Why Dante Quit - "To Preserve Honor, Purity of Basketball" (Sports Weekly, 1979)

Sports Weekly Magazine

December 14-21, 1979

Dante Silverio

 

 

            For years, doubts had been cast on the integrity of our basketball games, particularly in the major leagues. My involvement in the sport over the last few seasons provided me with an intimate opportunity to confirm these doubts, which, in some ways, had led me to take certain actions against some of my players.

 

            For one, I did not renew the contract of Danilo Florencio because of suspicions that he purposely did not give his best in some games. Rather than entertain these doubts, I decided to cut off my ties with him.

 

            Now comes an identical situation. Only this time, not just one, but at least three players, are the ones at the other end.

 

            Ever since I refused to use Ramon Fernandez, Abe King and Ernesto Estrada at the start of the Third Conference, I had been constantly under pressure from all quarters. Everybody interested in basketball – the fans, my co-coaches, officials, the broadcast and print media, and even some of our management people – had wanted to know the reasons behind my move.

 

            I must say once again that my action against the three was based on my belief that they did not play their best on several occasions. So rather than worry about their possible action on the court, I deemed it better to keep them out of the team.

 

 

 

            I felt that by so doing, I helped preserve the purity and honor of the sport, which, I think, are more important than just winning.

 

            Without the three players, our team has reached the final, and in the process, has come close to proving my point. However, circumstances beyond my control have denied me the opportunity to continue my personal crusade. Our management has decided to give Fernandez, King and Estrada the chance to play again because it believes our club should not be left alone to carry the fight which other teams in the PBA should be waging collectively.

 

            Management may have other reasons for taking this action.

 

            I felt, however, that involvement in sport carries a duty to the public such as keeping it above reproach. Because of the difference in my belief and that of management, I feel it would be to the best interests of all parties concerned for me to relinquish the position of coach and manager of the Toyota basketball team effective immediately.

An Insider's Story: Why the "Absence" of Mon Fernandez, Abe King, Estoy Estrada (Sports Weekly, 1979)

Sports Weekly Magazine

November 30-December 07, 1979

Peter N. Acosta

 

 

Ab’sent (ab-sent) adj. – not present; not in a certain way; away        

                                                                                                                        Webster’s Dictionary

 

            The official line is they’re absent, which means, according to Webster, they’re “not present,” not in a certain place; away….

 

            “Let’s just say they are absent,” said Coach Dante Silverio by way of explaining why, in Toyota’s first game in the third conference against the GIlbey’s Gin, three of the team’s key men. Toyota’s ace Filipino slotman Ramon Fernandez, 1979 All-Filipino most improved player Abe King and veteran forward Ernesto (Estoy) Estrada, Toyota’s 1978 acquisition from Royal – were missing from the Toyota bench.

 

            It was pretty much the same thing when the Tamaraws, after scoring their first win in the series with a crackling 125-120 decision over the upset-minded Gins, went on to their second victory two days later, this time, a 137-113 romp over the Great Taste Discoverers, third place finishers behind Toyota in the second conference.

 

            Pressed once again by the boys along press row why Fernandez, King and Estrada remained out of the Toyota bench, coach Silverio fell back on his previous explanation.

 

            “The official word,” said Dante, “is that they are absent.”

 

 

 

            Other than confining himself to this cryptic remark, the 38-year old Tamaraw coach declined to disclose the real or official reason for the continued absence of the three players from the Toyota bench.

 

            From sources close to the Toyota camp, however, this writer learned that one probable reason Silverio had all but opted not to use the three in the current PBA series where undoubtedly, they could further boost Toyota’s offensive and defensive power and add more depth to the team’s bench, is Dante’s apparent lack of confidence in Fernandez, King and Estrada.

 

            It all began, SWM’s sources said, during the best of five playoffs between Toyota and Royal for the second conference championship eventually won by the Orangemen by the count of three games to one.

           

            SWM’s sources said that a careful review by Silverio of the performances of the three during the series and immediately afterwards when he studied videotapes of the four RTO-Toyota title playoff games led him to conclude that the overall performances of Fernandez, King and Estrada “left a lot to be desired in so far as consistency is concerned.”

 

 

 

            “Osbok (the way Silverio is called by his players) has been in the game too long and is all too familiar with the playing styles, moods and idiosyncracies of his boys to know when any of them is not playing up to par deliberately,”said SWM’s informant.

 

            “Obviously,” he went on, “he discerned such a letdown in the performances of the three players during the playoffs.”

 

            Talking of Dante, the man and the coach, SWM’s informant pointed out that “one thing about Dante is he is the kind of guy who feels that because he has always gone all out to give his players everything they want, he expects nothing less than reciprocity and absolute loyalty from them.”

