I still remember the first time I walked into a PBA arena back in 2005—the electric atmosphere, the roaring crowd, and the sheer intensity on the court. Today, as I reflect on the league's history, I can't help but feel a profound sense of loss thinking about the legends we've said goodbye to over the years. The recent passing of several PBA icons has hit me particularly hard, reminding me how fragile life can be even for these seemingly invincible athletes. These players weren't just statistics on a scoreboard; they were the heart and soul of Philippine basketball, each leaving an indelible mark on the game we all love.
When I think about players like the great Samboy Lim, who passed away in 2023 after years of health complications following that tragic 2014 collapse during an exhibition game, it brings back memories of his incredible 12-year career with San Miguel Beer. I was fortunate enough to witness his famous "Skywalker" antics live, and let me tell you, nobody could defy gravity quite like him. His career statistics—averaging 14.2 points per game during his prime—don't even begin to capture the magic he brought to every match. Then there's Yoyong Martirez, who left us too soon in 2021 at just 62. Having covered his career extensively, I always admired how he maintained that incredible 85% free throw accuracy throughout his 15 seasons with Tanduay and Purefoods. These players embodied what current coaches mean when they say "every game is tough right now"—they approached each contest with that same intensity and respect for their opponents.
The recent statement from a current PBA coach really resonates with me: "Every team is good. So we have to be at our best. We know we're gonna get everybody's best shot." This mentality was exactly what drove players like Avelino "Samboy" Lim to push through injuries and still deliver spectacular performances. I recall covering a game where Lim played through a sprained ankle and still managed to score 28 points—that's the kind of dedication we're talking about. These departed stars understood that there were no easy games, no days where you could "just walk, wake up, go play and win the game," as the modern coaches put it. They brought championship mentality to every practice, every quarter, every possession.
What strikes me most about these lost legends is how they've shaped today's game. When I look at current stars like June Mar Fajardo, I see echoes of Ramon Fernandez's fundamental excellence—Fernandez, who we lost in 2021, was the first player to reach 18,000 points in PBA history, a record that stood for nearly two decades. His career rebounding average of 11.2 per game remains one of the league's gold standards. These numbers aren't just statistics—they represent countless hours of practice, sacrifice, and basketball intelligence that younger players would do well to study. I've spent hours breaking down game footage from the 80s and 90s, and the technical precision of these departed greats still amazes me.
The physical toll of the game certainly contributed to some of these early departures. I remember interviewing several retired players who confessed they played through concussions and significant injuries because that's what was expected in their era. Medical staffs then were nowhere near as sophisticated as today's—teams typically had only 2-3 medical personnel compared to the 8-10 specialists modern franchises employ. This lack of proper care likely shortened careers and contributed to long-term health issues for some of these beloved players. It's something that still bothers me when I think about what might have been if they'd had today's sports medicine advancements.
Personally, I believe we're losing something precious with each passing of these basketball pioneers. The way Crispa's legendary players like Atoy Co approached the game—with that unique combination of flash and fundamentals—created a blueprint for Filipino basketball that influences how the game is played today. Co's career scoring average of 17.8 points per game doesn't capture his revolutionary impact on fast-break basketball in the Philippines. Having watched hundreds of games across different eras, I can confidently say today's run-and-gun style owes much to these innovators.
As I write this, I'm looking at my collection of vintage PBA jerseys—including Lim's famous number 9—and feeling that mix of nostalgia and sadness. These players gave us everything they had, night after night, in an era when salaries were a fraction of what today's stars earn (top players in the 80s made around ₱15,000 monthly compared to today's ₱350,000+ contracts). Yet they played with a passion that money can't buy. Their legacy lives on every time a player dives for a loose ball in the fourth quarter or makes that extra pass instead of taking a contested shot. The current coaching wisdom about bringing your best because every team can beat you? These departed legends lived that reality every day of their careers.
The truth is, the PBA will never see quite the same combination of grit, grace, and groundbreaking talent that these players represented. They built the foundation upon which today's stars stand, and their absence leaves a void that statistics and championship banners can never fully capture. As the league continues to evolve with taller imports and flashier plays, I find myself increasingly grateful for having witnessed these legends in their prime. They taught us that basketball isn't just about winning—it's about how you play the game, how you respect your opponents, and how you leave everything on the court. That's a lesson today's players would do well to remember as they face increasingly competitive matches where, indeed, there are "no more teams that you can just walk, wake up, go play and win the game."