Looking back at the 2013 PBA Draft feels like flipping through an old basketball yearbook where some faces remain vividly present while others have faded into nostalgic memories. I remember watching that draft ceremony with genuine excitement—the air thick with anticipation as teams prepared to shape their futures. Having followed Philippine basketball for over a decade, I’ve always believed drafts aren’t just about talent selection; they’re about legacy-building. And the 2013 batch? Well, it gifted us a mix of meteoric rises, quiet consistency, and a few what-could-have-beens.
Let’s start with the obvious: June Mar Fajardo. Picked first overall by the San Miguel Beermen, he wasn’t just a safe bet—he was a franchise-altering choice. I still recall skeptics questioning if his methodical, ground-bound style would translate in a league that often celebrated flash and speed. But my goodness, did he prove them wrong. Fajardo didn’t just adapt; he dominated. Six MVP titles and multiple championships later, he’s arguably the most successful top pick in the modern PBA era. Watching him evolve from a raw, towering prospect into a leader who commands double-teams every game has been one of the pleasures of my time covering the league. His durability, until recent injury setbacks, was almost supernatural—playing 422 consecutive games at one point, a testament to his conditioning and mental toughness.
Then there was the second pick, Greg Slaughter, chosen by Barangay Ginebra. At 7 feet tall, he was supposed to be the next big thing—literally. I’ll admit, I was among those who thought he and Fajardo would form a twin-towers rivalry for years. Early on, he showed promise—mobility for his size, a soft touch around the rim, and a Rookie of the Year accolade in 2014. But consistency proved elusive. While Fajardo piled up accolades, Slaughter’s trajectory plateaued. He left the PBA in 2021, and last I heard, he was exploring opportunities abroad, including a stint in Japan’s B.League. It’s a classic case of unfulfilled potential, and it makes you wonder how different things might’ve been with a different system or mindset.
The third pick, Ian Sangalang, taken by the San Mig Coffee Mixers (now Magnolia), has been what I’d call the “steady hand” of this draft class. He may not have Fajardo’s trophy cabinet, but his reliability is something coaches dream of. I’ve always admired his footwork and mid-range game—it’s old-school, effective, and often underrated. Through multiple conferences and a health scare in 2022, he’s remained a cornerstone for his team. While superstars grab headlines, players like Sangalang are the glue that holds franchises together. In my opinion, his career exemplifies how success isn’t always measured in MVPs, but in lasting impact.
But let’s not forget Raymond Almazan, selected fourth by the Rain or Shine Elasto Painters. His athleticism and shot-blocking made him an instant fan favorite. I remember one game in 2016 where he swatted three consecutive attempts—the crowd went absolutely wild. Though he hasn’t reached the superstar tier, he’s carved out a respectable career, later moving to the Meralco Bolts where he continues to be a defensive anchor. What fascinates me about Almazan is his journey from relative obscurity to becoming a key role player—proof that draft position isn’t destiny.
Now, here’s where I’d like to zoom in on an aspect many casual observers might overlook: the overseas journeys. Take someone like Matt Ganuelas-Rosser, the fifth pick, who later played for the Taiwan Mustangs in The Asian Tournament after a stint with the Gilas team of coach Tab Baldwin. I’ve always been intrigued by players who take the road less traveled—it speaks to their adaptability and hunger. Rosser’s time under Baldwin, in particular, seemed to refine his defensive instincts, and seeing him compete in international circuits highlighted a growing trend: PBA draftees aren’t just confined to local leagues anymore. They’re becoming global journeymen, and honestly, I love that. It adds layers to their careers and enriches Philippine basketball’s footprint.
Of course, not every story from that draft is about longevity. Some picks, like Alex Nuyles and Justin Chua, flashed potential but never quite cemented their spots. Nuyles, for instance, bounced between teams, his explosive athleticism sometimes overshadowed by injuries. It’s a reminder of how fragile careers can be—one moment you’re the future, the next you’re fighting for rotation minutes.
Reflecting on all this, I’d argue the 2013 draft was a tipping point for the PBA. It produced icons like Fajardo, reliable contributors like Sangalang, and cautionary tales like Slaughter. But more than that, it mirrored the league’s evolution—where local talent began intersecting with global opportunities. Ten years on, the top picks have scattered across different paths, yet their collective legacy is woven into the fabric of modern Philippine basketball. For me, that’s what makes drafts so compelling. They’re not just transactions; they’re time capsules, capturing hopes, what-ifs, and the beautiful unpredictability of the game.
