Luis Pablo was supposed to be that guy.
One half of the twin-tower dream from the De La Salle high school pipeline. Back in LaSalle Greenhills, he and Seven Gagate looked like the next big Taft frontline takeover—length, touch, and a mean streak that made high school gyms feel too small for their game.
By the time NCAA Season 98 wrapped, Pablo had posted a grown-man stat line: 15.7 points, 12.4 boards, and 2.3 assists, usually while punishing any poor soul who thought they could drive through his airspace. He and Gagate even finished first and second in the MVP race, which tells you all you need to know about how heavy that frontline really was.
Naturally, the story was supposed to continue in Taft.
They’d join Motor Mike Phillips and Kevin Quiambao, form some kind of an indefensible triple frontline madness, and carry La Salle’s next era of dominance.
But hoops stories, as we know, rarely unfold the way recruiting dreams do.
Both Pablo and Gagate took their talents to Diliman—a program hoarding blue-chip prospects like Pokémon cards, often forgetting that development and opportunity aren’t the same thing. And what followed was every coach’s cautionary tale about fit.
The greenhills twin towers became wallflowers.
Pablo logged just six minutes per game in the first round of UAAP Season 86. Four total points. Barely a rebound a game.
The once–most promising rookie was suddenly a rotation ghost, trapped in a guard-centric system that had no idea what to do with a guy who actually liked banging bodies in the paint.
At one point, he had had enough.
So he bounced.
Packed his bags.
And on February 2024, Luis Pablo came home to Taft.
It didn’t click right away. His old MVP shine didn’t grant him an instant starting gig. But when fate cracked open a door, when Mason Amos went down, Pablo didn’t just step through it, he kicked it off the hinges.
And the irony gods were grinning when his breakout came against UP, the same team that buried him.
He played like a man possessed, face bloodied, jersey untucked, matching every Maroon body blow with one of his own. 14 points, 6 rebounds, and a win that flipped La Salle’s season from survival mode to belief mode.
Then came the UST game, and Pablo doubled down.
This time, it was Espana’s tower of terror, Collins Akowe, in his crosshairs. Pablo neutralized him. Made him human.
Everytime Akowe banged against Pablo, he felt the insufficiency of his usual physical dominance. Akowe got rattled and banged into exhaustion.
And with Akowe gone, so was the growl of his Tigers.
And if the UP battle was grit and scratches, the UST game was his defensive highlight; the UE matchup was pure unadulterated domination.
With La Salle up by double digits, Pablo strung together back-to-back daggers that stretched the lead to 75–55, teaming up with rookie sparkplug Gian Gomez to slam the door on Recto. 16 points, 7 boards—another Player of the Game nod.
This wasn’t just a comeback.
This was that natural feel of the Animo flowing through your veins.
This was Pablo’s big relaunch, this time in is his home team donning his home colors.
Luis Pablo, the same kid once benched in Diliman, is now looking like the missing piece in Taft’s endgame push.
And as the Green Archers grind deeper into the eliminations, one thing’s clear—
La Salle’s rise will lean heavily on the broad, bruised shoulders of Luis Pablo.
ANIMO LA SALLE!
Tama!!
Derecho PABLO!
Derecho. LA SALLE!!