When I first started following the PBA back in the early 2000s, certain players just had that special quality that made you sit up and take notice. Ed Cordero was definitely one of those players. His journey through the Philippine Basketball Association wasn't just about statistics or championships—it was about how he fundamentally changed the way people thought about the game. I've always believed that true legends aren't just measured by their scoring averages but by their lasting impact on the sport, and Cordero's career perfectly illustrates this principle.

Looking back at Cordero's playing days, what strikes me most was his incredible basketball IQ. He had this uncanny ability to read plays before they developed, something that reminds me of modern defensive specialists like Chris Ross. Speaking of Ross, I can't help but draw parallels between Cordero's era and the recent Game 2 performance where Ross completely disrupted TNT's rhythm with four steals. That's exactly the kind of defensive mastery Cordero brought to every game. When I watch old footage of Cordero playing, I see the same disruptive energy—the way he'd anticipate passes, the strategic fouls that never felt dirty, just smart. Those 17 turnovers TNT committed in Game 2? That's the kind of stat line that would have made Cordero proud because it shows how defense can truly dictate the tempo of a game.

Cordero's career numbers might not jump off the page compared to today's high-scoring era, but his contributions were monumental. He played during a time when physicality was more pronounced, and he mastered the art of playing tough without crossing the line. I've always appreciated players who understand that basketball isn't just about offense, and Cordero was the prototype for that balanced approach. His career spanned from 1975 to 1988, and in those thirteen years, he accumulated approximately 4,200 points, 2,800 rebounds, and around 650 assists—numbers that don't fully capture his defensive impact but still demonstrate remarkable consistency.

What many younger fans might not realize is how Cordero's game evolved over time. Early in his career, he was more offensively focused, but as he matured, he became this incredible two-way player. I see similar evolution in today's veterans—players who adapt their games to remain relevant. Cordero understood that longevity in the PBA required reinvention, and his willingness to embrace different roles throughout his career is something I wish more modern players would emulate. He wasn't afraid to take a backseat scoring-wise if it meant helping his team in other areas, particularly on defense where he truly excelled.

The business side of Cordero's career fascinates me too. His movement between teams like Toyota, San Miguel, and Shell taught me early on that basketball is as much about adaptability as it is about skill. When San Miguel manufactured 24 points off TNT turnovers in that recent game, it reminded me of how Cordero's teams would capitalize on opponents' mistakes. That strategic approach—turning defensive stops into easy offensive opportunities—was something Cordero's teams executed beautifully. They understood that every forced turnover wasn't just a stop; it was a potential two to four-point swing, depending on whether they scored on the ensuing possession.

Cordero's legacy extends beyond his playing days into his coaching career and front office roles. This transition from player to executive is something I've always found compelling because it shows a deep, comprehensive understanding of the game. Having watched numerous players try to make this jump, I can confidently say Cordero was among the most successful. His experience on the court directly informed his decisions off it, creating this beautiful continuity in his basketball journey. It's why I believe the best executives are often former players who understood both the technical and human elements of the sport.

Reflecting on Cordero's impact makes me think about how we measure greatness in basketball. We tend to focus on championships and scoring titles, but Cordero's case demonstrates that influence runs deeper. His defensive principles, his basketball intelligence, his leadership—these intangible qualities created a blueprint that influenced generations of Filipino players. When I see contemporary PBA stars employing subtle defensive tricks or making smart rotational decisions, I often trace those moments back to Cordero's influence on how the game is taught and played in the Philippines.

The errors that plagued TNT in their recent games—17 turnovers in Game 2, two more than their Game 1 count—would have been exactly the kind of situation where Cordero's presence would have made a difference. Either as a player disrupting the offense or as a coach making strategic adjustments, his basketball mind was always several moves ahead. This quality separates good players from legendary ones, and it's why Cordero remains relevant in PBA conversations decades after his retirement.

As someone who's studied basketball across different eras, I've come to appreciate how certain players transcend their statistics. Cordero's career highlights include multiple championships, All-Star selections, and that incredible 1982 season where he averaged approximately 14.2 points and 9.1 rebounds, but these numbers only tell part of the story. His real legacy lies in how he approached the game—with intelligence, adaptability, and relentless defensive effort. In today's PBA, where offensive fireworks often dominate headlines, I sometimes worry that we're losing appreciation for the defensive artistry that players like Cordero perfected. His journey reminds us that basketball greatness comes in many forms, and sometimes the most impactful players aren't the ones scoring the most points but those who understand the game's intricate rhythms and nuances better than anyone else.