Before gaining prominence as the father of that jackass Borgy Manotoc, Tommy Manotoc was an acclaimed Philippine Basketball Association coach who won a grand slam in 1983 with the Crispa Redmanizers, coaching greats such as Abet Guidaben, Philip Cezar, Atoy Co, Freddie Hubalde, and Bernie Fabiosa, all of whom were named to the PBA's 25 Greatest Players list. Each of those guys save for Fabiosa also won an MVP award.

Today Manotoc takes a break from his golfing to weigh in on NBA and PBA basketball. While he gushes over Kobe Bryant and LeBron James, Manotoc has harsh words for the current crop of PBA players:

[The PBA] players play minus the passion we see in the NBA, where teams are motivated by the very people and communities they play for.

In the NBA, the game is treated with passion and purpose.

In the PBA, the game is a job.

The statement itself is not new. I've been hearing a form of this argument since before I started watching basketball, which would probably be around the time Manotoc was still banging Imee Marcos. Four-time MVP Mon Fernandez was accused of coasting through basketball games (and of point-shaving, but that's a whole other story), while Sonny Cabatu was famous for his takbong mayaman, leisurely jogging up the court like a rich guy after making a basket.

It's perfectly natural to prefer the NBA to the PBA; the players are more athletic, the teams are better-coached, and the games are played at a faster pace. But if you argue that NBA players display more passion than PBA players, not only is that total bullshit, but this next piece of information might come as a shock: you don't really deserve to call yourself an NBA fan.

Of course the NBA's conference championships would produce insanely entertaining basketball, because all that's left are the very best teams and the very best players. But let's see you get excited about a January game between the Milwaukee Bucks and the Charlotte Bobcats in a half-empty arena, featuring Charlie Villanueva launching 26-foot three-pointers like he was allergic to the shaded lane, and Boris Diaw playing like he can't wait for the game to end to get to his date with the busty blonde four rows behind the Bobcats bench (and really, who could blame him). Where will amazing happen then?

Chuck Klosterman wrote about this a couple of years ago, and argues that we should just live with it:

Most of the time, NBA games let us down. The pace always seem slower than we remember, and the intensity is sporadic, sometimes nonexistent. Weak-side players stand around doing nothing, while offensive black holes pound the ball and back people down the lane. Unlike [the] recollection of Dr. J's hanging reversal, most routine moments in a typical NBA game don't seem artful at all. Somehow, though, the perceived freedom makes people misremember what the game really looks like.

What results is a disenchantment cocktail: The NBA seems worse than we think it should be because we unconsciously believe it should be better than it is.

In that excerpt, you can replace "NBA" with "PBA" and "Dr. J's hanging reversal" with "Samboy Lim's kamikaze drive to the basket" and it'd be every bit just as true.

And yet, when the semis and the finals for the PBA roll around, the action heats up. Here's a list of the past few championships:

2009 Philippine Cup: Talk N Text beat Alaska in 7 games
2008 Fiesta Conference: Ginebra beat Air 21 in 7 games
2008 Philippine Cup: Sta. Lucia beat Purefoods in 7 games
2007 Fiesta Conference: Alaska beat Talk N Text in 7 games
2007 Philippine Cup: Ginebra beat San Miguel in 6 games

And you know what? Each and every one of those matchups was pretty goddamn entertaining.

But don't just take my word for it, watch highlights from Game 7 from the last Philippine Cup between Talk N Text and Alaska: