The arena lights glimmered off the polished court as I squeezed past knees and popcorn buckets to reach my seat. There’s something electric about Game 5 of a PBA finals—the kind of tension you can taste, like ozone before a storm. Beside me, an older gentleman in a weathered Magnolia jersey kept muttering, “This is it, tonight’s the night we end the curse,” and honestly? I felt it too. For years, I’ve followed this league, watched teams rise and crumble under pressure, seen players become legends or footnotes. But last night… last night was different. By the time the final buzzer echoed through the Smart Araneta Coliseum, one question buzzed on everyone’s lips, in group chats, across social media: who won the PBA last night?
Let me paint the scene for you. Fourth quarter, under two minutes left. The score was tight—a real nail-biter, with Magnolia holding a fragile three-point lead. I remember clutching my lukewarm beer, thinking, “Not again. Please, not another ‘almost’.” See, I’ve been there myself—not as a pro athlete, no, but in my old marketing job, pitching campaigns that felt so close to groundbreaking, only to fall short at the last client meeting. That sting of “what if?” It lingers. And for Magnolia, that’s been the story for what felt like ages. But then, Mika Reyes happened. With 1:32 on the clock, she drove past two defenders, spun in the air like a ballet dancer with a killer instinct, and sank a floating jumper that sent the crowd into a frenzy. That shot didn’t just add two points; it felt like a statement. A release.
I’ve always admired Reyes—her grit, that unshakeable focus even when the odds stack up. Post-game, drenched in confetti and glory, she stood at the podium, Finals MVP trophy gleaming under the spotlights. Her voice cracked a little as she spoke, and I leaned in, because this wasn’t just another interview. “After years of dealing with one too many ‘almosts’ in pursuit of championship glory,” she said, pausing to scan the roaring fans, “we’ve had enough of the ‘what-ifs.’ Now, we look ahead to what can still be as newly-crowned champions.” Man, that hit me. It wasn’t just about basketball; it was about life, about shutting down those nagging doubts we all carry. I scribbled it down on my phone, knowing it’d stick with me longer than the final score.
And what a score it was—Magnolia Hotshots taking it 98-94 over the TNT Tropang Giga. Yeah, you read that right: 98-94. Paul Lee dropped 24 points, including five three-pointers that felt like daggers, while Jio Jalalon’s defense in the third quarter forced four turnovers in just under three minutes. Stats like that don’t lie; they tell a story of a team that refused to buckle. I’ve seen Magnolia lose heart in past finals—remember the 2022 Commissioner’s Cup? They led by eight with five minutes left and still collapsed. But last night, they played like they’d rewritten their DNA. No more hesitating, no more second-guessing. Just pure, unfiltered hunger.
Watching the highlights later on replay, I couldn’t help but grin. That alley-oop from Mark Barroca to Ian Sangalang with 48 seconds left? Poetry in motion. It sealed the game, pushing the lead to six and effectively slamming the door shut. My buddy texted me, “FINALLY!!” in all caps, and I replied with a string of fire emojis. Because isn’t that why we love sports? Those moments of collective catharsis? As I shuffled out of the arena, high-fiving strangers, I overheard a kid telling his dad, “They did it, Papa! No more what-ifs!” And honestly, that’s the beauty of it all. Magnolia didn’t just win a trophy; they buried a ghost. So, for anyone asking who won the PBA last night—it was more than a team. It was a lesson in turning almost into now.
