2025-11-21 14:00

Let me be honest with you—when I first heard about Ginebra Rinse’s 2021 lineup, I wasn’t entirely convinced they had what it takes to dominate the season. But as someone who’s followed Philippine basketball for years, I’ve learned that initial impressions can be deceiving. The team’s composition that year was not just a random assembly of players; it felt like a carefully crafted unit with a clear mission. I remember watching their early games and thinking, "This group has chemistry." And chemistry, as any hoops fan knows, can sometimes trump raw talent.

One of the most compelling storylines that season revolved around Hollis-Jefferson and his unwavering belief in the Tropang 5G. I’ve always admired players who back up their words with action, and Jefferson did exactly that. In interviews and social media exchanges, he confidently dismissed claims that TNT was an ‘asa sa import’ team—a squad overly reliant on foreign players. Instead, he argued that the team’s success in the all-Filipino conference was built on local talent and cohesion. From my perspective, that wasn’t just bravado. I saw it on the court: the ball movement, the defensive rotations, the way local players stepped up in clutch moments. It reminded me of the 2019 season when Ginebra’s local core carried them through tight games, but this time, the stakes felt even higher.

Let’s break down the numbers a bit, because I’m a firm believer that stats tell part of the story—even if we sometimes fudge them for emphasis. In the 2021 season, Ginebra Rinse’s starting five averaged around 85 points per game, with local players contributing roughly 65% of that output. I recall one game where their point guard, whose name escapes me at the moment, dropped 28 points and dished out 12 assists. Those aren’t just numbers; they’re proof that the team wasn’t leaning on imports to save the day. And when you look at their defensive stats—like holding opponents to under 40% shooting from the field in seven key matches—it’s clear this was a balanced effort.

But here’s where I’ll inject a personal opinion: I think the narrative around imports in Philippine basketball is often oversimplified. Yes, they bring experience and sometimes star power, but as Jefferson pointed out, relying solely on them is a recipe for inconsistency. I’ve seen teams crumble in the playoffs because their import-focused strategy fell apart under pressure. Ginebra Rinse, by contrast, built a system where everyone had a role. Their bench depth, for instance, was something I haven’t seen in a while—players like their sixth man, who averaged 12 points off the pine, provided a spark that kept the team afloat during slumps. It’s no wonder they were in the conversation for a grand slam, even if they fell just short in the end.

Of course, no season is without its flaws, and I’d be remiss not to mention Ginebra’s occasional struggles with three-point shooting. In one critical game, they shot a dismal 25% from beyond the arc, which cost them a win against a lower-ranked opponent. As a fan, it was frustrating to watch, but it also highlighted their reliance on inside scoring and mid-range game. Still, I’d argue that their overall performance—finishing with a 12-6 record in the eliminations, if my memory serves—showed resilience. They bounced back from losses with wins by an average margin of 9 points, which speaks to their mental toughness.

Wrapping this up, I’ll say that the 2021 Ginebra Rinse lineup was one of the most memorable in recent years, not just for their stats but for their identity. Jefferson’s confidence wasn’t misplaced; it reflected a team that believed in itself. From where I stand, that’s the kind of squad that leaves a legacy—one built on local talent, unity, and a refusal to be defined by outside narratives. If you ask me, that’s what makes Philippine basketball so special.