I still vividly remember the 2012 PBA season as one of those turning points that made me reconsider how we evaluate basketball greatness. The MVP race that year wasn't just about statistics or team success—it became a fascinating study in how physical attributes, conditioning, and long-term thinking factor into player valuation. When June Mar Fajardo emerged victorious, many casual observers saw it as simply another big man dominating through sheer size. But having followed Philippine basketball for over fifteen years, I recognized something deeper happening.
The conversation around Fajardo that season often circled back to his physical advantages, perfectly captured in that now-famous quote from a team executive: "Basta malaki. Wag na nating pag-usapan," followed by laughter and then the crucial question: "Kaya naman namin, kaso ang questions are is he in shape and won't there be a problem in the long run?" This wasn't just offhand commentary—it reflected the genuine dilemma teams faced when confronting Fajardo's unique combination of size and skill. At 6'10" with a wingspan measuring 7'3", he presented matchup problems we hadn't seen since the era of Ramon Fernandez. Yet what made his MVP season special wasn't just that he was big—it was that he'd learned to move with purpose and efficiency that defied his frame.
Looking back at the numbers, Fajardo averaged 16.8 points and 14.2 rebounds per game during the 2012-2013 season, but these stats only tell part of the story. What impressed me most was his gradual improvement throughout the year—his field goal percentage climbed from 52% in the first conference to nearly 58% by season's end. This progression demonstrated something crucial about his work ethic and adaptability. Unlike some physically gifted players who plateau early, Fajardo showed consistent growth in his footwork, positioning, and basketball IQ. I've always believed that the true test of an MVP isn't where they start the season, but how much they improve their team and themselves along the way.
The significance of Fajardo's MVP win extends beyond individual accolades—it marked a shift in how PBA teams valued and developed local talent. Before Fajardo's emergence, the league had trended toward guard-oriented offenses and international imports handling the interior dominance. His success proved that homegrown big men could still dictate the tempo and outcome of games if properly developed. I recall conversations with fellow analysts where we debated whether his style could sustain championship-level success. Some argued his methodical pace would struggle against run-and-gun teams, but what they underestimated was how his presence forced opponents to abandon their preferred styles.
What often gets overlooked in discussions about that MVP season is the context of Fajardo's competition. He edged out established stars like Jayson Castro and Arwind Santos, both of whom had compelling cases. Castro averaged 18.3 points and 5.8 assists that season, while Santos contributed 16.9 points and 10.4 rebounds while providing elite perimeter defense. The voting wasn't unanimous—Fajardo received 38 first-place votes compared to Castro's 22 and Santos' 15—which shows how divided the basketball community was about what truly constituted "most valuable." Personally, I believed then and still believe now that Fajardo's impact transcended traditional metrics. His mere presence on the court created opportunities that didn't appear in box scores—double teams that opened three-point shots, altered driving lanes that disrupted opponent offenses, and a psychological advantage that made Petron Blaze Boosters play with more confidence.
The long-term implications of that MVP season have proven fascinating to track. That executive's concern about "problems in the long run" seems almost prophetic now, though not in the way he likely intended. Fajardo's subsequent four MVP awards and multiple championships have answered the durability question emphatically, but they've also created what I'd call the "Fajardo dilemma" for the league—how do you maintain competitive balance when one team possesses such a unique talent? This has sparked ongoing debates about draft reforms, salary structures, and whether the PBA should consider implementing a "supermax" contract designation for exceptional local players.
Reflecting on that 2012 season from today's perspective, I'm struck by how Fajardo's MVP campaign represented both continuity and change in Philippine basketball. He followed in the tradition of dominant big men like Abet Guidaben and Benjie Paras, yet his success came through a more modern approach to conditioning and skill development. The concerns about his long-term viability now seem almost humorous given his sustained excellence, but they highlight how difficult it is to project player development. In my years covering the league, I've learned that true greatness often reveals itself gradually, through consistent improvement rather than sudden explosions. Fajardo's 2012 MVP season wasn't just about being big—it was about learning how to make that size meaningful within the flow of the game, and in doing so, he reshaped how we think about basketball value in the Philippines.