THE picture says it all, Tab Baldwin in the middle of a sea of tall blue shirts. The veteran coach, a much-admired tactician of the Philippine five, could not have been more blessed. Finally, he has Version 4 of Gilas Pilipinas, unwrapped like an early Christmas package, with a lineup that is upgraded, enhanced, finessed and made younger, taller and more deadly with its outside firepower.
The players he had coveted but were unfortunately withheld from him months ago when he led the old-version Gilas to the Fiba Asia Olympic qualifier, are now in the fold. Seventeen pro league notables—the celestials, so to speak—gathered not as rivals clashing in an emotion-charged atmosphere of a title series, but as teammates linked as chain, and out to get a near-impossible job done.
That was on Monday. It was opening day of the Gilas Pilipinas practice, the first step in the Philippines’s long-suffering quest to nail its first berth in Olympic basketball in more than 40 years. It is eight months to the day this team will take to the floor to accomplish the job the Gilas 3 could not get done in China in September—punch a ticket to the Rio de Janeiro Olympics.
The ground beneath the Gilas stars’ feet certainly rumbled, and the waves of excitement they generated rippled to ignite the hopes of even the most forlorn basketball fans. Baldwin, a man who hardly betrays his emotions, had no reason to hide behind a poker-face mask.
“I wish I could be with them every day,” he spoke to a reporter. “Get as much as I can with them every day.”
It sounded all so good. But then it also sounded an alarm. I feel there are only dire prospects that lie ahead for Baldwin and his boys. He is faced after all with something called “terror,” an Eiger-like mountain almost impossible to climb, even harnessing all the resources now at his full command.
In July in the final Olympic qualifier for Rio, he will not only be attempting to climb over some powerhouses of Europe and the Americas. He will be trying to climb over some formidable mythology. The last Philippine five to see action in a pre-Olympic tournament, in 1964, fell short of the climb. It fell miserably against the tough 10-nation field in Yokohama whose top 4 finishers advanced to the Tokyo Olympics proper. These were Mexico, Australia and Canada—all winners over the Philippines—and the lone wolf from Asia to advance, South Korea. (Interestingly, the Filipinos beat the Koreans, 90-58, in the final game, which meant little consolation after they slipped to sixth place.)
Failing to clinch the top berth in Changsa two months back, because the old Gilas used a team that was a mixed of extremes—the oldest cager (Asi Taulava) who 42, and a sparkling but undersized rookie point guard, Terrence Romeo—what logic would then help the Filipinos to survive an even tougher field of Olympic bidders in July next year?
In Changsa, they were up against Asians—well within the range of their capabilities to beat. In the next round they would be up against the nonqualifiers from other Fiba elimination zones, teams hungry to get to Rio, and having tall, well-trained lineups to accomplish the job.
This is not a putdown on Gilas V4. I have too much respect for our players and for Coach Tab to even contemplate such a thought. But I express this creeping fear, which I sensed in Badlwin’s opening statement. Sure we felt the ground tremble on which Gilas 4 stood—not only out of a sense of excitement but of something close to dread.
The fact is Baldwin’s time is short, too short in my reckoning. He could not train with his new team every day. “But we all know that that’s impossible,” he told the same reporter. The gods of the PBA decreed a Monday-only practice, and so it will be until this decree is amended.
So how much time would be realistic to put this team in real competitive shape? In his last Gilas stint, Baldwin did not enjoy the luxury of time. In fact he had to run double-time to breathe competitive fire into it. I felt like he had to make a dash to the series opener, and the one made to sprint the fastest was Andray Blatche. Out of shape, Blatche took off for the campaign at probably 50-percent capacity. He was still overweight by the time Gilas got into the series’ final game.
Now that we have a combustible mix of talents that are taller, younger and more prepared for an international campaign, what is in store for Gilas V4?
Prominent no-shows in the Fiba Asia series, the San Miguel Beer duo of June Mar Fajardo and Marcio Lassiter are assured of participation. Also back in the fold are Rain or Shine’s Jeff Chan and Paul Lee, Ginebra’s LA Tenorio and Japeth Aguilar. Another Gin King, seven-footer Greg Slaughter, and Star’s Ian Sangalang are also in.
They join Gilas 3 carryovers Marc Pingris, Calvin Abueva, Gabe Norwood, Troy Rosario, Matt Ganuelas Rosser, Ranidel de Ocampo and Jayson Castro. Whether Blatche will rejoin the team remains in doubt. So is the status of Fil-Am guard Jordan Clarkson of the Los Angeles Lakers. A maximum of seven players, and a minimum of five, would be dropped from the final roster at the end of the seven-month buildup.
I have mixed emotions looking at this team. It is formidable, it has the makings of a Dream Team. If only this quintet, and another, had campaigned in China in September, the Gilas narrative would have been a happier version.
But because the gods of the PBA saw things differently—only to have a change of heart after the best card had been lost—this new team is in for a steeper climb.
We hope Baldwin has some magic left to whip Gilas 4 into an Olympic legend.