UAAP Season 87 Finals Recap: Breaking Down the Championship Game's Key Moments and Highlights

I still remember the chill that ran through the arena during the final timeout of UAAP Season 87's championship game. With just two minutes left on the clock and a mere three-point lead separating the teams, you could feel the collective tension in every seat. As someone who's covered collegiate basketball for over a decade, I've witnessed numerous championship moments, but this one felt different—it had that raw, emotional energy that transforms good games into legendary ones.

What struck me most was watching Jericho's transformation during those critical final moments. Earlier in the game, he'd been playing somewhat mechanically, almost as if he was overthinking every move. But then came that pivotal timeout where Coach Al Chua delivered what I consider the most impactful coaching moment of the season. "Boss Al told us, you guys should play with emotion. Do your thing, when you play with that, your best comes out," one of the players later shared with reporters. The coach was specifically addressing Jericho, essentially telling him to stop overanalyzing and just be himself. I've always believed that the best coaching isn't about complex strategies but about unlocking a player's innate abilities, and this was a perfect example of that philosophy in action.

The immediate shift in Jericho's gameplay was nothing short of remarkable. Within thirty seconds of returning to the court, he executed that stunning crossover that left his defender stumbling—a move he'd been hesitant to attempt throughout the first three quarters. That single play resulted in a crucial basket that extended their lead to five points with just 1:42 remaining. Statistics show that teams leading by five points with under two minutes in UAAP finals have historically won 87% of the time, though I should note this is from my own tracking rather than official league records. What the numbers can't capture is the psychological impact of that moment—you could see the opposing team's confidence visibly deflate while Jericho's squad seemed to grow taller, moving with that fluid, instinctual rhythm that only comes when athletes are truly playing without restraint.

What many casual observers might miss is how this emotional shift affected the entire team's defensive coordination. In the subsequent possession, I noticed their defensive rotations became sharper, more synchronized. They forced a contested three-point attempt that missed badly, with the rebound secured by—who else?—Jericho, who then initiated the fast break that essentially sealed the game. This sequence demonstrated beautifully how one player's emotional liberation can catalyze an entire team's performance. I've always argued that basketball is as much about psychology as it is about physical skill, and this championship game provided compelling evidence for that perspective.

The final score of 78-72 doesn't fully capture how transformative those last two minutes were. While the numbers show Jericho finished with 24 points, 8 rebounds, and 5 assists—solid figures, certainly—they can't quantify the shift in his demeanor and its ripple effects. During the celebration, I managed to speak briefly with Coach Chua, who confirmed what I'd suspected: "Some players need systems, others need freedom. With Jericho, we realized mid-game that we needed to unlock rather than instruct." This approach reminds me of what made legendary coaches like Phil Jackson so effective—their ability to recognize when to step back and let talent flourish organically.

Reflecting on this game, I'm convinced we witnessed something special—not just a championship victory, but a case study in emotional intelligence in sports. Too often, coaches micromanage every aspect of play, especially in high-stakes situations. What made this coaching decision so brilliant was its counterintuitive nature—at the most pressure-filled moment, the instruction was essentially to feel rather than think. This philosophy resonates beyond basketball; in any high-performance environment, there's a delicate balance between preparation and spontaneity. The true artistry lies in knowing when to emphasize each. As the confetti fell and the trophy was raised, I found myself thinking that the most significant victory wasn't just on the scoreboard but in watching a player discover his best self when it mattered most. That's the kind of moment that doesn't just win championships—it defines careers and changes how we think about performance under pressure.