IN earlier days, it was entertainers—singers, bands, performers, dancers—who were lured by the Land of the Rising Sun.

These days it's the basukettōboru senshu (basketball players) whose talents are being sought after to shine in full display in the land of cherry blossoms.

In almost rapid fire fashion, our senses were jolted lately by news of more and more young basketball talents signing up to play for the Japanese pro basketball league. The one-two punch of the Gomez De Liaño Brothers—Juan and Javi—signing up, respectively, with Earth Friends Tokyo Z and the Ibaraki Robots suddenly alerted us on the possibility of a landslide of local cagers headed towards Japan.

The grapevine buzzed with other blue chip young players who were being targeted by the Japanese B League. Bobby Ray Parks, Jr. for one. Big Man Justine Baltazar for another. Kobe Paras. Ricci Rivero. Rey Suerte. Allyn Bulanadi. All the fine young men of Philippine basketball, to say the least.

The modern-day Japanese invasion started quite surreptitiously when Thirdy Ravena was singled out by the Japanese scopes and made to consider an adventure of the highest order to play in Japan. Thirdy was the first of his Gen Z tribe to make the big leap into the unknown when he signed with Japanese ballclub San-en Neophoenix in June 2020. He re-signed again with the team this year.

Some eyebrows were raised at his decision but most were wowed by the good fortune and international recognition he received. Admirers of Thirdy's game (aren't we all?) were genuinely happy for the mighty King Eagle whose last active moments on the televised court were still with the Blue and White.

The Thirdy move happened so fast, there was hardly enough time to react from the basketball powers that be. Besides, the young cager had no ties at all with the Philippine pro league. But this year, when Thirdy's brother, Kiefer, attempted to follow suit by taking up the offer of Shiga Lakerstars to play in the Japanese B League, the raised eyebrows turned into frowns and closely knit brows. Not so fast, Kuya, said the Philippine Basketball Association. Kiefer was reminded of his live contract with the NLEX Road Warriors, with whom he had just signed a three-year maximum deal. His hands were tied. The bind was legal.

True the PBA has all the legal right to stop Kiefer, said the pundits. But maybe the league should look at the matter from a bigger, more magnanimous, more progressive perspective. Kiefer may not be playing for the PBA, for the moment at least, but what an opportunity it would be for Philippine basketball. Playing for an international coach in a vibrant, highly competitive league can only make a player better. And what pride Kiefer and his brother would give to Filipino players in particular and Filipinos in general outside of territorial waters.

The threat to the PBA of losing more of its present and future stars became all too real with the Japanese adventure of Juan and Javi Gomez De Liaño. How many more brilliant young cagers will follow suit and look northeastward to fulfill their basketball dreams?

Until the recent past, ask any young basketball hopeful from the grassroots what his ultimate dream was and he would tell you: "To play in the PBA." But now, a veil seems to have lifted in the northeast. How many college standouts whose next logical step to glory is to someday graduate into the PBA are now thinking: "I'd like to play in the Japanese B League too some day." Kuya Thirdy and the GDLs have shown the way.

So that's the PBA dilemma. And to address the issue, it did appropriate soul searching.  Although the league may not be able to match the huge rookie salary being offered (we heard roughly P490,000 a month), it has abolished the Rookie Salary Cap so teams can offer blue chip rookies the MAX contract, unlike before. The PBA has also reduced the former 2 years grace period for players to be drafted after graduation to just one. But here's a tough one: expiry players who refuse to sign with a team that offers them a contract will have to sit out 5 years and pay a fine if they want to return to the PBA after playing in a foreign league.

Will that keep PBA players or future players from moving on to where they perceive the grass to be greener? We don't know.

What I know is that hanging a Damocles' sword on top of a player's head won't necessarily make him want to stay. Some people respond positively to threats or fear appeals. But others don't. The curious case of Terrence Romeo who chose to stay despite being the first PBA player to be offered a stint in Japan was not because he feared punishment from his ballclub or the league. His motivation was gratitude and a sense of utang na loob to his club owner, Ramon S. Ang, for taking him in and giving him a real home.

The Gen Z kids should not be blamed for wanting to play abroad and should not be faulted for not opting in favor of the local league. I think the doors should not close on them too tightly either should they want to return. It's like that proverbial case of the wronged spouse who gives his/her partner an ultimatum to "choose her or me." The doors will stay shut forever if there's no key.

For these young guys whose energies, talents and desire to showcase their pride as Filipino athletes have been frozen in limbo because of the pandemic, the opportunity to play in a normal, competitive environment like Japan is not just a leap of faith. It's a leap of joy.

Look at it as their opportunity to stave off rust, flex their muscles, show off their wares and strut Filipino pride on a bigger stage.

In the meantime, just get better. As attractive as greener pastures may be, there's really no place like home.

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