The Unrealized Potential of Ryan Buenafe

The successful, coulda-woulda-shoulda, what-if-filled college career of one of the most enigmatic Blue Eagles ever.

As Studio 23 rolled the credits to end their coverage of the UAAP Finals, everything I witnessed during Season 76 beclouded into one kaleidoscopic, motley memory. Jeron raising Jeric’s hand in display of the highest level of respect between two competitors, two brothers. Terrence Romeo’s classless act of rubbing snot in Jeron’s hand. A photo of a heartbroken Aljon Mariano weeping on Ed Daquioag’s shoulder outside MOA Arena. Pido crying in the pressroom. Pido making mooncake jokes in the pressroom. Roi Sumang’s game-winner against NU. Jeron Teng inconspicuously showing Kevin Ferrer his tongue before he attempted to win the championship in the dying seconds of regulation. A defeated, cramping Ray Parks possibly singing his alma mater song for the last time.

Somewhere in that Season 76 memory morass sits an image of Ryan Buenafe, tears rolling down his chubby cheeks, thanking the Ateneo crowd after he had just played his last game in blue and white. I’m sure they were tears that said “Shet. Mamimiss ko maglaro para sa inyo” — tears that signaled the first degree of separation. But I wondered if they were also tears in apprehension of his future as a basketball player.

When I met him over at TGIF Eastwood one Saturday night back in September, he confirmed that he was joining the 2013 PBA Draft this coming November. He sounded so unsure of whether he’ll get a guaranteed million-peso contract and get drafted in the first round or if he’ll just get a chance to crack a roster in the second round. “Basta gusto ko lang ma-draft,” he says.

At this point, Ryan Buenafe is a tough sell to PBA teams as a sure investment. He’s a 6-2 small forward that weighs around 260 pounds (from 280 before the season), and his troubles of keeping his arms from being so jiggly have been well chronicled. His weight, miles away from being ideal for a normal person, let alone for a pro baller, is considered to be at the dangerous end of the ‘obese’ spectrum according to body mass index charts. Two hundred and sixty pounds. That’s LeBron James’s playing weight by the way. He is coming off a college season where he shot 29.8% from the field — his worst percentage ever. And even though he has considerably improved his defense this season, guarding slower teenage power forwards is a totally different animal from staying in front of twentysomething pro small forwards at their athletic peaks. That’s like moving on to Lisa Ann from sleeping with Taylor Swift. Hindi ka talaga makakasabay.

“He’ll probably be a second rounder this year,” shares a PBA assistant coach who requested for anonymity. “Mahihirapan talaga siya. He can’t shoot the ball at all. Mahirap asahan kung crunchtime lang nakakashoot. Tapos he’ll probably have the most trouble with the pace of the pro game. If he really wants it, he really needs to put in the extra work talaga,” he adds.

It is rather hard to see now that Ryan Buenafe once was athletic — a 6-2 210-pound kid that attacked the basket as ferociously as Jeron Teng and hung in the air like the Aerial Voyager, Vergel Meneses. Yes, the picture may be hazy, but he was triple-pumping the ball in mid-air before. Repressed in our memories by six years, 213 buffet meals, 333 cups of extra rice, an overflowing muffin top, and a couple of poor choices ago, the red flags (the shaky jumper and matador defense) that trailed him as a Freshman in Loyola back in 2008 were eaten up by the sheer auspiciousness of the wunderkind that he was.

That promise of greatness was never more evident than in the UAAP Season 71 Finals between the Ateneo de Manila Blue Eagles and the De La Salle University Green Archers. Only 18 years old at that time and six months removed from receiving his high school diploma, Buenafe was putting the cherry on top of a splendid rookie campaign in which he averaged 7.4 ppg, 2.6 rpg, 1.7 apg, on 38.8 FG%, in 20 minutes of playing time. He was just a freshie ballin’ like a super senior in the most exigent situation he has ever encountered on a parquet floor.

In the very first play of the series, the former San Sebastian Staglet was isolated at the high elbow against Bader Malabes. In a triple threat position, Buenafe flashed a blinding quick jab step to the right that threw Malabes out of his socks. He then recognized the gap to the left that the move created and attacked the basket for the first two points of Game 1.

