The Final Score: Seasons of faith for Luigi and Ria Trillo

Some need to see in order to believe. Others don’t need to see, yet already believe. For Luis Antonio and Marie Victoria Trillo, displaying crazy faith was, actually, normal. The Trillos’ belief was so intense, what needed to be seen mattered less than the need to believe. Like they knew their devotion to basketball would pay off.

Although for years, that devotion felt more like a penance. From 2000-2001, Luigi’s Adamson Falcons failed to win a single UAAP game. It had to be demoralizing for a young coach. It had to be demoralizing for any coach of any age. Imagine kung may Twitter na noon. But the Internet already provided tools to spread ridicule. In PinoyExchange.com, a popular sports forum, fans went on a commenting spree:

“When will you finally quit as coach of Adamson? Please give the Adamsonians a little respect! Don’t make the Falcons your toy. 0-28 is no joke anymore!”

“MAG-RESIGN KA NA.”

After games, Luigi and Ria, who were still dating during the Falcons’ winless stretch, would often go to Chili’s in Greenbelt 1 to have dinner. Dinner, however, functioned as an opportunity to process another loss. Food was optional. He talked. She listened. When a couple goes through 28 straight losses, one wonders if she pressed Luigi to think hard about his career at any point during one of the many post-game sessions.

“No, there was never any point,” Ria, a former basketball courtside reporter and now TV host, recalls. “I took my cue from Luigi. He never gave any indication that he wanted to quit. I never said 'forget about it.' In fact, I love that zero and twenty-eight is part of his story. We don’t want to forget it. I love that part. It inspires people.”

On a sunny April morning in 2012, a decade after the Adamson debacle, Luigi and Ria were at the Alabang Country Club. While their kids were in the pool, Luigi and Ria stayed at a poolside table. They were waiting for an important phone call from Alaska team owner Wilfred Uytengsu.

Luigi’s phone rang. He took the call and left the table. Ria observed her husband’s face from several feet away. She saw him smile. She knew that smile. She knew Luigi would finally become a PBA head coach. After the phone call, he returned to the table. Before the phone call, they couldn’t eat because of anxiety. After the phone call, they still couldn’t eat because of nervous excitement.

“We were looking at each other’s eyes,” Ria remembers. “We told each other, ‘Okay let’s do this.’ It was a little intimidating. I remember Luigi saying, ‘I know I can do this.’ So I go, ‘Let’s do it.’”

Afterwards, Luigi jumped into the pool with the kids. Ria looked on. They knew like they have always known, by virtue of faith in a sometimes unforgiving sport, great things, like playoff victories and maybe even a PBA championship, were about to come their way. - AMD, GMA News