When I first started covering Philippine basketball over a decade ago, I kept hearing this legendary quote about one of our early pioneers: "He looked to be the biggest Filipino this side of Roman Gabriel, the old Los Angeles Rams quarterback. No referee had ever had a more difficult task." That description perfectly captures the unique challenge of ranking the 40 greatest players in PBA history - it's like trying to officiate giants. Every time I attempt this list, I find myself agonizing over placements, questioning my own criteria, and inevitably facing backlash from fans who have their own deeply held opinions about who belongs where.

Let me start with what I consider the undisputed top tier - the Mount Rushmore of Philippine basketball. Ramon Fernandez sits at number one in my book, and I don't think it's particularly close. The man they call "El Presidente" didn't just accumulate statistics - he dominated eras. Four MVP awards, nineteen championships, and over 18,000 points in a career spanning from 1975 to 1994. Those numbers still give me chills. Right behind him is Alvin Patrimonio, whose consistency was just supernatural. Four MVP awards of his own, all won consecutively from 1991 to 1994 - a feat I doubt we'll ever see repeated. What people forget is that Patrimonio played through what should have been career-ending injuries, including a severe back problem in 1997 that would have sidelined most players for good.

The third spot goes to Robert Jaworski, and here's where my personal bias might show. I never got to see him play live during his prime, but studying the archives and talking to those who witnessed his era convinced me he belongs here. The Big J wasn't just a player - he was a force of nature who fundamentally changed how Filipinos view basketball leadership. His statistics (approximately 12,000 points and 5,000 assists) don't fully capture his impact. When he moved from Toyota to Ginebra in the 1980s, he didn't just change teams - he transformed an entire franchise's culture and created what we now know as "Never Say Die" basketball.

Now we come to the modern greats, and this is where the debates get really interesting. June Mar Fapable at number four might surprise some traditionalists, but watching him evolve from a promising big man into the most dominant force in recent memory has been incredible. His PER of 38.7 during the 2019 Commissioner's Cup is the highest I've ever recorded in my database. James Yap at number five brings me to an important point about longevity versus peak performance. Yap's prime years from 2006 to 2010 were absolutely spectacular - two MVP awards, multiple championship shots that became instant classics, and that unforgettable 2009 season where he averaged 27 points per game in the playoffs. But what impresses me more is how he's adapted his game as he's aged, transforming from an explosive scorer to a savvy veteran who still contributes meaningfully at 41 years old.

The middle portion of this list from spots six through twenty is where I lose sleep every time I update these rankings. How do you compare the graceful efficiency of Bogs Adornado (three MVP awards in the 1970s) with the raw athleticism of Vergel Meneses (the 1995 MVP whose aerial artistry literally changed how Filipinos dunk)? I've settled on placing Adornado at six and Meneses at seven, though I'll admit this ordering changes depending on which historical lens I'm using that day. Then there's the curious case of Benjie Paras at eight - the only player to win both MVP and Rookie of the Year in the same season (1989). His combination of power and finesse was something we hadn't seen before and haven't seen since.

When we get to players like Allan Caidic at nine, I have to acknowledge my own viewing preferences. I'm a sucker for shooting technique, and Caidic's form was practically religious. His 79-point game in 1991 wasn't just a scoring outburst - it was a masterclass in footwork and release timing. Meanwhile, Johnny Abarrientos at ten represents what I consider the perfect point guard prototype. At 5'7", he proved that Filipino quickness and basketball IQ could overcome any physical limitations. His 1996 MVP season where he averaged 16 points, 6 assists, and 2.5 steals per game remains the gold standard for small guards in our league.

As we move into the teens and twenties, the distinctions become increasingly nuanced. Danny Ildefonso at eleven versus Asi Taulava at twelve comes down to championship impact versus longevity. Ildefonso's back-to-back MVP seasons in 2000 and 2001 were more dominant, but Taulava's ability to remain productive well into his 40s is something I deeply admire. Then there's the international success factor - players like Jimmy Alapag (thirteen) and Marc Pingris (fourteen) get bonus points in my system for representing the Philippines magnificently on the global stage.

The final twenty spots from twenty-one to forty present their own unique challenges. How do you weigh a brief but brilliant peak against sustained competence? This is where players like Willie Miller (two MVP awards but inconsistent defensive effort) slot in around twenty-one, while steady contributors like Eric Menk (the 2005 MVP whose fundamental excellence often goes underappreciated) land at twenty-two. I've also tried to account for players who changed the game tactically - RenRen Ritualo at thirty-three might not have the accolades of others, but his three-point shooting literally forced defenses to extend beyond the arc in ways they never had before.

What strikes me most about compiling this list is how each generation builds upon the last. The physical pioneers like Francis Arnaiz (fifteen) and Atoy Co (sixteen) who played through conditions that would be unthinkable today. The transitional figures like Jerry Codiñera (seventeen) and Olsen Racela (eighteen) who bridged the physical era to the modern game. And the current stars like Scottie Thompson (nineteen) and CJ Perez (twenty) who are still writing their legacies.

Ultimately, any ranking like this is inherently subjective despite all the statistics and film study I've poured into it. The PBA's rich history contains too many unique careers, too many contextual factors, and too many unforgettable moments to ever create a definitive list. But that's what makes this exercise so compelling - it's not about finding the right answers so much as honoring the questions. These forty players represent the soul of Philippine basketball, each contributing their own chapter to a story that continues to evolve with every passing season. As that old quote suggests, judging greatness in our sport has always been a difficult task, but it's one I'm privileged to undertake.