It wasn’t that Ryan Buenafe was a wide-eyed rookie oblivious to pressure. He knew the actual magnitude of the game. It’s freakin’ Ateneo-La Salle for crying out loud. It was that he just basked in the big time. Chris Tiu, King Eagle and team captain of that team, was more than comfortable in letting the rookie do his thing in big moments like that. “As team captain, I had full confidence in Ryan in handling the ball (in those situations) because he would make the right decisions,” Tiu says. He adds that Buenafe played during crunchtime because the kid was never afraid to take the big shots.

Buenafe finished Game 1 with 12 points, 11 rebounds (game-high), and 5 assists. And although he followed that up with only 5 points in Game 2, he remained a consistent source of good basketball plays to help the Blue Eagles cop their first of five consecutive championships.

Rico Maierhoffer, the best big man of the Archers back in Season 71, and a victim of a crucial Buenafe and-1 in the waning moments of Game 1, recalls how Buenafe’s performance in that series suggested future success. “Okay siya nun. Pinahirapan niya rin kami that time. I know gagaling pa siya that time,” he shares.

JVee Casio, La Salle’s best guard and current lead point guard of the Alaska Aces in the PBA, remembers how crucial Ryan Buenafe was in that series. “I don’t remember any particular game-plan for him but we really made it a point to watch out for him because he can really play,” Casio says. “He played like a veteran and he was composed as a rookie. Rare din yun katulad niya lalo na yung sa mga situation na ganun,” he adds.

Tiu, Rabeh Al-Hussaini, Finals MVP Noy Baclao, and Jai Reyes, all current PBA players, formed the backbone of that championship team. But the future lay with Buenafe. “Basketball experts predicted that he would no doubt make it to the PBA,” Tiu says.

Buenafe, despite his mysterious, aloof demeanor, despite being a loose canon from the perimeter, and despite the Carmelo Anthony defense, was a natural in everything else. He was a Swiss Army Knife type of player. His Season 71 batchmates were recruited for specific talents. Nico Salva was an agile big man that had a nice touch from the perimeter. Clark Bautista was snagged by UST because of his three-point shooting. Joshua Webb was an athletic freak. LA Revilla was a jitterbug with the ball. Ryan Buenafe was the complete package.

“We saw a lot of things in Ryan (as a high school prospect) that made us want him for Ateneo,” long-time Blue Eagles assistant coach, Sandy Arespacochaga reveals. “As a high school kid, Ryan’s basketball IQ was off the charts. He was athletic. He was able to fill the stat sheet and do everything — score, rebound, assist, steal, block. And he did things needed to do to win. He did not want to lose and he had a lot of confidence when he played. He was a winner,” Coach Arespacochaga, also an assistant coach for the Talk ‘N Text Tropang Texters in the PBA continues.

What made Buenafe special that early, the thing that separated him from other talented rookies, the thing that allowed him to do ‘everything’, was the gift of court vision. He saw every little cosmic occurrence that other players, even the ones in the pros, have trouble seeing. He let those events in his wide scope of vision unfold until it was the right time to make the immaculate basketball play — whether it was for him to score or to set up a teammate. That’s why he was the perfect fit on a team laden with future pro players.

“Ryan was extremely impressive when he entered Ateneo as a rookie. Many were impressed with his basketball instincts and natural strength,” Tiu says. “Ryan had the unique ability to breakdown the defense with his one-on-one skills. He was not the quickest player but he managed to penetrate to the basket, create space for himself and either finish the play or make the right extra pass,” Tiu, now an Elasto Painter in the PBA, explains.

I was a junior back then at The Ateneo and I can remember Ryan Buenafe’s freshman year to be so auspicious that many people foresaw that it would just be a matter of time until he was the King Eagle. In the rare times that Buenafe was visible in campus, you could see college males looking at him while silently nodding as he walked by in hallways. It was the silent nod of deference in recognition of someone omnipotent, of someone our alpha. There weren’t many words said. But there was that collective feeling around campus that the kid is for real. It was the same feeling of promise Ateneans felt about LA Tenorio when he dropped 30 points against DLSU in Game 3 of the Season 64 Finals. It’s the same feeling we felt with Kiefer ten years later. People around campus were all like “Hey, we’re gonna be good for the next four years because of this kid.” After Season 71, his career was set off on a salient curve and it seemed that it was going to be pretty hard to stop.

“I knew he would make it big,” Tiu says.

In Season 71, Buenafe blended in perfectly with his then future pro teammates.

Unfortunately, it was a different kind of ‘big’ Ryan Buenafe came to be.

