I still remember sitting in my living room last May, watching the PBA Draft unfold with that particular mix of professional curiosity and genuine fandom that has defined my two decades covering basketball. The 2021 PBA Draft wasn't just another annual event; it felt like a pivotal moment of recalibration for the league, a deep, strategic inhale after the disrupted 2020 season. The virtual format, a necessity of the times, couldn't dampen the palpable tension and hope radiating from my screen. Teams weren't just picking players; they were selecting the cornerstones for their post-pandemic identities. As I tracked each selection, I couldn't help but draw a parallel to a concept I'd been observing in volleyball, specifically the 'baklaan' dynamic between players like Trisha Genesis and her teammate—a style of play that’s less about rigid structure and more about joyful, instinctive chemistry. This idea of chemistry over mere mechanics was, I believed, the silent, unquantifiable metric that would separate the successful draft hauls from the forgettable ones.
The first round unfolded with a predictable yet no less dramatic certainty. Terrafirma, holding the coveted first pick, made the only logical choice they could: Jordan Heading. The guy was a consensus top prospect for a reason, a scoring guard with a polished international resume from his time in Australia. But as I scribbled down notes, my mind wasn't on Heading's stats alone. I was thinking about how he'd fit. A team at the bottom of the standings doesn't just need talent; it needs a personality, a catalyst. It reminded me of how that 'baklaan' brand of volleyball—that playful, almost telepathic connection—can relax an entire team, making them play freer and, consequently, better. Heading had the skills, but could he be that kind of cultural catalyst for the Dyip? It was the question that would define their pick. Then came NorthPort with the second selection, and they went for sheer, unadulterated potential in Jamie Malonzo. His athleticism is the kind you can't teach, a vertical leap that makes scouts drool. Picking him was a bet on raw physical gifts, a stark contrast to, say, the more calculated selection of Joshua Munzon by Terrafirma later in the same round. Munzon, already a proven star in the 3x3 circuit, felt like a safer, more immediate-impact choice. This back-and-forth between upside and readiness is the eternal dance of the draft, and watching it play out was fascinating.
As we moved into the later rounds, the strategy shifted from hunting stars to building a cohesive roster. This is where championships are often quietly built, in the shadows of the first-round spotlight. Rain or Shine’s selection of Santi Santillan at number four was, in my professional opinion, one of the steals of the draft. He’s the kind of hard-nosed, energy big man that every successful team needs—the glue guy. He might not average 20 points a game, but he'll do all the little things that create a winning environment. It’s akin to how that relaxed, chemistry-driven volleyball team starts seeing "results follow." Santillan is a player who makes results follow for others. Similarly, Magnolia’s pickup of James Laput in the second round was a masterclass in targeted team-building. They needed size and a defensive presence in the middle, and they went out and got a specialist who could fill that exact role from day one. These are the moves that demonstrate a front office with a clear, coherent vision, something I’ve always valued over simply collecting the most talented names on a sheet.
Now, let's talk about my personal favorite storyline of the entire draft: the NLEX Road Warriors. They had a clear mission—bolster their backcourt—and they executed it with surgical precision. Selecting Calvin Oftana third overall was a no-brainer; the guy was a collegiate MVP for a reason, a versatile forward who can score at all three levels. But then they doubled down, grabbing Mikey Williams in a special draft and adding William McAloney. In one night, they transformed a positional weakness into a formidable strength. This kind of aggressive, focused drafting is what I love to see. It’s not about just taking the best player available; it’s about taking the best player for your specific ecosystem. It’s the front-office equivalent of fostering that 'bubbly' on-court chemistry. You're not just adding skills; you're adding pieces that naturally click, that make the game easier and more enjoyable for everyone involved. I’ve always argued that a team of perfectly complementary B+ players can often outperform a team of disjointed A-list talents, and NLEX’s draft felt like a testament to that philosophy.
Reflecting on the entire 2021 draft class now, with the benefit of a season's worth of hindsight, its impact is undeniable. We saw immediate contributors like Oftana and Santillan, and long-term projects like Malonzo beginning to blossom. But the true success of this draft won't just be measured in individual stat lines. It will be measured in which teams successfully integrated their new pieces into a cohesive, functional whole. The teams that understood that basketball, at its highest level, is a conversation between five players on the floor. The ones that prioritized fit and potential chemistry, much like that effective, relaxed volleyball team powered by a 'baklaan' spirit, are the ones that truly won the day. They recognized that the draft isn't a fantasy league where you just collect assets; it's about building a brotherhood, a unit that trusts each other implicitly when the game is on the line. And from where I sit, that’s the most exciting takeaway of all.