Good enough, never is. Winning the right way.
Those words have proven to be a mighty commitment that only a scarce few bind themselves to. In a world where haphazard work and mediocrity rule, taking pride in one’s craft seems a lost art. Single-mindedness of purpose appears to be an attitude of a previous age, along with chivalry and honor.
As I’ve said before, professionally I have not known a Philippine Basketball Association without Alaska Milk. The franchise (then under General Milling) entered the league the same year I became a broadcaster, in 1986. They were a mix of the old and new, for those first few years – a last hurrah for former Crispa players, a couple of Toyota veterans, and a bunch of youngsters. Inevitably, they would align their corporate vision with their actions, and define themselves by what they did and didn’t do.
Alaska Milk sought character more than skill. Players who misbehaved off the court did not last. The team chose to function at a standard that exposed character flaws that many chose not to change, causing them to leave. But the best players and persons stayed, until their value was too attractive to other teams. You could make two all-time squads with those who’ve donned an Alaska jersey. Many may not recall, but even team owner Fred Uytengsu has a spotless 1-0 record coaching in the PBA.
Excellence within eventually translated into excellence without. In the 1990’s, Alaska dismantled a strong team to build one that would be an indelible champion. They suffered through an incubation period as Tim Cone and the triangle offense took root. It all reached a crescendo with the Grand Slam in 1996. In that first conference, their import was sent home for ingesting a banned substance. An undersized, not yet in shape Sean Chambers rescued them. The rest seemed easier. Alaska became the first franchise to have three players on the Mythical Team (Johnny Abarrientos, Jojo Lastimosa, Bong Hawkins). The Flying A unseated Ato Agustin as the league’s smallest Most Valuable Player. All a testament to teamwork, synergy and transcendence.
Alaska has won the second-most championships in the PBA, represented the country in international competitions. The Milkmen were the first team to hand out championship rings to everyone who was part of their success, a tradition they continued despite the skyrocketing cost of gold. They had internal rules about dress and demeanor. Sneakers had to match the uniform. If they could only erase tattoos, they probably would have. Everything about them said “clean.” After all, they represented the ultimate children’s product. No bad examples. As the general public, we are thankful for that.
Now, we are left on our own to relive those spectacular, untainted memories. Those heroes of ours continue to serve as coaches, teachers, living examples. When faced with a challenge, we may unconsciously find ourselves asking “How would Alaska have done it?” And it’s up to us whether to rise to the challenge, or shrink from it.
Farewell, Alaska Milkmen. And thank you.