One night in mid September, before the ever-elusive Buenafe said yes to a meet up, I got a call from my common close friend with Ryan. He’s been trying to hook me up with the PBA prospect so that I can ask him a few questions about his college career. “Bro! Okay na. Um-oo na si Ry. Dinner tayo sa Sambokujin sa Saturday!” our common friend says.

Baffled by my friend’s choice of restaurant, I replied, “Huh?! Akala ko magpapadraft na siya. Paano siya aabot sa kundisyon kung magbubuffet tayo?!”

“Eh bro ganun talaga eh. Ubos pera natin if sa ala carte tayo kumain!” my friend replied as I laughed my ass off over the phone.

I guess it’s no secret that Buenafe loves eating. It’s as true as the statement that Miley Cyrus needs and wants a lot of attention. How the heck did his whole body look more swollen every year after Season 71 if he didn’t satisfy his gargantuan appetite? A lot of basketball observers blame his desire to chomp on as much as he can as the culprit to him being out of shape. All they see is his humongous bump.

But a lot of basketball players eat a lot. Terrence Romeo for example, can go through a sisig meal with two cups of extra rice and then still have space in his tummy for a whole serving of pancit. And then the next day, he’ll drop 30. Heck, Beau Belga and JR Quinahan of the Rain or Shine Elasto Painters gobble pancit palabok in the middle of practice — during water breaks! Point is, almost all basketball players, at least the ones at the college and pro levels, need that extra cup of rice to fuel them for what they do. And almost all basketball players do enough extra work to stay in game shape. Ryan Buenafe ate a lot in college, but did little extra work. That’s the difference. Terrence Romeo eats a lot but he stays in the FEU Gym for extended hours after practice to work on his dribbling and shooting.[1]

“When I was playing kasi, like after huddle, aalis na kagad ‘yan,” says one of Ryan’s past teammates who requested for anonymity. “Wala pang one minute wala na sa Moro (Ateneo’s practice facility) ‘yan while others do extra. If ever, rarely or sometimes lang siya nag-eextra,” the source adds.[2]

“Yes he was extremely talented and naturally gifted. The only thing that I was worried about was his work ethic and his other priorities outside the basketball court,” Chris Tiu shares.

Those ‘priorities outside the basketball court’ that Chris Tiu referred to are mainly met inside the classroom. See, the Ateneo basketball program takes school requirements seriously — almost Coach Carter style. If their players don’t get to reach a certain GPA, then those ‘student-athletes’ won’t have the chance to pursue the ‘athlete’ part of the term.[3] During his stay at The Ateneo, Ryan Buenafe had way more trouble hitting the required grade than draining a three-pointer. “Kaya minsan lang ako nakapag-train during summer, parati kasi ako may hinahabol sa school. Kailangan eh. Hindi ako makakalaro kung hindi ako mag-summer class,” Buenafe reveals.

“I think on my final year, he even missed the whole summer training then just came back right before the season, I forgot what his reason was,” Jai Reyes, who was teammates with Buenafe in Seasons 71 and 72, shares.

Ateneans in the loop always heard of stories like Jai’s, of how Ryan Buenafe rarely showed up during summer practices. Or of how “Balita ko yung Buenafe may sariling mundo.”[4] Or of how Baste boys (particularly him and Eric Salamat) were stigmatized as superiorly lazy and of how they got by with just pure talent and instincts alone.

Ryan Buenafe’s poundage naturally had an inverse relation with his production

Ryan Buenafe, however, feels that his lack of work ethic was misunderstood. “Hindi naman talaga ako tamad. Umaalis lang kaagad ako sa Moro pagkatapos ng mga practices kasi nahirapan ako makisama sa teammates ko,” the cousin of PBA vet Ronjay Buenafe reveals.

You know how Lindsay Lohan’s character in Mean Girls went barkada-hopping? When she exchanged her baggy South African-style clothes and her outcast homo friends for skimpy outfits and Regina George’s approval? And then she ultimately settled with her true and old self? Well, Ryan Buenafe wasn’t even able to explore in college. He says he felt out-of-place ever since his rookie year and that he never found go-to friends from the team that he can just hang out with. “Nung rookie year ko, naaalala ko yung mga ka-batch ko (Nico Salva, Justin Chua, Tonino Gonzaga) maglalaro sila ng 2K. Hindi ako sumasama kasi hindi ko trip yun eh,” Buenafe says.

