Abra Weavers and the EASL Group of Death: An Unfinished Poem of the Apprentice

Tonight, the court whispers – and I hear the breath of basketball. Not the roar of the crowd or the shrill whistle. But a deep, muffled sound, like a ball bouncing on the old wooden floor of an empty gym. That is the sound of anticipation. And I, a 48-year-old man, still sit here, before the screen, following the draw for the fourth season of the East Asia Super League. My fingers tremble as I flip through the news, as if I myself am about to step onto the court. Abra Weavers – champions of the MPBL (Maharlika Pilipinas Basketball League) – will face Ryukyu Golden Kings (B.League), Taoyuan Pauian Pilots (P.League+), and Hong Kong Eastern in Group C. A group that even the most optimistic would call "tough." But I am not here to tell a sad story. I am here to listen to the breath of the apprentices. Imagine: Abra Weavers is a team from the mountainous region of northern Luzon, Philippines. They won the MPBL – a domestic league often considered a tier below the professional PBA. Their roster is a mix of former PBA veterans (Encho Serrano, Nico Elorde, Mike Ayonayon) and rising star Dave Ildefonso – the MPBL MVP. And now, they must face Ryukyu Golden Kings, a team that reached the B.League semifinals last season, and Taoyuan Pauian Pilots, runners-up in the P.League+ for two consecutive years. The gap in class is not just numbers on a standings table. It is a chasm. I remember last season's EASL. Meralco Bolts – a genuine PBA team – also fell into a group with Ryukyu and Taoyuan. Result: they were eliminated in the group stage, losing 79-88 to Ryukyu. Meralco had the leadership of Chris Newsome and Allein Maliksi, seasoned names. What about Abra? They have Dave Ildefonso, who plays for the Philippine national team, but has never truly played in a cross-border competition. And I ask myself: is the difference between an MPBL MVP and a B.League core player really that vast? The answer, based on what I have witnessed in 32 years of following Southeast and East Asian basketball, is: yes, and even more. The B.League plays at a higher pace, with more space, and deadly three-point shooters. Ryukyu Golden Kings, under their Japanese coach, are known for their fast-break style and flexible zone defense. Taoyuan Pauian Pilots, with a core of Taiwanese internationals, favor organized half-court offense, maximizing pick-and-pop opportunities. Meanwhile, the MPBL is a league focused on physicality, slow half-court basketball, where battles under the rim resemble wrestling matches. The tactical style difference could overwhelm Abra. But I am not writing to criticize. I write because of a counter-intuitive perspective: this very difficulty is a gift for Philippine basketball – and for Vietnamese basketball, should we one day have a representative. Because nothing makes a team grow faster than being defeated by stronger opponents. I recall my own story: in 2026, when I followed Hai Phong FC in the V-League, they were thrashed by Korean teams in friendlies. But those losses changed how they played. A year later, they were better, tougher. Despair, as I once said, is a form of transcendence. Look at Abra's roster. They have DJ Fenner, a young talent projected to be a first-round pick in the PBA Season 51 draft. He is using the EASL as a launchpad. And Kevin Quiambao, the star of Goyang Sono (KBL) and a pillar of Gilas Pilipinas, is playing in Group A. The presence of Filipino players in the EASL is not just Abra's story. It is proof that Philippine basketball is reaching out to the wider world, despite many thorns. And then, I think of Vietnam. Saigon Heat once competed in the ABL, but the EASL remains a distant dream. When will we have a team strong enough to enter this arena? When will the children in Can Tho, Da Nang, or Hanoi see their team face Ryukyu or Taoyuan? I don't know. But I believe that path begins with small steps, with the first defeats. Back to Group C. Abra's opening match is against Hong Kong Eastern at the SM Seaside Cebu Arena. This is a winnable game. Hong Kong Eastern is not the strongest team in the league; they did not reach the semifinals last season. If Abra wins, they will have a mental foothold. If they lose, they may spiral into one-sided matches with Ryukyu and Taoyuan. But regardless of the result, I still want to see Dave Ildefonso's smile as he steps onto the court. Because that moment, the moment an MPBL player first faces B.League stars, is when basketball becomes most beautiful. I remember a night in Saint Petersburg, at the 2026 World Cup, when a Belgian fan cried over Eden Hazard. I said: "Football is the only language that makes a stranger cry with you for 90 minutes." The same goes for basketball. Abra Weavers may lose, but they will not be alone. In the Cebu stands, Filipinos will sing, cry, and applaud. And I, from Hai Phong, will applaud with them – a ghostly applause, echoing through the screen, like an unfinished poem. Basketball is the most beautiful sadness I have ever known. And Abra Weavers, whatever happens, have begun to write a new chapter for Southeast Asian basketball. They deserve to hear that applause. Tonight, the court whispers. And I still sit here, waiting for the new season to begin.