 

            “He is a very trusting man,” he said, “but once he loses his trust and confidence in you, that’s it, you’re out of his graces.

 

            SWM’s informant believes that more than anything else, it was Dante’s feeling that he can no longer depend on Fernandez, King and Estrada to play every game in the third conference as he believes they should, that primarily led him to shelve all three men if such a move may well mean an uphill struggle by Toyota to go into the finals of a PBA conference which it had won two years in a row – in 1977 and 1978.

 

            “And I can’t blame him,” he said. “After all, what’s the use of having players on the bench whom you can’t trust to deliver or play as they should?”

 

            “It’s hard to say,” said SWM’s informant. “But right now, what best describes their standing in so far as Coach Silverio is concerned is that all three are in the cooler.”

 

            As to how long they’ll be “in the cooler,” he wouldn’t venture a guess. “It all depends on Osbok (Coach Silverio),” he said. “Only he can decide how long the three will remain absent or when they’ll finally be present.”

 

            As things stand, there are thus far no signs that Silverio has relented in his decision to can the three, all of whom hold new three-year playing contracts with Toyota.

 

            A review of Toyota’s rocky performance in its title playoff series with Royal showed that on at least two occasions, Silverio all but blew his top over the performances of several of his key players, notably Fernandez and King.

 

            At one point, he castigated them publicly, airing his ire over their “strange” behavior, especially when in Game 2 of the series the Tamaraws blew a 21-point lead to lose by five points at the windup.

 

            “You saw the first half?” Dante asked a sportswriter after the game. “Beautiful, no? The real Toyota game. And then came that terrible third quarter in six minutes, what we earned we threw away by errors, loose defense and overconfidence.”

 

            In the fourth game of the series, Toyota also led by as much as 21 points before leaving the match and the title, and one notable feature of this encounter was Dante’s decision to put Fernandez on a leash almost all throughout.

 

            It may not have been too apparent then, but the decision that was to stir a lot of speculations in the third conference may have been borne right then and there.

 

 

 

 

            Here’s a chronological account of how Toyota’s Ramon Fernandez, Abe King and Estoy Estrada found themselves in the “cooler.”

 

-       A week after the second conference title playoffs where Toyota lost, three game to one to Royal Tru Orange, the members of the team, including Fernandez, King and Estrada, were called to a practice session at the San Agustin gymnasium.

 

-       After the practice, team trainer “Legs” Legaspi, obviously under instructions from Coach Dante Silverio, informs Fernandez, King and Estrada that they are no longer to report to future practices and games of the team until further notice.

 

-       The following day, the three requested for a meeting with Coach Silverio, apparently to seek an explanation as to why they have been more or less canned. Silverio was busy that day but agrees to meet them the following day.

 

-       At the first face-to-face meeting between Silverio and the three, Dante confronts them with his grave findings regarding the letdown in their performances during their title series with RTO and some key games of Toyota in the past.

 

-       On November 20, the opening of the third conference where Toyota played and won over Gilbey’s Gin, Coach Silverio informs sportswriters who asked him why Fernandez, King and Estrada were not in the Toyota bench that “the official word is that they’re absent.”

 

-       And “absent” the three have been since, although they remain on the team’s payroll and continue to receive their salaries.

Philip Cezar: King of the Hardcourt (Sports Weekly, 1979)

Sports Weekly Magazine

October 12-19, 1979

Pyke F. Jocson

 

 

            Perhaps, he didn’t mind it. Or if he did, he never showed it at all. For one, honesty has always been the name of his game. And for another, he never gave a damn.

 

            Ah, that bloody question who’s really number one!

 

            Philip Cezar, Crispa’s elongated 6’3 forward-center, easily heralded as the closest contender to the throne occupied by Ramon Fernandez as the premier all-around cager in the PBA, is number two no more.

 

            He must have gotten tired of the calling. This mere shadow of Fernandez hullaballoo. It had always been like that. Since that very first time they came face to face, and of all things, as teammates in the 1972 RP Youth quintet, and as, would you believe, relievers to the country’s then prince of a slotman, Ed Carvajal.

 

            From that time on, although he had managed to steal the thunder from Fernandez once in a while, Cezar remained a notch less than the Toyota beanpole. It was like everything was fixed and rehearsed, Fernandez as ever first, and Cezar, an ever second.