Mysteriously missing crucial preseason team preparations — at least that was how it looked to his teammates and coaches — and the sudden popping out of stretch marks all over his body consequentially reduced the roles he was given going forward. Instead of forging a destructive 1-2 punch with Rabeh Al-Hussaini in Season 72, Buenafe was relegated to coming off the bench. In Season 73, when Al-Hussaini and Baclao left Katipunan to become the top two picks in the big league, it was suppose to be Ryan’s team already. We had that collective feeling in campus of “Oi Ryan, papayat ka naman. Ikaw na pinakamagaling ngayon. Team mo na ‘to, bro.” There was almost no room for petiks mode anymore because the Blue Eagles were really young that year and lacked go-to guys. But he still chose to stay in the “You know what, I super love eating and I super hate lifting weights so I’ll just make my teammates better” mode. And then Kiefer Ravena and Greg Slaughter came in. Plus Nico Salva blossomed into an offensive force. Buenafe was left to be a perpetual complementary part by then. Just like James Franco, he was stuck with supporting roles that were so far beneath his potential.[5]

So why did Ateneo, an institution that farts mediocrity, never made such a big fuss about Ryan Buenafe being severely fat and indifferent? Well, it’s because our teams had enough chemistry and talent to win every damn year, and a Ryan Buenafe with jiggly arms, tree trunk-looking calves, and man boobs was good enough. So we never got on his grill even if he was such a poor shooter from the field, or even if his man scored on him as easily as rappers score on Kim Kardashian. Because he was good enough. Despite him being half of the offensive prowess we needed him to be back in Season 73, he was good enough because he accentuated the talents of his teammates and he came thru when Ateneo needed him the most.[6] Apparently, Buenafe was so freakin’ gifted that his natural feel for the game never was extinguished by the fact that he was a couple of gears slower and several notches less athletic. Because his talent was as natural as Scarlett Johansen’s bossoms, he was still able to help Ateneo win championships despite the excess baggage (weight and controversies).

“His willingness to play within the team setting was key for us in all the years that he has played and in our championship runs,” Assistant Coach Sandy Arespacochaga says. “Chemistry and unselfishness were some of the things that helped us win games. Assembling talent was one thing, but getting them to play together as one was key. Ryan’s passing and unselfishness helped his teammates get better and that was evident from his very first game up to his last,” Coach Sandy continues.

So somewhere it really doesn’t make any sense. Here you have a person with split personality. Parang Jekyll and Hyde lang. Off the court, Buenafe is totally apathetic and repulsive, and unwilling to go out of his comfort zone to develop personal relationships with his teammates. On the court, he’s a total glue guy. He understood what it took to win. He deferred to his talented and in-peak-condition teammates. He was the member that made the team more cohesive, the binding element that catalyzed chemistry. Like Ross of Friends and Barney of HIMYM, Buenafe provided what the Blue Eagle teams lacked in character. He gave their championship teams the spunk, the moxy that every championship team needs and that their laid-back superstars failed to provide. And he had absolutely no problem taking on that role, “Basta panalo” the Kabitenyo says.

“I think that’s where talent comes into play talaga. With Ryan, he has a gift that’s why ang dali niya maka-adapt,” one of Ryan’s past teammates tries to make sense of the former Staglet’s ability to vacillate between Off-Court Unclubbable Ryan and On-Court Glue Guy Ryan. “Kung baga, kahit mataba ka, kung shooter ka, shooter ka parin talaga.”

As we were waiting for our one-pound bacon cheeseburgers to be served, I was able to muster enough courage to slip in a left jab and ask Buenafe to explain the tears he shed when they got eliminated. It is, after all, pretty hard to ask a man to recount a moment wherein he was at his most vulnerable. “Shyempre masakit matalo. Sa lahat ng ayaw ko ‘yung natatalo. Pero napaluha talaga ako kasi mahal ko ‘yung crowd,” he says with an expression on his face that showed utmost candor. “Mahal ko Ateneo kasi feeling ko special ako sa kanila,” he adds.

Despite him appearing in campus as often as a blue moon appears to the world, despite the legends of laziness that purred through the ears of Blue Eagle fans, despite his inscrutable personality off the court, Ryan Buenafe was universally accepted and loved in Katipunan. It’s just amazing what contributes to that, to his magnetic personality. He’s like the black sheep of the family. We all have that brother, sister, Tito, Tita, cousin, who always slacks and sells himself/herself short.

