year old girl in Assumption. "Even when I was coaching in the PBA, I take a loss very badly," he says. "It goes on for two to three days. It’s hard, maybe I should start exercising or something. I guess I have to find a way. I know I have to take care of my health."
If Uichico’s team can win the gold, in the process pulling off the greatest upset in the history of Philippine sports, the celebratory mood will likely cause the stock market index to rise (along with beer sales and other peripheral merry-making products). Spirits will be uplifted in a way even a double-digit gdp growth announcement would not approximate. All those photo opportunities with the new Asian Games basketball champions might even conceivably catapult the incumbent President into a certain 2004 election win–such is the influence of basketball on our culture. Uichico, however, is pragmatic enough to dispense with any hollow rah-rah promises.
"You’re representing 70 million Filipinos; the pressure is just too much. We are all here for a common goal so we should all be in this together. Let’s not resort to crab mentality in this project. I’m here as the head coach–whether or not I am the right choice, I can’t do anything about that. All I can do is ask for everyone’s support, unless they want to replace me–that’s fine too," he says defiantly.
Relax, Coach–you d’ man. Just pick the right men.