Reliving the Epic 1997 PBA Finals: A Complete Game-by-Game Breakdown

I still get chills thinking about the 1997 PBA Finals. That series wasn't just basketball—it was pure theater, and I remember watching every game with my dad, who'd been following the league since the 70s. We'd argue about which team had the edge while munching on chips, and honestly, those nights shaped how I view basketball rivalries to this day. The finals pitted two powerhouse teams against each other, and what made it unforgettable was how each game unfolded like its own mini-drama, with momentum swinging wildly from one side to the other.

Game 1 set the tone perfectly. I recall the energy in the arena was electric, with fans on their feet from the tip-off. The final score was 98-95, a nail-biter that came down to the last possession. One team dominated the paint early, but the other clawed back with clutch three-point shooting in the fourth quarter. It reminded me of something I'd read recently from coach Tim Cone, who once said, "Chinese Taipei shot very well from the 3 and tonight, they (Tall Blacks) shot very well from the 3. So that's something we've got to try to solve and get better at going to our next game and to the tournament." That quote resonates here because, in Game 1, the three-pointers weren't just shots—they were momentum shifters. I've always believed that teams who excel from beyond the arc in high-pressure moments have a psychological edge, and this game proved it. The losing side, despite their strong interior defense, just couldn't adjust quickly enough, and it cost them the opener.

Then came Game 2, which felt like a completely different beast. The pace slowed down, and it turned into a defensive grind. Final score: 87-84, with the series now tied 1-1. What stood out to me was how the coaches adapted—one team focused on shutting down the perimeter after their Game 1 struggles, while the other leaned into their star player's isolation moves. I remember thinking, "This is where experience pays off." See, in my view, the best finals aren't about blowouts; they're about these subtle adjustments. Like Cone pointed out, solving the three-point problem isn't just about strategy—it's about reading the game in real-time. Here, the team that lost Game 1 made a crucial tweak, holding their opponents to just 28% from three-point range compared to 40% in the opener. That's a drop of 12 percentage points, which might not sound huge, but in a tight game, it's the difference between winning and losing.

Game 3 was where things got personal for me. I've always had a soft spot for underdogs, and this one delivered. The underdog team, down in the series, pulled off a stunning 102-96 overtime victory. The arena was deafening—I can still picture the confetti falling after a buzzer-beater three that sent it to OT. This game highlighted how unpredictable the finals can be. One player, who'd been quiet in the first two games, exploded for 35 points, including six three-pointers. It's moments like these that make me love basketball; no matter what the stats say, human emotion can override everything. Reflecting on Cone's insight, the winning team here didn't just "solve" the three-point issue—they weaponized it, hitting 15 threes at a 45% clip. That's nearly half their points from beyond the arc! In my experience watching decades of playoffs, when a team gets hot like that, it's almost impossible to stop, no matter how well you've prepared.

As the series progressed, Games 4 and 5 blurred into a back-and-forth battle that left everyone exhausted. Game 4 ended 91-88, with the series tied again, and Game 5 was a 95-90 thriller that gave one team a 3-2 lead. I remember arguing with my dad over coffee about which coach outsmarted the other. He thought it was all about defense, but I insisted the three-point shooting was the X-factor. For instance, in Game 5, the winning team sank 12 threes, while the losers managed only 7. That 5-three difference might seem small, but in a five-point game, it's everything. Cone's words echo in my head here—"getting better at going to our next game" isn't just a cliché; it's about learning from each possession. Personally, I think the team that adapted their perimeter defense after Game 3 deserved that win, even if it wasn't pretty.

Finally, Game 6 was the climax we all hoped for. The series ended with a 101-97 scoreline, and the champions celebrated amid a sea of confetti. What made this game epic was how it encapsulated the entire series: runs and counter-runs, with three-pointers deciding the fate. The winning team hit 10 threes at a 38% rate, while the runners-up struggled at 30%. Over the series, that adds up—I'd estimate the champions averaged around 11 threes per game, compared to 8 for the losers. In my opinion, that three-point disparity was the hidden story behind the trophy. Cone's focus on solving such issues isn't just about one game; it's about the long haul, and this finals proved that. Looking back, I can't help but feel that the 1997 PBA Finals were a masterclass in adaptation, much like how Cone emphasized learning from each performance. It's why, even today, I rewatch highlights and think, "That's how you build a legacy—one three-pointer at a time."