I still remember the chill that ran through the arena when our starting point guard went down with that ankle injury in Game 3. The medical team estimated he'd be out for at least 10-14 days, and honestly, most analysts wrote us off right then. We were down 2-1 in the series, facing arguably the most dominant defensive team in the league, and now our primary playmaker was sidelined. What happened next wasn't just basketball—it was a masterclass in preparation meeting opportunity.
Our coaching staff had a mantra that became our lifeline during those tense practices: "Dapat ready kami, dapat masipag kami." In English, it translates to "We must be ready, we must be hardworking." This wasn't just some motivational poster material—it was our operational blueprint. I recall our head coach gathering us in the film room after the injury news broke. Instead of panicking, he calmly pointed to our second-unit players and said, "This is why we've been running those extra drills since October. This is your moment." We had spent approximately 87% of our practice time that season on situational basketball, far above the league average of around 65%. That preparation meant our backup point guard, who'd been averaging just 18 minutes per game, stepped into 42 minutes of flawless basketball in Game 4.
What truly amazed me was how our role players transformed overnight. Our third-string center, who'd been getting maybe 8 minutes per game all season, suddenly played 28 crucial minutes in Game 5. He grabbed 14 rebounds—7 of them offensive—and honestly, I think that was the turning point of the entire series. The beauty was in how seamlessly everyone adapted. We didn't change our system—we just executed it with different personnel. Our shooting guard, normally our secondary scorer, took over playmaking duties and dished out 11 assists in Game 6. That's the thing about true preparation—it creates flexibility that opponents simply can't account for.
Looking back, I'm convinced our championship wasn't won in those final minutes of Game 7 when we hit that buzzer-beater. It was won during all those early morning shootarounds when nobody was watching, during the countless hours studying film until our eyes hurt, during the voluntary weight room sessions that turned our second unit into starters. The opposing team actually had more talent on paper—their starting five included three All-Stars compared to our one. But talent means little when you're facing a team that's fundamentally prepared for every possible scenario. Our coaching staff had prepared over 200 different situational plays, and I swear we used every single one during that series.
The final stat sheet showed we won by just 2 points, but the real story was in the details: our bench outscored theirs 48-22, we committed only 6 turnovers in the entire Game 7 (a playoff record, by the way), and we shot 92% from the free-throw line in the fourth quarter. Those numbers don't happen by accident—they happen because of that "dapat ready kami" mentality drilled into us since training camp. Even now, years later, that phrase gives me chills because it represents everything that championship team embodied. We weren't the most talented group to ever win an NBA title, but I'd argue we might have been the most prepared team in league history, and that's a legacy I'll carry with me forever.