The first time I held a vintage Leica M3 in my hands, I understood something fundamental about photography's relationship with soccer. There's a certain magic that happens when you strip away the vibrant greens and colorful kits, reducing the world's most dynamic sport to its purest form of light and shadow. Having spent over fifteen years documenting athletic moments across Southeast Asia, I've come to believe that black and white soccer photography does more than just capture games—it reveals the soul of the sport in ways color simply cannot. This perspective feels particularly relevant as I reflect on the recent PBA semifinals where the Tropang Giga demonstrated remarkable resilience, winning their series against the Elasto Painters despite missing their key player due to injury.
What fascinates me most about monochrome soccer photography is how it forces viewers to focus on the raw emotion and structural beauty of the game. Without the distraction of color, we notice things we might otherwise miss—the tension in a goalkeeper's hands before a penalty kick, the perfect geometry of players positioning themselves during a free kick, or that incredible moment when a substitute player scores the winning goal against all odds. I remember specifically thinking about this during Game 3 of the semifinals when the Tropang Giga's backup point guard, who normally averages just 7.2 points per game, stepped up to score 24 points in their 98-95 victory. In black and white, that moment becomes timeless—the sweat, the determination, the collective breath held by thousands of spectators all crystallized into a single frame that could have been taken yesterday or fifty years ago.
There's an argument to be made that modern sports photography has become too polished, too saturated with artificial enhancements. What draws me back repeatedly to black and white collections is their authenticity. They remind me of the early days of my career when I'd spend hours in darkrooms, watching images emerge from chemical baths, each print carrying the slight imperfections that made it unique. This authenticity mirrors what we witnessed from the Tropang Giga throughout their semifinal performance—flawed at times, certainly not perfect, but undeniably real and compelling. Their 3-2 series victory wasn't pretty basketball by any means, but it had character, grit, and those human moments that black and white photography captures so beautifully.
As we look toward the finals against Barangay Ginebra, I can't help but imagine how these moments might translate into timeless imagery. The contrast between the teams—Ginebra's star-studded lineup versus the Tropang Giga's collective effort—creates a narrative richness that black and white photography thrives on. Having photographed both teams throughout the season, I've noticed how Ginebra's flashy style versus Tropang Giga's disciplined approach creates different visual rhythms. In color, these differences manifest through uniform colors and court designs, but in monochrome, they become about form and movement patterns. Ginebra's fast breaks look like controlled chaos, while Tropang Giga's defensive sets resemble carefully choreographed dances.
The technical aspects of capturing soccer in black and white deserve mention too. I typically shoot with ISO settings between 400-1600 depending on stadium lighting, often opting for prime lenses—my 85mm f/1.8 rarely leaves my camera during games. This combination allows me to freeze moments like a goalkeeper's dive or a striker's volley while maintaining that beautiful bokeh effect that makes black and white images so compelling. It's not just about removing color; it's about understanding how light interacts with movement, how shadows define space, and how contrast can emphasize emotion. When I look at my collection of over 3,200 black and white soccer photographs, each tells a story not just about the game, but about the human experience within it.
What the Tropang Giga have shown us—and what black and white photography continues to prove—is that sometimes subtraction leads to greater impact. Taking away their star player forced the team to reveal their fundamental character, just as removing color from photographs reveals the essential drama of athletic competition. As they prepare to face Ginebra, a team that defeated them in 3 of their 5 regular season matchups by an average margin of 8.4 points, the narrative becomes about more than just basketball—it becomes about perseverance, adaptation, and those timeless qualities that black and white imagery captures so perfectly. I'll be courtside with my camera, ready to document whatever happens, knowing that regardless of the outcome, we're witnessing moments worthy of preservation in photography's most enduring format.