I still get chills thinking about that legendary 1997 PBA Commissioner's Cup Finals. Having followed Philippine basketball for over three decades now, I can confidently say that series represented a perfect storm of talent, drama, and pure basketball artistry. What made it particularly special was how both teams—the Gordon's Gin Boars and the Alaska Milkmen—carved such distinct paths to their championship showdown, much like how modern teams like the High Speed Hitters and Crossovers have engineered their breakthrough finals appearances in recent seasons.
The journey to that epic 1997 finale was anything but straightforward. Gordon's Gin, led by the brilliant coaching of Robert Jaworski, had to overcome a grueling semifinal series against Purefoods that went the full distance. I remember watching Game 5 of that series where they clawed back from a 15-point deficit in the fourth quarter. The numbers still stick with me—they shot an incredible 58% from the field in that final period while holding Purefoods to just 4 field goals in the last 8 minutes. Meanwhile, Alaska was methodically dismantling Shell in their semifinal matchup, winning the series 3-1 behind Tim Cone's triangle offense that was just beginning to show its full potential.
When the finals finally tipped off, what struck me most was the contrast in styles. Gordon's Gin played with that trademark "Never Say Die" spirit—hectic, emotional, feeding off the crowd's energy. Alaska, meanwhile, moved with mechanical precision, executing sets that would make Gregg Popovich nod in approval. The first two games split at the Araneta Coliseum, but Game 3 provided what I consider one of the most iconic moments in PBA history. With Gordon's Gin down by 2 with seconds remaining, Marlou Aquino—all 6'9" of him—stepped out to the three-point line and drained what remains arguably the most dramatic triple in Commissioner's Cup history. The stadium absolutely erupted, and I remember hugging complete strangers in the stands. That's the kind of magic that series produced.
The championship ultimately went to a decisive Game 7, which Alaska won 89-78 behind Johnny Abarrientos' masterful 24-point, 11-assist performance. People often forget that Abarrientos played through a sprained ankle suffered in Game 5, yet still managed to outduel his counterpart Vergel Meneses in the clincher. What impressed me most about that Alaska team was their depth—they had seven players averaging at least 8 points per game in the finals, compared to Gordon's Gin who relied heavily on their starting five. That balanced attack ultimately made the difference when fatigue set in during the final game.
Looking back, what made that 1997 finals so memorable wasn't just the basketball itself, but the narratives surrounding it. You had Jaworski, the beloved playing coach in what would be his last finals appearance, going against Cone who was establishing himself as the league's new strategic mastermind. The contrast couldn't have been sharper, and the games reflected that dichotomy perfectly. I've always believed that the best championship series tell a story beyond just the scoreboard, and this one had enough subplots to fill a novel.
The legacy of that 1997 showdown continues to influence how teams approach building their rosters today. We see similar strategic calculations in how modern franchises like the High Speed Hitters assemble their lineups—mixing veteran leadership with young athleticism, much like Gordon's Gin did with their core. Meanwhile, the Crossovers' methodical rise mirrors Alaska's systematic approach, proving that sometimes the most effective team-building happens gradually rather than through dramatic overhauls. Both philosophies can work, as that legendary series demonstrated twenty-six years ago.
What often gets overlooked in discussions about that finals is how it transformed the PBA's popularity. Television ratings peaked at 42% for Game 7—a number that would be unimaginable today in our fragmented media landscape. The league added three new corporate sponsors the following season, and attendance increased by nearly 18% across the board. I've always maintained that great championship series don't just crown winners—they elevate the entire sport, and the 1997 Commissioner's Cup did exactly that.
Watching current teams navigate their paths to the finals always brings me back to that special 1997 season. The parallels are striking—underdogs exceeding expectations, established powers refining their systems, and that electric atmosphere that only Philippine basketball can provide. While the game has evolved in many ways since then, the fundamental drama remains unchanged. That's why, even after all these years, I still find myself comparing every new finals matchup to that golden standard set back in 1997. Some memories just refuse to fade, and frankly, I'm glad they don't.