Ryan Buenafe was secretly that to the Ateneo community. When he did something brilliant, it got magnified because you’ve forgotten how special he can be. You blushed when he sporadically reminded you of his insane potential. You just always pulled for him and wished he does well. And you waited in vain for him to lose weight and revert to the Season 71 version of himself. And that’s what happened to Ryan Buenafe. Ten years from now, Ateneo fans will remember the single most memorable moment since The Gec Chia Shot — and we might not even remember that Nico Salva dropped 30 in Game 1 of the Season 75 finals — because we were convinced that we’ve seen the best of Buenafe. We thought he was done until he decided to take over Game 2 of the Season 73 Finals, until he decided, “Tang*na ‘Tang. I’m gonna jab step and nonchalantly drain this three-pointer in Ryan Cruz’s face and then I’m gonna pop my jersey like Enrico Villanueva. And I’m gonna look at the crowd as if I’m saying ‘can’t nobody beat us’” Okay, fine, he didn’t say that but it felt so much like that to me because it was so damn awesome. Heck, in euphoric celebration, I was even able to hug the random girl who sat beside me. We even made out. Thanks for that Ry.[7]

The feelings of Ateneans towards Ryan were unanimous. But he pulled a specific section of the demography the strongest: my generation of male Ateneans, specifically the guys the same batch or higher than Ryan’s. Go ahead, try asking any guy from my generation this: Sinong pinaka-idol mo sa Seniors after L.A. Tenorio and before Kiefer Ravena? For sure ‘Ryan Buenafe!’ will come out more than any other name. We weren’t able to relate with Chris Tiu because Masyado siyang gwapo at matalino eh. Tapos ang galing pa maglaro. Hindi ma-reach. We thought Rabeh Al-Hussaini’s mind wasn’t “there” all the time. We thought Nico Salva was too mayabang. Si Ryan Buenafe? Saktong angas lang. Swag kung swag.[8]

“Ryan Buenafe reminds me of the old Ateneo heroes. Skillful as Enrico. Clutch as Larry. With the swagger of Wesley!” Miguel Timan, a 2010 graduate of the Loyola Schools, explains his fanboyism.

See, a boy’s love for basketball starts to mature between the ages of twelve and fourteen. For my generation, that’s the time when the Ateneo Basketball Program started to matter, even make waves again. So we grew up loving the way the Champion Season 65 Blue Eagles played the game. We loved how Andrew Cruz looked like one hombre you didn’t want to mess with. It’s the exact same reason why, when you play pick-up games against Pinoys in their midlives, you receive a lot of shots. Nakuha kasi nila ‘yun kay Jawo.

As Miguel Timan mentioned, Ryan Buenafe is a throwback player to my generation. His bevy of three-point celebrations harks to the way Enrico Villanueva celebrated dunks with jersey-pops and raise-the-roof’s.[9] He talked trash the way Wesley Gonzales did. He was uncanny during crunchtime the way Larry Fonacier and L.A. Tenorio were. In this era of college basketball, when everyone tries to be tweetums with each other even in the middle of an intense battle, Buenafe is different. He hates the idea of helping opponents get up off the floor — an idea championed by his teammate, Kiefer Ravena. He’s old school, and that’s why he resonated well with us.

Father Dacanay, the most popular Theology professor in Ateneo and Ryan’s close friend, sums it up the best. “Since he suited up for the Blue Eagles 6 years ago, I really thought he was a good player, unpredictable, unconventional, passionate, skillful. And in addition to that, he has a tinge of ‘angas’ which is I think the team we are playing against finds discombobulating. That gives character to his game. He is also not pikon, very professional in that sense. He does not allow the other team to get into his nerves, to upset him, to affect his game. He plays cool. It does not mean he his harmless. He is also a team player, not a ‘Terrence Romeo’,” Father Dacanay said recently in an email. “He is not the typecast stereotype Atenean. You cannot put him in a box; he is ‘unbox-able’ and I think that is what is so Atenean about him. The Atenean is creative at heart; creative not just about the things that he does but even about the way he goes about ‘being’. The eagle is the team mascot. That bird of prey flies best against the wind current, not with the flow, not according to expectations, not according to the typecast. I think Ryan is like that.”

There’s no denying that Ryan Buenafe had a very successful college career. The great moments. The adoration he got from the fans. And the four titles under his thick belt ultimately validate that. But all that obscure what might be the most important questions for Ryan Buenafe going forward: What if he worked harder? What if he bent his butt lower and slid his feet faster on D? What if he stayed after practice for extra work? What if he pushed himself harder? What if he chose salads over burgers and pizzas? What if he stayed in shape? Would it have taken him up to the last minute to decide to enter the PBA Draft? Would PBA coaches be saying, “Yes, Ryan will help a PBA team in need of a small forward right out of the bat,” — no ifs nor buts? Would he have a more secure future right now?

