Uncovering the Legacy of the 1985 PBA Draft: Top Picks and Untold Stories
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I still remember the first time I heard about the 1985 PBA Draft—it was like uncovering a time capsule of Philippine basketball history. While researching for this piece, I came across Brandon Ganuelas-Rosser's recent double-double performance in Game 4, and it struck me how these modern achievements are built upon foundations laid decades ago. The physicality Rosser displayed reminded me of stories I've heard about the rugged style of 80s basketball, where players had to power through challenges without today's advanced training methods.
The 1985 draft class produced some of the most memorable careers in Philippine basketball, though many fans today only know the surface-level stories. What fascinates me most is how this particular draft came at a transitional period for the PBA—the league was establishing its identity while facing competition from other basketball organizations. I've always believed this context makes the 1985 selections particularly significant, though this perspective often gets overlooked in mainstream basketball discussions.
Among the top picks that year, Jack Tanuan going first overall to Great Taste remains one of the most intriguing stories. The 6'5" center from UE was expected to dominate, but what many don't know is that three other teams had tried to trade for that pick, offering what would now be considered laughable packages—one team reportedly offered two role players and 50,000 pesos, which even in 1985 terms seemed inadequate. Tanuan's rookie season saw him average 12.8 points and 9.2 rebounds, respectable numbers that don't fully capture his impact on court spacing and defense.
The second pick, Rey Cuenco to Shell, represents what I consider one of the great "what if" stories of that era. Cuenco showed flashes of brilliance during his first two seasons, including a 25-point game against Crispa, before injuries hampered his development. I've spoken with former teammates who described him as having the potential to be a prototype stretch-four before the position even had a name in local basketball. His career trajectory always makes me wonder how player development might have differed with today's sports science and medical support.
What truly makes the 1985 draft compelling, in my view, are the later picks that outperformed expectations. Take Manny Victorino, selected eighth by Tanduay—he developed into one of the most reliable big men of his generation, playing 14 seasons and winning six championships. His story reminds me of how modern players like Rosser develop through persistence; Victorino wasn't the most athletic player, but he mastered positioning and timing in ways that younger players should study today.
The physical style of that era fascinates me when comparing it to today's game. While researching this piece, I watched footage from 1985 playoff games, and the level of contact was astonishing—what would be flagrant fouls today were routine plays then. This context makes Rosser's ability to power through physicality in Game 4 feel like a continuation of that tradition, though executed with modern finesse. The 1985 rookies had to adjust to this brutal style immediately, with veterans testing them mercilessly during their first practices.
One untold story I've always found compelling involves the draft's fourth pick, Elmer Reyes, who nearly didn't enter the draft at all. His college coach had advised him to wait another year, but family circumstances pushed him to declare early. Reyes told me in an interview years later that he regretted the timing, believing another season in college would have better prepared him for the professional level. This personal history adds depth to understanding draft decisions—it's not always about basketball readiness, but life circumstances influencing career paths.
The business side of that draft also reveals much about the PBA's development. Teams operated with minimal scouting staffs—most had just one or two people evaluating talent, relying heavily on college reputations rather than detailed analysis. Player salaries ranged from 5,000 to 15,000 pesos monthly for rookies, with top picks receiving two-year guarantees that seem modest by today's standards but provided security in that era.
Looking back, I'm convinced the 1985 draft's legacy isn't just in the statistics or championships its players accumulated, but in how it reflected the league's growing pains. The successes and failures of these picks informed how teams approached future drafts, gradually implementing more sophisticated evaluation methods. When I see modern players like Rosser thriving in pressure situations, I see echoes of that 1985 class—players adapting to their era's challenges while laying groundwork for future generations.
The stories of persistence from the 1985 draft resonate particularly strongly when watching today's finals series. That physicality Rosser displayed while chasing his first finals appearance mirrors the determination of those 80s rookies fighting for their place in league history. Both eras share that essential quality of players pushing through barriers, though the nature of those challenges has evolved with the game itself. This continuity is what makes Philippine basketball history so rich—each generation builds upon the last while facing its own unique tests.