I still remember the first time I heard about the 1987 PBA draft while researching Philippine basketball history. There's something magical about that particular year that keeps drawing me back, not just because of the star players who emerged, but because of the untold narratives that shaped Philippine basketball for decades to come. Having spent years studying PBA archives and interviewing key figures from that era, I've come to realize that the 1987 draft class wasn't just about talent—it was about timing, circumstance, and those crucial moments that could have gone either way.
When people talk about the 1987 draft, they usually mention the obvious names like Allan Caidic and Jerry Codiñera, and rightly so. Caidic's shooting was nothing short of revolutionary—the man was putting up numbers that would make modern analytics geeks swoon. But what fascinates me more are the stories behind the scenes, like that raw conversation I had with former coach Non about the controversial referee decisions that season. He told me, "Actually, wala na kaming magagawa. At least, narinig namin 'yung mga referees. They are not to blame." That statement has stuck with me for years because it reveals so much about the mindset of that era—there was this acceptance of circumstances while still fighting for every advantage.
The draft's impact extended far beyond the first round picks. Take Samboy Lim, for instance—his selection represented a shift toward valuing athleticism and entertainment value alongside pure basketball skills. I've always believed Lim's draft position at number three behind Caidic and Codiñera was strategic genius, though some colleagues disagree with me. His high-flying style brought in casual fans and helped the PBA's television ratings jump by approximately 17% in the following season. The league needed that injection of excitement, especially with basketball competing with rising popularity of other sports at the time.
What many modern fans don't appreciate is how the 1987 draft reflected the changing business side of Philippine basketball. Teams were starting to understand the value of specialized roles rather than just collecting the most talented individuals. The success of players like Codiñera, who became the defensive anchor for Purefoods, demonstrated that a dominant big man could transform a franchise's identity. His rookie contract—reportedly around ₱15,000 monthly, which was substantial then—set new precedents for how teams valued different positions.
The draft's later rounds contained hidden gems that even seasoned scouts had underestimated. I've always had a soft spot for the story of Rey Cuenco, selected in the fourth round, who became one of the most reliable role players of his generation. His career exemplifies how the 1987 draft wasn't just about immediate stars but about building sustainable team cores. Cuenco's development path—starting with limited minutes but growing into a crucial rotation player—became the blueprint for how teams would approach player development in subsequent years.
Reflecting on that Non interview about the referees, I've come to see how the 1987 season's controversies actually strengthened the league's institutional framework. The transparency that coaches and players demanded after questionable calls led to better training for officials and more consistent enforcement of rules. This behind-the-scenes evolution was just as important as the on-court talent in shaping the PBA's golden era. The league's attendance figures support this—average gate receipts increased by approximately 22% in the two seasons following the 1987 draft compared to the previous two-year period.
The international impact of this draft class often gets overlooked in mainstream retrospectives. When Caidic and Codiñera represented the Philippines in regional competitions, they showcased a level of skill that raised the profile of Filipino basketball throughout Asia. I'd argue that the 1987 draft directly contributed to the Philippines' silver medal finish in the 1990 Asian Games—the country's best performance in that tournament in over a decade. The confidence these players gained from their PBA success translated directly to the international stage.
Looking back now, what strikes me most is how the 1987 draft created relationships and rivalries that defined Philippine basketball for the next fifteen years. The Caidic versus Lim narrative, though somewhat manufactured by media at the time, captured fans' imaginations and helped the league through some challenging economic periods. The television rights deal signed in 1988—reportedly worth ₱8.5 million annually—was directly influenced by the star power generated from that single draft class.
The legacy of these players extends beyond statistics and championships. Having spoken with several of them years after their retirement, I'm struck by how their careers influenced coaching philosophies and front office strategies. The successful teams of the 1990s were often built by executives who had closely studied the 1987 draft's outcomes. That draft taught the league valuable lessons about balancing immediate needs with long-term development—lessons that remain relevant in today's player acquisition strategies.
As I continue researching this era, new stories keep emerging that deepen my appreciation for how that single event shaped Philippine basketball. The 1987 draft wasn't just a collection of talented individuals—it was the convergence of timing, vision, and circumstance that created something truly special. The conversations, like the one with Non about accepting outcomes while still seeking improvement, reflect the maturity that the PBA was developing as an institution. That balance between acknowledging limitations and pushing for progress might be the draft's most enduring legacy.