THE fury of the Ginebra-Meralco title series has overwhelmed Typhoon Karen’s threatening winds and rains.
As I write my comeback column before noon of Sunday, the Philippine Basketball Association (PBA) Commissioner’s Office said Game Five of this magical hardcourt classic was a go. It was a tough call on a morning when the metropolis, wet and flooded in some areas from an overnight of lashing rain, has battened down the hatches to await the howler.
But when two teams are battling it out with guts spilled on the court, so that this best-of-seven has been turned into a best-of-three, a fight to the death with no quarters given, the gladiators deserve no less.
From innumerable years as a hardcourt kibitzer, I realize that this season’s Cinderella team has been the Bolts. Unlike their many pedigreed rivals, many of which had fallen on the wayside in this conference, the Bolts have no winning tradition to uphold, only a glittering crown to chase. And unlike the Gin Kings, they have never stood sainted in mythmaking, adored by fans, of which they are legions, and showered with plaudits from the experts of the game.
But these Bolts are electrifying in their intensity, awesome in their aggressiveness and intimidating in their relentlessness. More than any other element, defense has defined this series, and it is the Bolts’ defensive intensity that has stood out. They could claw back from the depths of double-digit deficit and scamper away to double-digit leads themselves. When the Bolts play like this, like they did in the third quarter of Game Four, they are mesmerizing.
Already with two wins, they could go farther than they ever dreamed of. Their prize on Sunday night, if the Bolts could break the 2-all tie in their favor, is the crucial go-ahead win, setting them up for one single game that could change their also-ran status.
All the raw materials for this title chase are in the mix—the Governor’s Cup best import in Allen Durham, the gritty slam-dunking take-charge rookie in Chris Newsome, the PBA’s all-time hottest hand from three-point range, ageless Jimmy Alapag and an array of unfancied stars whose relentless pace and unselfish play continue to astound fans.
They face the fury of a team that owns the gallery, but above all, lives on its reputation as one that fight down to the wire. Since the days of the ageless Sonny Jaworski, the Gin Kings’ never-say-die spirit has been legendary. Those Kings could look mortally wounded and ready for the beheading, as they did going into the fourth quarter of Game Four, but steeped as they are in tradition, they could be unsinkable, as many times they have proved, and proved once more on Friday night.
When they were staring at a 16-point deficit, literally looking into the precipice, the Gin Kings turned to a couple of seniors who came off the bench to turn around the game—and, perhaps, this series.
Jayjay Helterbrand, with legs that turned 40 that night, looked like the nimble-footed guard 16 years ago, when the player that has pushed him farther back down the Ginebra bench, Scottie Thompson, was a 6-year-old star-struck basketball fan.
Together with his buddy almost as old, Mark Caguioa, he turned back the clock for at least one night. Coach Tim Cone could not be second-guessed for what he had in mind when he plucked the duo out of nowhere. From where I sit, it seemed to me that turning to Helterbrand, with the game or even the title slipping away from the Gin Kings, was an act of faith.
He threw Heltrebrand into the fray, desperate for a miracle on the hardcourt, and he got one—fire brought by Prometheus. It came as a fiery spectacle. Helterbrand did not just score. He sizzled from the long court, pumping in one three-point shot after another. The unimagined impact of those shots in a desperate situation was like that of a magic bullet pumped from a hidden sniper trained for cold-blooded murder.
Helterbrand was the assassin that night. Nerveless, he strung up 11 points for the quarter, playing in more minutes in one game than, perhaps, he ever did in the entire conference. He could not explain later how he was able to do it. In front of a television camera, he looked up to the gallery of still delirious fans, his eyes narrowed, his lips breaking into a grin, and he told the TV panel: It’s because of them—the fans that have kept faith with the Gin Kings even when to believe in them was to become blind to the reality that Ginebra has not won a title in six seasons.
Caguioa’s defensive aggressiveness and rebounding, if not his physical presence, added to this magical night. He was back in his elements.
The Gin Kings, to win it all, need two more nights of magic from its graying heroes. Will their knees hold up?