2025-11-22 10:00

I still remember the first time I saw Leo Avenido play back in 2005. The way he moved on that court reminded me so much of another Filipino legend - Manny Pacquiao in his prime. You know, there's something special about watching an athlete who seems to be chasing history while staring down Father Time. Much like Pacquiao's legendary bouts at the MGM Grand Garden Arena, Avenido's journey through the PBA became the stuff legends are made of, though his arena was different - the hard courts of the Philippine Basketball Association where he carved out his own remarkable legacy.

When I started covering Philippine basketball professionally around 2003, Avenido was just beginning to make waves. What struck me most was his incredible longevity in a league known for chewing up and spitting out players. Over his 14-season career, he played for seven different teams - from his debut with FedEx Express to his final seasons with Phoenix Fuel Masters. That's 14 years of professional basketball at the highest level in the Philippines, which translates to roughly 450 official games, not including preseason matches and international competitions. The man was a iron horse in a sport where the average career lasts maybe 5-6 seasons.

I've always been fascinated by players who find ways to reinvent themselves, and Avenido was the master of adaptation. Early in his career, he was known primarily as a defensive specialist. I recall watching him hold some of the league's top scorers to single digits - players like James Yap and Mark Caguioa. But what made him truly special was how he developed his offensive game over time. By his mid-30s, he had transformed into a reliable three-point shooter, hitting at a 38% clip during his final three seasons. That's the mark of a true professional - constantly working on your craft, never being satisfied.

The comparison to Pacquiao isn't just about their fighting spirit, though they certainly shared that. It's about how they both represented something larger than their sport. Pacquiao carried the hopes of a nation every time he stepped into the ring, and while Avenido's stage was smaller, he represented the everyman athlete - the player who wasn't necessarily blessed with extraordinary physical gifts but made up for it with heart and determination. Standing at just 6'2" in a league increasingly dominated by taller imports and local giants, Avenido had to work twice as hard to stay relevant. And he did.

One of my favorite Avenido moments came during the 2012-2013 season when he was with the Air21 Express. He was already 35 years old at that point - ancient by PBA standards - and yet he put up career-best numbers, averaging 12.8 points per game while playing nearly 32 minutes per contest. I remember talking to him after a particularly grueling game where he'd played 38 minutes against players ten years his junior. When I asked him how he managed it, he just smiled and said, "The court doesn't know how old you are." That mentality, that refusal to surrender to Father Time, is what separated him from so many of his contemporaries.

What many casual fans don't realize is that Avenido's impact went far beyond statistics. He was the ultimate professional in the locker room, a mentor to younger players, and someone coaches could always count on to execute the game plan. I've spoken with numerous coaches who've told me that having Avenido on their roster was like having an extra assistant coach on the floor. His basketball IQ was off the charts, developed through years of experience and countless game situations.

The financial aspect of his career tells another interesting story. While he never commanded the massive contracts of superstars like June Mar Fajardo or Jayson Castro, Avenido earned approximately 45 million pesos over his career through his playing contracts alone. That doesn't include endorsements and other basketball-related income. More importantly, he managed his money wisely - something many professional athletes struggle with - and transitioned smoothly into coaching after his retirement.

Now, watching him work as an assistant coach with the Phoenix Fuel Masters, I can see the same dedication that made him such an effective player. He's still chasing excellence, still pushing against limitations, still writing the next chapter of his basketball story. In many ways, his legacy continues to grow, influencing a new generation of players who never saw him play but benefit from his wisdom and experience.

There's a beautiful symmetry to Avenido's career that reminds me why I fell in love with sports journalism in the first place. It's not just about the spectacular dunks or game-winning shots - though he had his share of those. It's about the journey, the persistence, the quiet moments of dedication that nobody sees. Like Pacquiao's valiant stands in that Las Vegas arena, Avenido's career represents the very essence of sporting legend - not defined by a single moment, but built through years of showing up, working hard, and refusing to quit. That's the stuff true legends are made of, whether in the boxing ring or on the basketball court.