Jimmy Alapag has retired, and the game of basketball in the Philippines has dimmed just a little, as we realize the paradox of inspiration. Millions of young boys have grown up watching him play and wanting to be the next Mighty Mouse. But we all know it will never happen. There will never be another Jimmy Alapag.
I first met Jimmy in 2002, an excited young little fellow in his early 20’s. He dreamed of making the Philippine team and then joining the PBA. He had heard of the pro league from his brothers, and was fortunate enough that his parents were still Filipino citizens at the time of his birth, or else we would have been deprived of his brilliance. Full of the positive reinforcement his family had provided, Jimmy came to his motherland with little more than his sneakers, a gym bag and a dream, but what a ride it turned out to be. No support system, no relatives, very little clothing, even. Just guts and the willingness to sacrifice: an undersized basketball OFW in his own land.
Of course, things didn’t work out as planned. On the second day of the invitational tryouts, coach Ron Jacobs suffered a stroke from which he would never recover, and Jimmy’s paperwork didn’t push through. We all remember the trauma that followed: a last-second heave by a desperate Korean knocking the Philippines out of third place in the Asian Games. On hindsight, observers believed that the team would have done better had Alapag been on the line-up. I tend to agree with that assessment.
Eventually, his papers did come through, but in his first experience on the PBA floor with the guest national team, his hand was injured. Another setback. Eventually, he made the draft the following year, and it was the start of Talk ‘N Text’s ascent. Alapag’s arrival was greeted with an All-Filipino championship in 2003 and three finals appearances over the next three years. After a merry-go-round of coaches since the team first joined the league, stability came just as Jimmy matured as a leader. His work ethic (7 a.m. personal workouts before team practice) made him stronger and better able to take the contact. Next came five championships and three runner-up finishes before his final season. In the interim, he had been hailed a PBA All-Star for over a decade running. How many players can make that claim?
Of course, there was also the poetically perfect PBA All-Star Game in the New Cebu City Coliseum in 2004. Alapag and Asi Taulava were both named Most Valuable Player, drawing comparisons to the pairing of John Stockton and Karl Malone for the Utah Jazz over close to two decades. I didn’t say it then, but I thought it was not a fair comparison. First of all, Stockton and Malone were not friends deep in their youth, as Asi and his proclaimed “little brother” were. Secondly, they played different styles. Third, Jimmy also created on his own, contributing equally as a shotmaker on offense. And lastly, Stockton blended into the background among the legends on his country’s Dream Team, able to walk the streets in Barcelona unnoticed during the Olympics in 1992. Jimmy’s game brought him more attention on a global scale, as FIBA repeatedly acknowledged in their promotions. Where Stockton’s lack of size made him appear more common, Alapag’s made his achievements more gigantic.
When his dear friend Eugene Tejada was paralyzed after a bad fall in a Mother’s Day game in Antipolo, Alapag gamely joined a bunch of other PBA veterans in a fundraising game at the San Juan Arena. Wanting to give the fans something extra, Jimmy reached back in time and pulled out a flashback of his best Spud Webb dunks, including bouncing the ball off the floor and catching it in mid-air for a slam. Seeing those players play unfettered by rules and strategies to display their pure athletic skill and love for the game was refreshing, but Alapag’s performance was most satisfying of them all. It was just a small sliver of light into a heart that gave selflessly away from the spotlight, and not too many people knew of his charity of self, tome and resources.
As his career grew, so did the challenges. It seemed that no matter how big the Goliaths grew, Alapag somehow rose up to new heights to slay them. In May of 2012, facing fatigue playing for both the Tropang Texters and Gilas Pilipinas, and personal strain from health concerns for his father and brother, Alapag again pushed his limits. In a classic Game 7 finals loss to B-Meg, Alapag fired a career 29 points laced with seven three-pointers with just 14 attempts. In some media, his shooting was the story, akin to decades-old PBA headlines where an unbelievable Crispa loss overshadowed the achievements of its conqueror.
Of course, his most indelible accomplishments were etched in another uniform. Representing the Philippines in the FIBA-Asia tournament, Alapag again acquitted himself excellently, carving chunks out of seemingly insurmountable leads with his precision from way beyond the three-point line. Even through injury, fatigue, mismatches and lack of time to adequately prepare, this was where he embodied the Filipino spirit the most, as an underdog with a fatal bite. Who can forget the chest-pounding, roaring image of this little captain as he gathered his teammates and showed them the way? Then, as the only member of the team who had actually been born the last time the Philippines was in the basketball World Cup, Alapag’s overachievements were recognized by FIBA itself as the best player on a team from a nation that finally overcame the travesty of not qualifying for the grandest stage of its favorite game. The side story of an Argentinian boy who offered his hero Luis Scola’s jersey for one of Alapag only confirmed what we already knew: Jimmy Alapag is world class.
In this day and age when overtraining has shortened players’ careers and thus made them more mercenary in hunting for bigger salaries or playing time, Alapag is an anomaly, staying loyal to one team and one team only. He has lived the Filipino dream: play in the PBA and the national team, win the MVP, marry a beautiful movie star, leave the game on top. But most remarkable of all, he has never changed. His values remain intact, never a foul word against anybody, rising to defend his friends, being there for the people who matter, giving back to the community. He has brought lustre to basketball with his dignity, hard work and respect for the game.
Thanks for the memories, Jimmy.
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