There is a quiet stillness in Cebu these days, the kind that makes you really listen to the hum of a distant electric fan, but Ramon Fernandez is busy reflecting. The 72-year-old basketball icon, who spent decades running up and down the court, is now taking in the news that he’s part of the latest Philippine Sports Hall of Fame induction class. Misryoum reports that the board of commissioners—led by PSC chairman Patrick “Pato” Gregorio—confirmed the list recently, and frankly, it feels long overdue for a guy with his resume.
He sounds genuinely touched when we talk, though he’s quick to deflect to the legacy of the game itself. “To be inducted into the Hall of Fame of Philippine Sports is something I never truly chased but quietly hoped I would one day be worthy of,” he told Misryoum. It’s funny how he phrases it—like a summit he didn’t realize he was climbing until he reached the top. He’s had a massive career, obviously. Nineteen championships in the PBA? That’s not a typo, that’s just a ridiculous amount of winning.
Alongside Fernandez, the list is stacked. We’ve got Onyok Velasco from boxing, Eduardo Pacheco, Isidro del Prado, Beatriz Lucero-Lhuiller, Cecil Mamiit, and Adeline Dumapong-Ancheta. It’s a mix of legends from all over the sporting map.
“Basketball gave me purpose. It shaped my discipline, my character, my will to fight through pain, through doubt, through every test that came my way,” Fernandez said. He started talking about the younger generation, how they shouldn’t look for perfect conditions—or maybe just look for a way to keep showing up. He mentioned June Mar Fajardo, too, a player he helped guide, almost as a side thought, like he was remembering a piece of his own puzzle he’d left in a drawer somewhere. The induction is set for 20 May, a date that seems to carry a bit of weight for him now.
His numbers are just absurd when you look at them on paper. 18,996 career points. The all-time scoring leader in the PBA. Four-time MVP. It’s the kind of career that makes you wonder how the floor didn’t just give way under him. He was the anchor of the 1989 Grand Slam San Miguel Beer team, a feat that still comes up in conversation whenever old-school fans gather to argue about the ‘real’ era of basketball. Actually, it’s not just the numbers; it’s the national team stuff too—the gold in the ’73 FIBA Asia Cup, the Beijing silver.
He sounds content, though. A bit tired, maybe, but content. He says this honor means he mattered, that the years meant something beyond the stat sheet. It’s a nice thought, really. We’ll see how the ceremony goes in May, but for now, he’s just enjoying the moment. Or as much as he can, anyway.