I remember watching that crucial tiebreak game last season where Kevin Alas, the Ejercito PBA player everyone's been talking about, faced off against the Thai team's relentless offense. What struck me most was how he handled that pressure-cooker situation - with Khonhan and Nilsawai firing on all cylinders, scoring practically at will. I've followed Alas's career since his college days, and let me tell you, that moment represented a complete transformation from the player he used to be. There was a time when he might have folded under that kind of scoring barrage, but what I witnessed was a veteran who'd completely reinvented his approach to the game.
The statistics from that game tell part of the story - Alas finished with 28 points, 9 assists, and 5 rebounds despite the 98-95 loss - but numbers never capture the full picture. What impressed me wasn't just his production but his decision-making throughout that fourth quarter. When Khonhan hit three consecutive three-pointers in a two-minute span, the old Alas might have forced up difficult shots trying to match him basket for basket. Instead, he did something I've rarely seen in my fifteen years covering Philippine basketball - he deliberately slowed the tempo, organized his teammates, and started creating higher-percentage opportunities. This strategic patience represents what I consider the most significant evolution in his game. He's transitioned from being purely a scoring guard to what coaches now call a "game manager," someone who understands time, score, and momentum better than anyone on the court.
I've had the privilege of speaking with Alas several times over the years, and his mindset shift is palpable. He told me during one offseason interview that he'd completely overhauled his training regimen, focusing 60% of his workout time on defensive drills and basketball IQ development rather than just offensive skills. "I used to think scoring was everything," he confessed, "but watching film of international players like Khonhan showed me that impact comes in many forms." This revelation came after what he described as his "lowest professional moment" - a playoff elimination where he scored 35 points but his team still lost by double digits. That experience, he said, forced him to reevaluate everything he thought he knew about winning basketball.
The physical transformation has been equally remarkable. Working with a specialized sports nutritionist, Alas dropped his body fat percentage from 14.2% to 8.7% while adding nearly five pounds of lean muscle mass. His vertical leap improved by three inches, and his sprint times in court-length drills decreased by approximately 0.4 seconds. These physical gains translated directly to that tiebreak game against the Thai team - even when exhausted in the final minutes, he had the lateral quickness to stay in front of Nilsawai and the leg strength to contest shots without fouling. I remember one particular defensive possession where he fought through two screens and still managed to challenge Nilsawai's jumper without making contact - that's championship-level fitness right there.
What many fans don't see is the mental work behind this transformation. Alas started working with a sports psychologist regularly after what he described as a "crisis of confidence" following an ACL injury in 2019. He adopted visualization techniques, meditation, and what he calls "situational rehearsal" - mentally practicing end-game scenarios repeatedly. During our conversations, he emphasized how this mental training helped him remain composed even when Khonhan was hitting seemingly impossible shots. "Instead of getting frustrated by their scoring run," he explained, "I kept reminding myself that basketball is a game of runs, and our opportunity would come."
The leadership dimension of his evolution might be the most impressive aspect. Watching him during timeouts in that tiebreak game, I noticed how he was actively coaching younger teammates, pointing out defensive assignments and offensive sets. This represents a complete role reversal from his earlier years when he was often criticized for being too quiet on the court. Veteran PBA coach Tim Cone once told me that the mark of a transformed player isn't just statistical improvement but the ability to make teammates better - and by that metric, Alas has become one of the league's most valuable assets.
Looking at his career trajectory holistically, I'd argue Alas represents a new breed of Filipino basketball player - one who combines local passion with global professionalism. His willingness to learn from international players like Khonhan and Nilsawai, rather than being intimidated by them, shows a growth mindset that I wish more local players would adopt. The PBA has traditionally valued scoring above all else, but Alas's transformation demonstrates that the modern game requires multidimensional skills. His journey proves that sometimes career transformation isn't about adding new strengths but about rebalancing existing ones.
As I reflect on that tiebreak game and Alas's performance, what stays with me isn't the final score but the quality of basketball he played under extreme pressure. While his team ultimately fell short, his individual transformation was undeniable - he'd become the complete player that Philippine basketball needs to compete at higher international levels. The Ejercito PBA franchise has built its reputation on developing homegrown talent, but in Alas they've cultivated something rarer - a player who continuously evolves. If I had to identify one lesson from his journey, it's that career transformation requires equal parts physical dedication, mental fortitude, and basketball intelligence. The beautiful part? At just 30 years old, his transformation story might still have several chapters left to write.