The Final Score: A salute to San Miguel and Alaska after epic Game Seven

 

Not everyone won. But no one lost. 

 

San Miguel deserved to win Game Seven because even when the Beermen, whose starters were beyond exhausted, were operating on muscle memory in the last two minutes, they still won. They made the plays they needed to make. They dodged the bullets they needed to dodge. They survived when survival actually seemed ambitious. 

 

Alaska deserved to win Game Seven, too. But Alaska knows no PBA team has ever willingly shared a championship. Co-championship was not an option. Hence, the Aces looked at a 23-point deficit in Game Seven and surmised, “We either stage another comeback or we’ll see San Miguel lead by 40 and watch them celebrate as early as the third quarter.” 

 

When San Miguel surged ahead, 21-12, with one minute left in the opening quarter, I couldn’t help but think, “Oh no. Not again.” The thought was applicable to both teams. That was oh-no-not-again as in not another slow start for Alaska. That was also oh-no-not-again as in not another prequel to another late meltdown for San Miguel.

 

But Arwind Santos kept hitting three-pointers as if he’s been hitting three-pointers his whole career. The effect of a Santos three-point shot can be likened to the effect of a point guard soaring high for a rebound. For the opposing team, it’s demoralizing. 

 

So the Beermen cruised along, leading 35-19 halfway through the second quarter. At which point, one was tempted to daydream the way fans tend to daydream during a lopsided game. You think about the possibilities, beyond the second half, beyond the celebration, beyond the shower of beer, beyond the post-Finals hoopla. Secretly, you tell yourself, “Maybe, finally, hopefully, please naman, this is it.” 

 

But Alaska is a team that never really gives you the chance to daydream. It doesn’t matter if your team is ahead, 21-12, or 35-19, or 42-21, or 48-27. The Aces of the 2014-2015 Philippine Cup have convinced us that a big deficit is an illusion. Like a David Blaine levitation trick. You shouldn’t believe what you see.

 

True enough, San Miguel’s advantage started to wither. Down to 15. Down to eight. Down to four. Down to three. Down to one. We were witnessing madness induced by pressure defense all over again. All Alaska wanted to do was run. Calvin Abueva, Ping Exciminiano, Chris Banchero, Cyrus Baguio – they all wanted to run like they were members of a 4x100 relay team. 

 

In contrast, all San Miguel wanted to do was to sit down, catch its breath, and grab a beer. June Mar Fajardo ended up tallying 21 points, 25 rebounds (not a typo), in almost 45 minutes. Santos finished with 22 points, 12 rebounds, five three-pointers, four blocks, in close to 47 minutes. I can guarantee, June Mar and Arwind weren’t thinking of their prodigious stats during the second half. They were thinking how 24 official basketball minutes felt like 24 long grueling hours. 

 

San Miguel’s dominance combined with Alaska’s refusal to give in so easily to such dominance played tricks on our minds. Because that’s how the series played out. Whenever the Aces trailed by 20 in the first half, it felt like they were down by just 10. Whenever the Beermen trailed by four late in the game, it felt like they were down by 14. 

 

 

As such, when Baguio scored a lay-up to finally push Alaska ahead by 2, 70-68, with five minutes left in Game Seven, it seemed more than just a two-point advantage. From lagging behind by 23 to being up by 2. It was unreal. It seemed another epic comeback by Alaska was complete. It seemed San Miguel’s breakdown was beyond repair. 

 

Like the Calvin Abueva express, that relentless battering ram which would finish Game Seven with 23 points and 15 rebounds in just 30 minutes, would never stop.

 

But while we praise Alaska’s resilience in never giving up, San Miguel likewise displayed a trait we can also admire – the ability to keep it together. Exhausted. Broken down. Wobbling at the very edge. Survival, especially when you’re already tapping other body organs for oxygen, demands the same ferocity as resurgence.  

 

I don’t know where Arwind got that last boost of energy. He appeared so spent, he looked like could airball an easy lay-up and no one would be surprised. But, it was survival time. He held the ball outside the three-point line, at 9:30pm, nearing the end of Game Seven, nearing the end of either another San Miguel meltdown or Alaska comeback, and fired a longer-than-usual three.

 

Months ago, I asked FEU Athletic Director Mark Molina, “Is Arwind Santos one of your favorite Tamaraws?” 

 

Molina replied, “Absolutely. No one I have been associated with comes close as a player and person. Hinihintay pa ng FEU yung next Arwind.”

 

Swish. 

 

The advantage Santos created with that three-point shot was the one last disadvantage Alaska couldn’t overcome.

 

Besides, that was, I suppose, Alaska’s plan all along. To make someone not named June Mar play huge for, if need be, 7 games. To make someone not named June Mar win Finals MVP. To make someone not named June Mar hit a big shot that only big shot makers can take. To make someone ultimately win Game Seven with a shot not even the Twitter critics can tweet about. That someone was Arwind Santos.

 

After the game, Molina posted a tweet: Congrats @arwindsotnas! Di ka talaga papatalo. Saludo ako sayo!

 

We salute both teams. San Miguel won the Philippine Cup. Alaska earned a fearsome reputation. Someone asked me which team deserved to win. If a series reaches Game Seven, perhaps both teams already deserve to win. There are no co-champions in the PBA. Therefore, we congratulate one team for finally winning the championship (yo, the Kraken is now a champion) and congratulate another team for making the series wild until the very end. — JST, GMA News