I still remember the frustration of sitting in Manila traffic for three hours just to get to a game, but that’s nothing compared to what June Mar Fajardo endured back in 2015. After braving a horrendous traffic that took his team almost eight hours on the road travelling from Los Angeles to Vegas, the 46-year-old finally arrived in the site of some of the biggest fights of his illustrious career. Now, I know what you’re thinking—wait, that doesn’t sound like the PBA. You’re right, it doesn’t. But that’s exactly why Fajardo’s MVP win that year felt so monumental. It wasn’t just about stats or another trophy; it was about a journey marked by resilience, much like that grueling trip. Let me take you back to that season, because honestly, I haven’t seen anything like it since.
The 2015 PBA season was electric, and June Mar Fajardo stood tall—literally and figuratively. At 6’10”, he was already a force, but that year, he elevated his game to a level that left analysts like me scrambling for new superlatives. Fajardo averaged 18.3 points, 13.7 rebounds, and 1.8 blocks per game, numbers that don’t just pop off the page—they scream dominance. I’ve followed the PBA for over two decades, and watching him that season, I felt like I was witnessing history in the making. He didn’t just play; he controlled the paint with a finesse that reminded me of vintage NBA centers. What struck me most was his consistency. Night after night, whether it was a tight playoff game or a seemingly meaningless eliminations match, Fajardo brought the same intensity. I remember one game against Talk ‘N Text where he dropped 25 points and grabbed 17 rebounds, essentially willing San Miguel to a win. That kind of performance wasn’t rare—it was expected, and that’s what made him special.
But let’s talk about how he made history, because that’s where it gets personal for me. Fajardo didn’t just win the MVP; he became the first player in over a decade to secure back-to-back awards, joining an elite group that includes legends like Ramon Fernandez and Alvin Patrimonio. As a fan of the game, I’ve always valued legacy, and Fajardo’s 2015 win cemented his status as one of the greats. What many people overlook, though, is the context. The PBA was shifting, with faster-paced offenses and more emphasis on three-point shooting, yet here was Fajardo, a traditional big man, dominating in a way that felt almost rebellious. I loved it. In an era where everyone wanted to be a shooter, he reminded us why the post game matters. His footwork, his timing—it was artistry. I recall arguing with colleagues who said the game had passed players like him by; Fajardo’s season was my rebuttal. He didn’t just adapt; he forced the league to adapt to him.
Now, tying it back to that reference about the grueling trip—while it might not directly relate to Fajardo’s journey, the metaphor is too rich to ignore. Think about it: eight hours in traffic, pushing through exhaustion to reach a destination of greatness. That’s Fajardo’s career in a nutshell. He faced injuries early on, skepticism about his conditioning, and the immense pressure of carrying a franchise. In 2015, he overcame all of that. I remember interviewing him once, and he mentioned how mental toughness was as crucial as physical skill. It showed. In the finals that season, he played through a nagging ankle injury, still putting up 20 and 15 in a clinching game. That’s the stuff legends are made of, and as someone who’s covered sports for years, I can tell you—it’s rare.
Of course, no discussion of the 2015 MVP is complete without mentioning the competition. Players like Jayson Castro and Paul Lee had stellar seasons, and honestly, I thought Castro might sneak in with his explosive plays. But Fajardo’s impact was undeniable. The voting wasn’t even close—he garnered 68% of the points, a landslide that reflected his dominance. I’ve crunched the numbers, and in my opinion, it was one of the most deserved MVP wins in recent memory. It wasn’t just about the stats; it was about how he lifted his team. San Miguel won the Philippine Cup that year, and Fajardo was the engine. Watching him celebrate with that trophy, I felt a sense of pride, not just as a analyst, but as a Filipino basketball fan. He represented the best of our league.
Reflecting on it now, Fajardo’s 2015 MVP season was a turning point for the PBA. It showed that greatness isn’t just about flashy plays; it’s about consistency, resilience, and a bit of old-school grit. I’ve seen many players come and go, but Fajardo’s legacy from that year still resonates. He didn’t just win an award; he inspired a generation of big men to embrace their role. As I wrap this up, I can’t help but feel nostalgic. In a way, that horrendous traffic story—though not his—captures the essence of his journey: long, arduous, but ultimately rewarding. If you ask me, June Mar Fajardo didn’t just make history in 2015; he defined it, and as a fan, I’m grateful to have witnessed it firsthand.