 

            Until the fateful PBA Sprite One-on-One game came along, and Cezar suddenly found himself at par with the player many had obviously regarded as the best. “Of course, I wanted to win, that would be pure hypocrisy if I say I didn’t. But as seed two, I believed that the pressure wasn’t on me. Sinabi ko na lang sa sarili ko, laban lang. Basta I’d do my best, and if my best wouldn’t be enough, that’s okay. I didn’t have the illusion na kaya ko ‘to. In fact, when I learned about what Ramon said before our match, yun sabi niya kaya niya ako ng two games straight, sabi ko wala akong pakialam sa iniisip niya. He could think that way if he wanted to. Pero deep within, noon ko lang naramdaman, that was the only time I felt and realized that kung kaya niya ako, kaya ko rin siya siguro.”

 

            Cezar’s first game with Fernandez was a picnic. He toyed on the highly-favored seed one, 15-9. The second game and the eventual clincher for the Crispa cage star had the trimmings of a championship duel. Cezar pulverized Fernandez, 22-19, on an extended thriller.

 

            “Akala ko rin, kay Mon na ang second game. Seven seconds na lang at kanya pa ang bola, there was really no way for me to stop him. Pero nabigla rin ako when he tried for a jump. I was expecting of course na dadalhin niya talaga ang bola sa loob then fish for a foul. Kanya na talaga ang laro. But when he jumped and missed, I really went up for the ball. At the extension, sabi ko, siguro akin naman ito.”

 

            The slit-eyed player, who’d rather keep mum about all the dirty words they are saying about him and his game, saw no significance in solidly preparing for the one-on-one.

 

 

 

            “Ano ang dapat mo pang i-practice? Mas maigi kung papanoorin mo na lang ang kalaban mo sa iba niyang games sa one-on-one. That way, napag-aralan mo ang moves niya. Iba kasi ang situation sa one-on-one dito. In actual game, you still think of other opponents sa court, ‘yung bang na-fake mo nga, pero eto pa ang isang kalaban para salubungin ka. Here, it’s entirely different. You’re concentrated on only one opponent. Wlaa kang iniisip na iba. And you have to put into your mind so many things because of the different rules applied here.

 

            How he beat Fernandez is a story in itself.

 

            “Alam kong mahusay siya sa ilalim, kaya I never really pushed myself close to him. Pinabayaan ko siyan ma-libre at mag-attempt sa labas. I took that gamble. Kasi when I watched Mon’s game against Abet and Freddie, Nakita ko, pagpasok pa lang ni Mon, dinidikitan na agad. Eh dito magaling si Mon. Besides, two inches taller siya sa akin. Pag-nakapag-shift siya papasok, patay ka na. So, maraming beses siyang tumira noong jump na malapit. And in that kind of shot, your ball control is limited. “Yun bang alangan sa mahina at sa malakas ang bitaw. Pagtira naman niya, sa akin sigurado ang bola dahil naba-box out ko siya. And I noticed also one thing. Ang fault siguro ni Mon, he doesn’t want to be blocked. Ayaw niyang masupalpal. Kaya mas madali siyang ma-ilang. “Yung jump nga niya, nai-iba ang porma kung tina-try kong supalpalin. Ako naman, I don’t mind getting blocked. Sabi ko, kung masupalpal niya ako, hindi naman siya mabibigyan ng points dito. Kaya sige lang, I think this was one advantage I had over Mon.”

 

            As the newly-crowned one-on-one champion, Philip was awarded a trophy and a cash prize of Php 25,000.

 

            The big amount is there, okay, and who wouldn’t be happy with it? But from how I sized up Philip, from how I’ve known him to be, the trophy, the usually taken for granted award takes the bigger and greater significance in his victory than the cash prize.

 

            The trophy, for Philip, clearly symbolizes the honest truth that he is no longer number two.

Atoy Makes It but Many Ask: Was Fernandez Robbed? (Sports Weekly, 1979)

Sports Weekly Magazine

August 3-10, 1979

Vic Villafranca

 

 

Tradition ostensibly won over performance, myopia over 20-20 vision and last-minute backstage maneuvers over the weight of statistics when Crispa’s Fortunato (Atoy) Co came from behind to win the most valuable player race of the 1979 PBA All-Filipino over a heavily-favored Ramon Fernandez of Toyota and three other nominees for the bauble which carries with it a Php 50,000.00 cash prize.

 

            It was a black day for objectivity and fair play and the general reaction of the crowd at the Plaza presidential hall in Makati to the verdict ranged from total disbelief to total disgust.

 

            One of the judges in the panel of sportswriters, radio and TV men that rendered the pivotal decision in the contest, Ronnie Nathanielsz of GTV Channel 4, howled over what he described as “an obscene decision.”

