Looking back at the 2018 PBA Draft Combine, I still get that familiar thrill of witnessing raw talent on the cusp of professional careers. As someone who's followed Philippine basketball for over a decade, I've always believed combine performances reveal more than just statistics—they expose character, resilience, and that intangible quality separating good players from future stars. That particular year stood out because we weren't just evaluating college standouts; we were assessing athletes with international experience, players who'd already tasted high-level competition. I remember sitting courtside at Gatorade Hoops Center, watching these young men push through grueling drills, and thinking how different this draft class felt compared to previous years.
The physical measurements alone told an interesting story. Christian Standhardinger, who eventually became the first overall pick, recorded a vertical leap of 28 inches—not spectacular by PBA standards, but his wingspan measured an impressive 7'1" despite standing 6'8". What fascinated me more was watching his agility drills; for a big man, he moved with remarkable coordination that you don't typically see in locally-developed centers. Then there was Jason Perkins, whose shooting percentages during the combine drills were something special—he hit 82% from the charity stripe and 45% from beyond the arc during the structured shooting exercises. These numbers might not sound extraordinary on paper, but watching him maintain that consistency while fatigued from previous drills showed mental toughness that I believe translated well to his rookie season.
What really captured my attention that day was seeing players with international experience like Robbie Herndon and J-Jay Alejandro. Herndon's performance in the lane agility drill clocked in at 10.8 seconds—one of the fastest times for a guard his size. Having covered the ASEAN Basketball League previously, I'd watched Herndon develop his game against imports and regional talents, and that experience showed during the combine's scrimmages. His decision-making under pressure stood out markedly compared to players who'd only competed in collegiate tournaments. Alejandro, meanwhile, demonstrated exceptional court vision during the 5-on-5 segments that statistics can't fully capture. I recall one particular sequence where he threaded a no-look pass through three defenders that even had the scouts applauding.
The combine's psychological assessments and interviews—aspects fans rarely see—often reveal as much as physical performances. I had the privilege of speaking with several team psychologists afterward, and they noted how prospects like Trevis Jackson displayed remarkable composure during high-pressure simulations. Jackson's reaction time measurements ranked in the 92nd percentile among all participants, but what impressed me more was his performance degradation under fatigue—only 7% compared to the combine average of 15%. This mental resilience, I've observed throughout my career, often correlates better with professional success than raw athletic numbers.
Watching the big men drills, I couldn't help but compare the 2018 cohort to previous years. Raymond Almazan, who participated in earlier combines, set a high benchmark for mobile centers, but players like Michael Calisaan showed promising development in their perimeter skills. Calisaan's shooting form during the spot-up drills was unorthodox—I remember thinking it needed significant refinement—but his release speed measured at 0.48 seconds, among the quickest for forwards. Sometimes these quantitative measurements don't tell the full story though; his defensive rotations during scrimmages were consistently late, a concern I raised in my analysis that year.
The most fascinating cases are always the borderline prospects—players who might go undrafted but show intriguing potential. I vividly recall Jorey Napoles struggling in the conditioning tests but excelling in the scrimmage portions. His game-speed decision making seemed to override his combine numbers, particularly his assist-to-turnover ratio of 3.8:1 during full-court scenarios. This disconnect between drill performance and actual gameplay is something I've learned to watch for over years of combine observations. Sometimes the players who test poorly in controlled environments flourish when the structure disappears and instinct takes over.
Reflecting on that combine five years later, what strikes me is how accurately it predicted certain career trajectories while completely missing others. Standhardinger's combine performance suggested he'd become a quality starter, which he has, but I don't think any of us anticipated he'd develop into the MVP-caliber player he is today. Meanwhile, some athletes who tested spectacularly—like one participant who recorded a 38-inch vertical—never materialized their potential at the professional level. This humbling reality is why I've come to value game-simulation portions more than raw measurements over the years.
The international experience factor proved particularly telling in retrospect. Players who'd competed for the national team or in regional leagues like the SEA Games generally adapted faster to PBA pace. Their exposure to different styles of play and pressure situations gave them a maturity that showed during combine scrimmages. I remember thinking at the time that teams should weight this international experience more heavily in their evaluations, and the subsequent careers of several draftees have reinforced that belief. The global game requires versatility that domestic college competitions alone rarely develop.
As I compile my notes for upcoming draft analysis, the lessons from the 2018 combine continue to inform my approach. The numbers provide essential benchmarks, but the context—the international experience, the mental fortitude, the performance under simulated game conditions—often reveals the complete picture. That year taught me to look beyond the stopwatch and measuring tape to understand how a player's history and psychological makeup might translate to professional success. The PBA landscape has evolved since then, but the fundamental truth remains: combines don't just measure athletes, they reveal competitors.
