2025 FIBA ASIA CUP | GILAS PILIPINAS VERSUS NEW ZEALAND BLOG

FIBA.COM

It’s never easy watching a Gilas Pilipinas game after a rough day at work. You sit down hoping for a little national pride and emotional payoff, only to end up clenching your fists, yelling at the TV, and ask...

Why you do this to yourself?

Tonight’s loss to New Zealand? As expected. But unlike the frustrating Chinese Taipei game, there was something here—a semblance of a win.

A glimpse of fight.

Let’s start with the obvious: New Zealand is a tough squad. We knew that coming in. They punched us in the mouth early, raining down threes and putting Gilas on their heels by halftime. Credit to the boys—they recalibrated in the second half. But it still felt like the Tall Blacks were just toying with their food. You know that feeling when your team’s rally is more “allowed” than “earned?”

That.

And then the One Sports commentary team hit a nerve: Tim Cone’s tight rotation and complex system.

For years, we've seen players struggle to adapt to the triangle offense, and now it’s limiting the pool of players Cone can realistically use. It’s hard to plug-and-play in a system that requires months, if not years, of familiarity. That’s probably why CJ Perez—one of our most fearless, aggressive players—didn’t play at all tonight. Imagine that: a game crying out for energy and rim pressure, and we left The Baby Beast on the bench.

Carl Tamayo and Kevin Quiambao got decent minutes, which is good for the long-term, but you can tell they’re still feeling their way through the offense. Not their fault—it’s hard to find confidence in a read-heavy system when you’re still memorizing the playbook.

And then there’s Jamie Malonzo. He was suited up, but clearly not 100%. If he’s just there to fill a spot, then why not insert someone like Troy Rosario? He’s healthy, active, and wasn’t just handed a contract in Japan for nothing. If Malonzo is this window’s “Mason Amos”—a name on paper more than a factor on the court—then the selection feels more symbolic than strategic.

The conspiracy theorist in me believes his benching served as punishment for accepting the job offer.

But that's just me.

Moving on.

It’s scary how predictable we’ve become. The plays are visible to opposing coaches. The lineup decisions are safe. And we’re once again leaning on Justin Brownlee to do everything. The guy’s a warrior, but international basketball is about systems and second options. Where’s our shock trooper? Where’s the guy who enters the game and throws off the other team’s rhythm?

We need to find that guy. Maybe it's Kevin Quiambao. Maybe it's Carl Tamayo. Maybe it's someone else who hasn’t gotten their moment yet. But what’s clear is this: we can’t keep hoping Brownlee will rescue us every time.

Looking ahead, our do-or-die game against Iraq suddenly feels like a must-win playoff. They just lost to Chinese Taipei by 27 points. One team will exit the group stage at 1–2, and we better make damn sure it’s not us.

Because if we go home early, this campaign won’t be remembered for growth or development. It’ll be remembered as another chapter in the ongoing Gilas Pilipinas Stress Saga—one where promise was there, but pride was left wanting.