 

            “I’m ashamed to be part of the group that was instrumental in carrying out what in my view was an obscene verdict and an unmitigated act of unfairness,” said a fuming Nathanielsz. “I wonder how those guys can sleep tonight or look at their faces in the mirror tomorrow morning.”

 

            Five feet away from where Ronnie ranted, Kitchie Benedicto of KBS, shook her head sadly.

 

            Beside her, TV director Bert de Leon asked, “what happened?”

 

            On the floor, a coach of a PBA ballclub which had tangled with Fernandez’s team in the last All-Filipino, put his arms around the poleaxed Fernandez and blurted, “Mon, you were robbed.”

 

            Rene Dalugdog, who represented the TV group in the media panel of judges, shook Fernandez’s hand and said he couldn’t understand what happened. “But I want you to know,” he told Fernandez, “that in my book, you should have been it, I voted for you and I voted in accordance with my conscience.”

 

 

 

            Announced by PBA Commissioner Leo Prieto, Co’s victory over Fernandez, Sonny Jaworski of Toyota, and two other Crispa players, Freddie Hubalde and Philip Cezar, drew only lukewarm applause from the crowd. There were hisses too, and some scattered boos.

 

            Asked what he thought of the crowd’s reaction, Jun Hizon, producer of the PBA games, said he felt “it smacked of indifference; no spontaneity whatsoever.”

 

            Hizon also observed that from what he observed of the winner’s actuations after he received the award, “It seems as if even Atoy himself Is not altogether happy over the way the whole thing turned out.”

 

            At the Vineyard pub, Rod Reyes, now of the National Media Production Center and formerly one of the country’s top sportswriters, said, “Nakakahiya.”

 

            Then also from Rod came the night’s oft-repeated question, “What happened?”

 

            Indeed, what happened?

 

            Going into the fourth and last phase of the four-tiered format of the race for MVP, Fernandez looked as if he had his first MVP all wrapped up with the way he outscored Co in statistical points garnered in the regular games of the last All-Filipino series and likewise in the All-Star games where both he and Co were participants.

 

            Fernandez finished ahead of Co with 2,856 statistical points against Co’s 2,726 in the All-Filipino. That SP total, which gave Fernandez 30 percent, was tops for this phase of the tilt. Co got 28.63 percent for his 2,726 points.

 

            As for their performances in the four game All-Star series, Fernandez was only second to Freddie Hubalde with his 381 statistical points against Hubalde’s 389, but Co fared worse. He finished fifth behind Hubalde, Arnulfo Tuadles of Toyota and Abet Guidaben of Crispa with his 302 SP’s.

 

            Overall, the statistical points earned by both Fernandez and Co showed the Toyota center 209 statistical points up on Co.

 

            Counting the 30 percent garnered by Fernandez in topping the popularity tilt put by the Don Cigarettes, Fernandez went to the awards dinner holding 69.79 percent of the whole cake, or a 4.43 percent lead over Co who had 65.36 percent.

 

            On the basis of all this, it would seem as if all that Fernandez needed to win was some kind of a reconfirmation by the media panel of judges of what the figures proclaimed.

 

            He never got it.

 

 

 

            Out of the 14 sportswriters and a representative each from radio and TV who cast their ballots for MVP, Fernandez only got 4 votes, while Co ran off with 9. There was one abstention.

 

            With his surprising win in the sportswriters’ ballot, Co finished with 95.36 percentage points against Fernandez’s 83.12%.

 

            It was a stunning, unbelievable reversal, a breakaway from a probable outcome of the race when gleaned in the light of statistics. “Incredible,” said one league statistician, expressing shock over the way the vote of the media panel went.

 

            Incredible it really seems to be, and it’s just too bad that because the media poll was by secret ballot, those who asked the pointed question – what happened? – will never get to know how Fernandez lost in the polling booth in what he appeared to have worked so hard to win on the hardcourt.

 

            Aside from Co, the other winners of silver cups and cash prizes for outstanding performances in the last All-Filipino were:

 

            Arnulfo Tuadles of Toyota – rookie of the year

            Abe King – most improved player of the year

            Tito Varela – most sportsmanlike player

            Crispa Coach Baby Dalupan – coach of the year

           

            Winners of slots in the league’s mythical selection were Fernandez, Co, Jaworski, Hubalde and Tuadles.

 

            Tuadles won out over Ronnie Albor of Honda, Bing del Rosario of Gilbey’s Gin, Ely Capacio of Tanduay, and Fritz Gaston of U/Tex, while King was chosen over a cast of nominees that included Rudy Lalota of Royal, Willie Tanduyan of Gilbey’s, Tito Varela of Crispa and Oscar Rocha of Honda.

