It’s no secret in local sports that elite collegiate basketball teams run like pro squads. They’re virtually autonomous, managing their own programs and personnel, attracting sponsorships, and landing lucrative brand deals.
But when tragedy strikes, as it did at Ateneo de Manila University, it exposes the dangers of letting a successful team become a self-governing unit.
Even before the devastating deaths of players Rene Baterbonia, 18, and Divine Adili, 21 — both of whom drowned during the Blue Eagles’ team building on June 8 in Dipaculao, Aurora — there had been red flags.
Reports of the Blue Eagles’ annual bootcamp in Aurora surfaced over the years, but players and coaches often refused to talk about the tough training in detail, only hinting that it’s where they form their brotherhood and winning culture.
In the past months, however, some former Ateneo players, now playing in the pros, described in podcasts how Ateneo coach Tab Baldwin’s “military training” tradition as “hell week” and even “deadly,” sharing one instance when a teammate almost drowned.
Baldwin did say back in 2017 — right after he steered the Blue Eagles to the first of four UAAP championships in the last 10 years — that the training was designed to “break the man.”
“It was built around the fact that it was very difficult for young men who are at the height of their physical prowess, all of whom have egos that are fed by loving parents, adoring girlfriends, adoring fans, victories along the way. And these egos need to be broken down and submitted to the whole purpose,” the American-Kiwi coach said.
“The best way to break ego is to break the man, reduce the man to a state where he can’t do things on his own, that he requires the assistance of others in order to accomplish something.”
Yet, it seems, no one from the university questioned this bootcamp. The training, no matter how ruthless, proved effective and translated to multiple UAAP men’s basketball championships.
Titles, as many school officials would attest, bring more than pride and prestige. Every basketball championship year for a university prompts a surge in student enrollment, bigger alumni donations, and more sponsorships.
It’s no surprise, then, why basketball teams become insulated by institutions. So much so that, over the years, it has perhaps become instinctive to protect the brand and uphold the image of the university’s most celebrated sports program.
Unfortunately, it seems that here lies the root of Ateneo’s undoing in this immense tragedy.
While Ateneo expressed its “profound sadness” over the tragic deaths of Baterbonia and Adili, the carefully worded statements, coupled with the absence of a visible figure from the school or the team, made it all appear that reputation management, for both the university and the basketball team, has taken precedence over grief, compassion, and transparency.
Ateneo’s statements — “nameless, faceless, and sterile official social media posts,” as lamented by the school’s very own faculty and staff — made it harder to see the school’s sincerity. Perhaps, made worse by a fourth statement, issued on June 11, when the university defended Baldwin’s silence.
Amid the backlash and social media vitriol, Ateneo said it asked the coach to “refrain from making public statements to allow the official process to proceed and the facts to be established before any public discussion of the matter.”
It’s a move that, again, came across as cold crisis management rather than genuine concern for the fallen players and their grieving families.
While there’s a need for due process, the gravity of the incident also demanded promptness and physical presence.
That’s why it still baffles many why the already anguished Baterbonias had to seek help from the Agusan del Sur governor to fly to Manila to be with their dead son, instead of Ateneo holding the family’s hand all the way.
While there’s no questioning the Ateneo administration’s own grief, its reluctance to come forward, to answer the hard questions, to hold people accountable, and to humbly absorb the public anger made it difficult for the families of Baterbonia and Adili to find clarity and comfort.
This tragedy essentially demanded humanity and honesty. But what many saw, instead, is an elite institution carefully protecting itself.
Sadly, in shielding the university and the basketball team, there’s just no winning. – Rappler.com


