PAUL LEE AND JVEE CASIO: DIFFERENT ANIMALS, SAME BEASTS

The Paul Lee - JVee Casio thing has sort of taken a backseat to Gary David's scoring exploits and Rain or Shine's 12-deep offensive arsenal in the PBA Playoffs, but I still see the two young bucks doin' work. And the great thing about this is this debate is going to be great for years to come so we can still enjoy the Gary David show while it's still in the box office.

I personally like comparing and contrasting great players: MJ vs Kobe, Magic vs Bird, Jaworski vs everyone and what-have-you. Because at the core of this great game of basketball are the players, putting work into their own games so they can contribute to the team. If you want your team to be great, your game has to be on point, and Lee and Casio are some of the most talented rooks to ever step on the PBA floor. So The Lethal Weapon and GShock Casio make a great case when you pit these spitfire guards head-to-head.

I am a huge, huge fan of the spectacular Paul Lee. I became a believer when he crossed up his homeboy Eric Salamat on an iso and scored on a double-clutch layup with the foul in a UAAP elims game during Lee's first year. During that time Eric was crossing up every cat in the UAAP, and Paul virtually took the stage and declared "My homie's not the only guy who can break ankles." When Coach Lawrence Chongson handed him the keys to the UE Red Warriors offense, Paul literally went supernova on the league, leading the league in scoring, winning awards and breaking ankles. Defending him became a puzzle: he could torch you from long distance, or bully his way in the paint and score on your big man. At a strong 6'0", Lee was a monster for opposing guards, and he played with a certain Pinoy playground swag that assured teammates that if you give him the rock, he'll give you the chance to win. So get the heck out of his way. He has a quick trigger jumper, a thousand finishing moves around the rim, and dribble moves you only learn in playground pickup games. He's just that type of guy: his takeover play has been sharpened by the mean streets of Tondo where he mastered his daredevil drives and fantastic forays to the rim. His game screams "I'm the Man up in this joint. Basta bigay mo sa akin bola, ako ang bahala."

Jospeh Evans Casio is a different type of silent assassin. At 5'10" on a good day and in street clothes, and with a nickname that sounds like the name of a Pokemon, JVee's the poster boy for Milo's Best basketball aspirants: great basic ballhandling skills, passes first before looking for his own shot which happenes to be as smooth as silk, and with a schoolboy demeanour that never changes throughout the game, no matter the situation. Plus, after he silently drops 27 points on you on a vast array of jumpers and floaters, he'd smile at you and shake your hand after the game. Schooled by some of the game's most bemedalled coaches Ato Badolato of San Beda College and Franz Pumaren of De La Salle University, JVee is a coach's dream: a player who sticks to the plan and plays honest to goodness hoops, a basketball scholar who uses his smarts to overcome the game's greatest challenges. His moves may not be as spectacular as them cats on the playgrounds, but his game is so fundamentally grounded that he does ordinary things extraordinarily well. You know those crossovers, mid-range jumpers, and teardrop floaters are coming, but JVee's game is so smooth, defenders can't stop him. Just ask Iran, Korea, Chinese Taipei, Japan, and all them other dudes JVee schooled as a Gilas hotshot.

But at the core of Paul and JVee are competitors: ballers who care about nothing but the W. They may do it in different ways, but they want the same result. Paul Lee's hang-time pasabit layup gets two points just like Casio's off-the-screen 15 foot jumper. Lee's 30 foot three point bomb gets three points just like JVee's corner three off a David pass. Paul's no-look pass to a cutting Beau Belga for a deuce is an assist, just like JVee's basic shovel pass for a Doug Kramer layup.

When the game is on the line, JVee and Paul want the ball in their hands. They want the responsibility, the chance to win or lose, they want it on them. Just like when Lee hit a crucial triple against Ginebra and JVee got the hoop and the harm to cut RoS's lead to 1 in the 4th quarter, both players let out a primal roar. Underneath the cool, calm, and collected exteriors lie competitive beasts, who would do anything for the sweet taste of victory.

Lee and Casio play different games, but they want the same result. Lee will specactularly score in bunches. JVee will scatter points with surgical precision. But in the end, what matters to them is if they have another W, if they're the ones whose fists are raised in the end.

