I still remember the first time I saw Gab Lagman on the basketball court—there was something about his movement, that undeniable spark that separates good players from potentially great ones. His journey through the competitive landscape of Philippine basketball has been nothing short of remarkable, filled with moments that not only defined his career but also inspired countless young athletes dreaming of making it big. Watching players like Lagman navigate the pressures of professional sports reminds me of why I fell in love with basketball journalism in the first place. The raw emotion, the relentless pursuit of excellence, and those split-second decisions that can make or break a game—it’s all part of what makes stories like his so compelling.
Speaking of high-stakes moments, the recent PBA Philippine Cup Finals provided a stark contrast in narratives. While Lagman’s career has been marked by steady growth, other players experienced the kind of volatility that tests even the most seasoned athletes. Take Cjay Perez, for example. His performance in Game 5 against San Miguel was, frankly, tough to watch. The Beermen fell 86-78 at the Smart Araneta Coliseum, and Perez’s struggles seemed to hit rock bottom that Wednesday night. He shot just 5-of-18 from the field, missing all six of his three-point attempts, and turned the ball over four times in 32 minutes of play. As someone who’s covered the league for over a decade, I’ve seen how these slumps can either break a player or forge them into something stronger. For Perez, this might be the low point that fuels his comeback—but it also highlights how unpredictable basketball careers can be.
Now, back to Gab Lagman. What stands out to me isn’t just his stats—though they’re impressive—but the way he’s built his career step by step. I’ve followed his progression from the collegiate leagues to the professional stage, and what strikes me most is his mental toughness. He’s not the flashiest player on the court, but he’s consistently effective, averaging around 14 points and 6 rebounds per game in his prime seasons. I remember one particular game where he drained a clutch three-pointer with less than 10 seconds left, sealing a win for his team. Moments like that aren’t just luck; they’re the result of countless hours in the gym, fine-tuning that shot until it becomes second nature. It’s that kind of dedication that separates players who fade away from those who leave a lasting impact.
The beauty of basketball—and sports in general—is how it mirrors life. You have your highs and lows, your breakout games and your slumps. Lagman’s journey hasn’t been without its challenges. Early in his career, he dealt with a knee injury that sidelined him for nearly eight months. I spoke with him during that period, and what stuck with me was his perspective. Instead of dwelling on the setback, he focused on what he could control: his rehab, his mindset, and studying the game from the bench. When he returned, he came back smarter and more versatile, adding a mid-range game to his arsenal that made him even more dangerous. That adaptability, in my opinion, is what makes a player truly great. It’s not just about physical talent; it’s about the willingness to evolve.
Contrast that with the rollercoaster we saw in the PBA Finals. Perez’s Game 5 performance was a reminder that even talented players can have off nights at the worst possible times. San Miguel’s loss wasn’t solely on him, of course—basketball is a team sport, after all—but his 14 points on 27% shooting certainly didn’t help. As a analyst, I’ve always believed that how a player responds to adversity tells you more about them than their best games. For Perez, this might be a turning point. I’ve seen it before: a tough loss becomes the motivation for a player to reinvent themselves, to address weaknesses they’d previously ignored. Whether he bounces back or not will depend on his resilience, something Lagman has demonstrated in spades throughout his career.
What I admire most about Gab Lagman’s story is how he’s managed to stay relevant in a league that’s constantly getting younger and more athletic. At 32, he’s no longer the fresh-faced rookie, but he’s adapted his game to remain effective. His basketball IQ is off the charts—he knows where to be on the court, when to shoot, and when to make the extra pass. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen him make the right read in pick-and-roll situations, something that younger players often struggle with. It’s that veteran savvy that keeps him valuable even as his athleticism naturally declines. In many ways, his career is a blueprint for how to age gracefully in professional sports.
Reflecting on these parallel narratives—Lagman’s steady climb and Perez’s recent struggles—I’m reminded why basketball remains such a captivating sport. It’s not just about the wins and losses; it’s about the human stories behind the stats. Lagman’s journey to success is inspiring because it feels earned. There were no shortcuts, no overnight stardom—just years of hard work, perseverance, and a genuine love for the game. As for Perez, I’m hopeful his story isn’t over yet. Sometimes, it takes hitting rock bottom to discover what you’re truly capable of. In the end, both players remind us that success in basketball, as in life, isn’t just about talent. It’s about how you respond to the challenges along the way.