 

            Varela got the nod over Tony Torrente of Royal, Larry Mumar of Filmanbank, Jesse Sullano of Honda and Mike Bilbao of Tanduay for the most sportsmanlike player plum.

 

            Dalupan had as his contenders the coaches of the eight other ballclubs in the league.

 

            In winning the 1979 MVP award, Co, who led the league in scoring and was credited as the first man in the PBA to score 5,000 points, approximated a feat he scored in 1976 when he was named pro basketball player of the year in the All-Filipino sports awards sponsored by Seven-Up.

 

But unlike ’76 when he made top pro honors without a breath of dissent from anyone, it was different this time around. For as Co will no doubt find out in the days to come, aside from winning the Wimbledon-style silver cup and a Php 50,000.00 paycheck, he also – through no fault of his own – lit the fires of another controversy in an already controversy-ridden PBA season.

The Night Toyota Made It 2 for '78 (Sports Weekly, 1978)

Sports Weekly Magazine

December 29, 1978 to January 05, 1979 issue

Peter N. Acosta

 

 

(Editor’s note: This game took place two days after Sports Weekly Magazine went to press last week for its Christmas week issue. Thus, our inability ot feature it – despite its significance – as our Game of the Week the last time around.)

 

The banner, the only one, first flustered in the stands when Toyota’s Big 3 – Francis Arnaiz, Ramon Fernandez and Sonny Jaworski – strung up an eight-point cluster to give the Tamaraws an 8-0 lead two minutes after the first quarter began.

 

But other than that solitary flag, there was nothing in the Toyota camp’s posture in game 4 of the best of five playoffs for the PBA’s third and last conference title of the year that would indicate that the Tamaraws’ fans felt this was “it”: the night when the Tams would finally make it back to the top of the conference they ruled last year.

 

As Toyota’s pinch-hitting coach, Fort Acuña, himself said: “Sure, we’re up, 2-1, but in a series like this, nothing is sure until the final whistle had blown and the scoreboard shows we’ve got it made.”

 

Old friends of Toyota who had earlier called the office of Toyota coach on vacation Dante Silverio to inquire where the victory party will be held were advised: “No plans yet. Anyway, it’s easy to stage a bash once we’re there.”

 

Toyota’s feeling of uncertainty despite its having won two games of the best of five playoffs to move a win away from the title figured.

 

For although the Tams won game 3 by 10 points after dropping the second game to the tough Tanduay Esquires, it was by no means a look-me-no-hands triumph.

 

Tough as nails since they came out swinging in their first-ever fling in a PBA title showdown, the Esquires had made the Tams work hard for the two wins posted by Toyota and now with their backs against the wall, they were expected to make it doubly tougher for Toyota.

 

But right off, when they got caught with their pistols in their pockets by an all-out Toyota barrage that sent them down by 8-0 after two minutes in the first quarter and then by 15 points, 30 to 15 at the end of the period, the Esquires were on the ropes.

 

 

 

Their problem was further compounded by the awful plight of their key import, Gene Moore, who, although he managed to play in game 4, just wasn’t his old aggressive self in both the defense and the battles for the rebound as a result of his still sprained right ankle.

 

With Moore in such dire straits, Carlos (Primero) Terry had a ball for the whole night, pumping in a game-high 36 points, hauling down 15 rebounds, making one assist, three blocks and two steals to lead the Tams to a 108-98 triumph.

 

For his part, Terry’s partner, second year Toyota import Bruce (Sky) King was equally as devastating against Tanduay’s David Payne as he came up with 19 rebounds to dramatize Toyota’s control of the boards and the match.

 

Despite the margin of their victory, however, the Tams felt the pressure all the way.

 

More so when in the final quarter, the Esquires inched to within 10 points off Toyota’s lead four times and then once to eight points before Terry, Jaworski and Bruce King put the game on ice with a 6-2 blast that sent the Tams beyond recall, 106-94, with the time down to 1:46.

 

Another twinner by Terry on a slam dunk against a pair of hits by Payne and the Tams had got it – the fourth game win that wrapped up Toyota’s fifth championship in a four-year PBA campaign, the second for the Tams in the 1978 season.

With the game and the title in the bag, the Tamaraw camp finally whooped it up, letting go of a cloudburst of confetti with only a minute left in the game.

 

The Toyota victory bash, however, was not held until two nights later.

 

The win elated Dante Silverio, who said it proved that the Tams could be competitive “so long as they give their best.” Adding that he prepared the team for a grand slam year in ’78, Dante said that although Toyota didn’t make its goal, he couldn’t ask for more.

 

Along with rookie Coach Acuña, Silverio got the traditional victory ride from his jubilant players.