As to who's the better baller? I'm gonna postpone judgment on that. I'm going to enjoy the show first, coz these big time ballers are gonna be duking it out for a long, long time.

SALUTATIONS FOR A MENTOR: ELY "THE KITI-KITI KID" SUAISO

I've asked a lot of people to help me improve my game. My cousin Kuya Mark taught me how to shoot. My blockmate Paulo Parel tweaked my lay-up. My one-on-one games against my longtime homeboy Uzzi Asuncion help me test out moves I've been practicing. My shotblocking little brother Totep, all 5'9" of him and his near 5'11" wingspan, made me adjust my shot and practice different ways of scoring in the paint. But there's one guy I gotta thank, my main man Ely Suaiso, aka The Kiti-kiti Kid, aka The Captain. This guy taught me how to love and enjoy the game.

Kuya Ely is the best baller I've ever played with. He had hang-time moves, a mid-range jumper, and a behind-the-back dribble that always got me scrambling after him as he sashayed to the rim, laughing at me and the shot blocker he was going to embarass at the rim.

I remember one time we played 4on4 with a couple of guys, "Dayos" we'd call them coz they weren't from my 'hood, and they had this one ultra-athletic guy who made fools out of me and my other teammates. After racing to a 5 point lead, my main man Kuya Ely turned on the jets and put on a scoring clinic. And he did all his scoring while laughing and smiling at defenders who tried to stop him. Him and Kuya Tristan basically carried us to victory. Thus, The Kiti-kiti Kid's legend was made.

During an inter-church tournament, Kuya Ely showed me how he played like when he's serious. It was a complete 180 from the Ely I knew in pick-up games. This guy did not smile at all, drove stronger to the rim, and defended opposing guards with ferocity. Think Dwyane Wade in a 5'7" body, who made impossible dipsy-do layups and swatted shots of 6 foot centers. We lost in the finals though, but Kuya Ely stuffed the stat sheet. The Captain carried us when we needed him.

While I'm in awe of his take-over mode, the thing I really liked about Kuya Ely was his contagious joy when on the court when we played pickup games. He laughed, pulled down defenders' shorts, did cartwheels after he hit three-pointers, and flashed the Manny Villar pa-pogi sign as he hit fastbreak layups. He had all these sound effects when dangling the ball in front of me, then whipping it between his legs and behind the back as I tried in vain to steal the ball. I think we spent as much time laughing while we played from 6 in the morning to 1:30 in the afternoon.

He was also like the confident kuya for us youngsters back in the day. My favorite memory on the basketball court with him was one Easter Sunday game between us Youth and the Men from our church. I hit 12 points, 4-8 from three-point range, then my best career game hehe, all of em set up by my main man. After every shot I'd make, he'd jump into the air like them million-peso winners on noontime variety shows. When I missed my shot, he'd shriek in disbelief with matching facial expression, but then he'd tell me "Ayos lang boy! Bawi tayo boy!" as we jogged back on defense.

That joy on the court taught me how to love the game of basketball. If anything, Kuya Ely showed me how to really play - no problems, no baggages. When I step on the court, I check my problems at the door. "Wala munang problema-problema pag nasa court" I remember him telling me. The court then became my place of zen, my very own Fortress of Solitude. I am never more at peace, I never feel more alive than when I'm on the court playing basketball. Doesn't matter if I'm, the best player on the floor at the time, or the worst stinker of a turnover machine jacking up ill-advised three-pointers, the court is my sanctuary.

Few years later, I think I've improved, Kuya Ely. Dati center ako, ngayon guwardiya na :p Malapad pa rin ako, pero kaya ko na yung ibang bagay na ginagawa mo noon, wag nga lang mag-tumbling hehe. Kung di kita napasalamatan noon, eto sinasabi ko na: maraming salamat, Kuya Ely, salamat sa pagtuturo mo sa akin kung paano maglaro at mahalin ang basketball. Ang wish ko, makalaro kita minsan ulit, para makita mo ang resulta nang inspirasyong nakuha ko sa paglalaro mo :D