Reliving the Epic Moments of the 1998 PBA Season Highlights
I still get chills thinking about the 1998 PBA season—it was one of those magical years where everything seemed to align perfectly. As someone who has followed Philippine basketball for decades, I can confidently say that season was a masterclass in drama, skill, and unpredictability. I remember sitting in the stands during the All-Filipino Cup finals, feeling the electric energy as Alaska Aces and San Miguel Beermen battled it out. That series alone had more twists than a telenovela, and it taught me something crucial about sports: sometimes, the best moments come when you least expect them. This idea reminds me of a coaching philosophy I once heard from a seasoned mentor: "But ako as a coach, I lower my expectations because I want surprises." It’s a mindset that perfectly captures the essence of that unforgettable season—where lowering the bar didn’t mean settling for less, but opening the door to moments of pure brilliance.
The 1998 season kicked off with the All-Filipino Cup, and right from the start, it was clear this wasn’t going to be a typical year. Alaska Aces, led by the formidable Tim Cone, were the defending champions, but they faced a hungry San Miguel squad that had been retooling for a comeback. I recall watching Game 4 of the finals, where Alaska clawed back from a 15-point deficit to force overtime. The final score was 89-87, a nail-biter that showcased Johnny Abarrientos’s clutch gene—he dropped 24 points that night, including the game-winning layup with just seconds left. What struck me wasn’t just the skill on display, but the sheer unpredictability of it all. As a fan, I’d gone in expecting a straightforward Alaska victory, but San Miguel’s resilience turned the series on its head. It’s like that coaching mantra I mentioned—when you let go of rigid expectations, you allow room for surprises to unfold, and boy, did they ever. That game alone drew over 18,000 live spectators, a number that still gives me goosebumps when I think about the roaring crowd.
Then came the Commissioner’s Cup, which introduced a new layer of excitement with the addition of imported players. This was where Purefoods Corned Beef Cowboys, under coach Chito Narvasa, really made their mark. I’ll never forget their import, Derrick Brown, who averaged around 28 points per game and brought a level of athleticism that felt almost surreal. But what stood out to me wasn’t just the star power—it was how teams adapted on the fly. Take the Alaska Aces again; they stumbled early in the cup, losing three of their first five games, but they didn’t panic. Instead, they tweaked their defensive schemes, and by the semifinals, they were shutting down opponents with a ferocity I hadn’t seen since the mid-90s. This adaptability is something I’ve always admired in sports, and it ties back to that idea of embracing surprises. As a coach or even as a fan, if you’re too fixated on a specific outcome, you might miss the beauty of those unplanned, gritty comebacks. I remember chatting with a fellow analyst back then, and we both agreed that the 1998 season felt like a living, breathing entity—it refused to follow any script.
The Governor’s Cup was the grand finale, and it delivered one of the most iconic moments in PBA history: the Alaska Aces completing a rare Grand Slam by sweeping the San Miguel Beermen in the finals. Now, I know some purists might argue that the sweep made it less exciting, but for me, it was the culmination of a year-long narrative. Alaska’s Jojo Lastimosa was absolutely phenomenal in that series, scoring 31 points in the clinching Game 4, and the team’s defense held San Miguel to under 80 points in two of those games. Statistically, Alaska finished the season with a 72% win rate across all conferences, a number that still feels almost mythical. But here’s the thing—even as a neutral observer, I found myself rooting for the underdog at times, because that’s what the 1998 season was all about. It wasn’t just about the champions; it was about the smaller stories, like Pop Cola’s surprising run to the semifinals or the emergence of young talents like Danny Ildefonso. Reflecting on it now, I realize that my own approach to analyzing basketball shifted that year. I started focusing less on predictions and more on the moments that defied them, much like how a coach might lower expectations to welcome the unexpected.
Looking back, the 1998 PBA season wasn’t just a collection of games; it was a lesson in humility and wonder. The epic moments—from Abarrientos’s heroics to Alaska’s Grand Slam—were amplified because they felt earned, not inevitable. And that coaching philosophy I referenced earlier? It’s something I’ve carried with me ever since, whether I’m writing about sports or just enjoying a game as a fan. The 1998 season drew an average TV rating of 12.5% nationwide, a testament to how it captivated the entire country, and I’d argue it set a benchmark for drama and excellence that few seasons have matched since. Personally, I think the league’s golden era peaked around this time, and while others might point to different years, the raw emotion of 1998 is something I’ll always cherish. It’s a reminder that in sports, as in life, the best stories are the ones that surprise you—and if you’re open to them, they might just become the highlights you relive for decades to come.