I guess we will never know for sure.

But if you got Jai Reyes saying, “He would’ve been better than Ray Parks, Kiefer Ravena and Terrence Romeo,” and if you got Bacon Austria saying, “He would’ve won at least one UAAP MVP if he worked harder,” then shit, sayang talaga, sayang.

Ryan Buenafe left a lot on the table — funny how ironic that sounds. He could’ve, should’ve, would’ve been one of the best college ballers ever if he cared more about his future. He’s the typical Atenean that can get a 4.0 GPA if he studied hard. But 4.0 isn’t fun. That would entail giving up a large chunk of time for absolutely doing nothing and for fun extra-curricular activities like partying, girls, hanging out with your boys to play the Rate The Girl That Just Walked By from One to Ten game, procrastinating, and girls. In Ryan Buenafe’s case, it’s eating, procrastinating, hiding in his closet and girls. He’s the typical Atenean that settled for an above-average 3.0 GPA (in Ryan’s case, the four championships), despite being fully aware that working hard in college typically converts to higher starting salaries in the corporate world (guaranteed rookie contract in the PBA).

So if Adam Sandler lent me his remote in Click, I would use it on Ryan Buenafe’s college career and press rewind. I would literally drag his fat ass to Moro Lorenzo’s weightlifting room right after every Blue Eagle practice. I would ask the Monstars to steal Tonino Gonzaga’s work ethic and somehow feed it to Buenafe. But that’s the thing about real life: you can’t press rewind and change a few things, and if you make a couple of poor decisions along the way, those decisions sometimes end up shaping the player or person you become. Ryan Buenafe will go down as one of the most adored Blue Eagles ever, but his potential in college should be remembered for so much more.

Buenafe says that he’s down to 240 pounds right now

The great thing about life though, is that you will get second chances.

When our one-pound cheeseburgers finally arrived, Ryan Buenafe immediately took out the buns and put it to the side. “Kailangan na eh. Para makalaro ako sa PBA,” he says.

Well, that’s a start Mr. Buenafe. That’s a start.

[1] FEU Assistant Coach Eric Gonzales: “Ay nako. ‘Yan si Terrence, grabe ‘yan kumain. Sobrang laki ng tiyan niyan hindi mo lang alam. Pero grabe yan mag-extra (work) pagkatapos ng practice.”

[2] When the secret source asked for his identity to not be disclosed, he said this to me: “Mahirap na magsalita ngayon. Mabango pangalan ni Ry.”

[3] Ateneo has an escalating QPI (quality point index) requirement. 1.8 for Freshies. 1.9 for sophomores. And 2.0 for juniors and seniors.

[4] Jai Reyes: “Tatlong beses ko lang ata nakita tumawa ‘yan si Ry.”

[5] Buenafe plateaued stats-wise after his rookie year. Check out his career stats:

Season 71: Mins 20.6, Pts 7.4, FG 38.8%, Rebs 2.6, Asts 1.7

Season 72: Mins 18.8, Pts 6.6, FG 39.4%, Rebs 3.6, Asts 2.9

Season 73: Mins 22.1, Pts 7.7, FG 40.4%, Rebs 5.1, Asts 3.4

Season 75: Mins 21.1, Pts 6.1, FG 31.7%, Rebs 4.6, Asts 2.5

Season 76: Mins 29.9, Pts 11.1, FG 29.8%, Rebs 8.2, Asts 3.29

[6] Norman Black was lying when he said that Season 75 was the sweetest championship. Season 73 takes it by miles. Ateneo was really young that year with a bunch of its core players being juniors. No one expected Frank Golla and Justin Chua to match Aldrech Ramos and Reil Cervantes. No one expected the Blue Eagles to win it all that year.

[7] How I wish the make out part was true.

[8] I actually randomly asked that question to about 30 guys from Ateneo between the ages of 20 and 36.

[9] Ryan Buenafe’s three-point celebrations: The You Can’t See Me (waves three fingers in front of his face ala John Cena, my personal favorite). The Slit The Throat Three (his latest). Puff The Cigar (he’d blow into the circle created by the thumb and the index finger). Three Goggles. Three Sweep (from James Harden)

Photos by Juan Benjamin Janeo, Alvin Lim, Philip Sison, theguidon.com, JENNERONG, Roy Afable of InterAksyon.com/InterAKTV

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