What Happened to Don Allado in the PBA and Where Is He Now?

I still remember watching Don Allado during his prime in the Philippine Basketball Association, that versatile big man who could stretch the floor before it became fashionable. His journey through the PBA landscape tells a story about professional basketball's evolution in the Philippines, and frankly, it's one of those careers that makes you think about what could have been under different circumstances. When I look back at his playing days, what stands out isn't just his statistical contributions—though he did average around 12 points and 7 rebounds during his best seasons with Alaska and Talk 'N Text—but how his career trajectory reflects the changing dynamics of Filipino basketball.

Allado entered the PBA with considerable hype after being selected second overall in the 1999 draft by Mobiline. At 6'6", he possessed that rare combination of size and shooting touch that made him a matchup nightmare during an era when traditional big men still dominated the paint. I've always felt his timing was both fortunate and unfortunate—he arrived when the league was transitioning toward more versatile frontcourt players, yet the basketball culture hadn't fully embraced the stretch-four concept that would later become essential. His early years showed tremendous promise, particularly when he helped Alaska win the 2000 Governors' Cup, but something seemed to shift around the mid-2000s. The numbers don't lie—his production dipped from those early career highs, and he began moving between teams with increasing frequency.

What fascinates me about Allado's story isn't just the on-court performance but the off-court narrative that gradually unfolded. Around 2011, he found himself at the center of controversy after some social media posts that criticized team management. This was during a time when athletes speaking their minds online was still relatively novel, and the backlash was immediate. Looking back, I can't help but think the league wasn't quite ready for players being that openly critical. The incident seemed to accelerate his departure from the PBA spotlight, though the exact reasons remain somewhat murky. Teams tend to be wary of players who rock the boat, even when they still have something to offer physically.

The reference to Chua's statement—"Siguro pagbalik niya, mag-uumpisa na siya. October pa naman 'yung liga"—always stuck with me because it captures that transitional period when Allado's PBA career was winding down. Translated, it roughly means "Perhaps when he returns, he'll start fresh. The league starts in October anyway." There's something poignant about that comment, suggesting both hope and uncertainty about his basketball future. By that point, he'd become something of a basketball journeyman, having worn at least five different PBA jerseys throughout his career.

After his PBA days, Allado didn't disappear from the basketball scene entirely—he resurfaced in the ASEAN Basketball League with the San Miguel Beermen, then later with Alab Pilipinas. This transition to regional leagues is becoming more common for Filipino players, but Allado was among the earlier adopters of this path. What many people don't realize is that he remained productive well into his late 30s, putting up respectable numbers of about 8 points and 5 rebounds per game in the ABL. I've always respected players who adapt their games as they age rather than simply retiring when their prime passes.

These days, you're more likely to find Allado on the business side of sports or pursuing entrepreneurial ventures. He's been involved in sports apparel and occasionally appears as a basketball analyst. Honestly, I appreciate when former players stay connected to the game through media work—they bring insights that career broadcasters simply can't replicate. His social media presence suggests he's found a good balance between his basketball past and his current interests, occasionally sharing thoughts on the modern PBA while building his post-playing career.

Reflecting on Allado's journey, I can't help but see parallels with other talented players whose careers took unexpected turns. The PBA has historically valued consistency and conformity, and players who deviate from that mold sometimes find themselves on the outside looking in sooner than their talents might warrant. Allado's story makes me wonder how many other players had their careers shortened not by declining skills but by clashing with basketball's established structures.

What's particularly interesting is how his game would fit in today's PBA, where three-point shooting big men are no longer anomalies but necessities. During his prime from 2000-2010, he attempted about 2.5 three-pointers per game at a 34% clip—respectable numbers that would likely be much higher in today's pace-and-space era. I've always believed timing plays an underappreciated role in athletic careers, and Allado's skill set arrived about a decade before it would have been fully maximized.

The business of Philippine basketball continues to evolve, and players like Allado helped pave the way for today's more outspoken athletes. While his PBA exit wasn't storybook, his persistence in finding other basketball opportunities demonstrates the resilience that often characterizes the most interesting careers. He played professional basketball for nearly two decades across multiple leagues—that's an accomplishment few achieve.

When I consider where Don Allado is now, it's clear he's transitioned into what many former athletes aspire to—a life beyond sports that still incorporates his passion. His journey reminds us that athletic careers aren't always linear, and sometimes the most compelling stories aren't about championships but about adaptation and reinvention. The PBA chapter of his life may have concluded earlier than expected, but the narrative continues in interesting directions that reflect both his personal growth and the changing landscape of Philippine basketball.