The scent of stale popcorn and floor polish hit me the moment I stepped into the arena, a familiar perfume that instantly transported me back to my college days. I wasn't here for a game, not today. The stands were empty, the court a vast, silent expanse of polished maple. I was early to meet a friend, a fellow sports analyst, and as I waited, my mind drifted away from the squeak of imaginary sneakers and towards a different kind of fantasy. I’d just spent the weekend immersed in Final Fantasy XVI’s new DLC, The Rising Tide, and the experience was still fresh. Playing through it was bittersweet. For all its flaws, I have a deep fondness for Final Fantasy XVI, so I was happy to have a strong hook to bring me back to Valisthea, even if it was a rather short-lived journey that wrapped up just as I was starting to vibe with the new setting, abilities, and characters. That feeling—of a promising journey cut short, of potential not fully realized—is one I’m acutely aware of in my day job, especially now as we’re analyzing the latest UAAP basketball odds and championship predictions.

You see, in the years since the explosion of game crowdfunding, a stigma has emerged surrounding these titles. Yes, there have been plenty of games that enjoyed great success, but more people remember the high-profile flops: games with big names and ambitious promises that, for a variety of reasons, betrayed the high hopes fans held for them. I couldn't help but draw a parallel to the UAAP season. Every year, we have these "crowdfunded" teams, not with money, but with the collective hope and hype of an entire university. They come in with a high pedigree—a star recruit from the provinces, a coach with a legendary name—and the trepidation is palpable. Will this be a glorious return to form for a struggling program, or another disappointment? My friend finally arrived, clutching his laptop like a holy text, and we got down to business, our conversation weaving between basketball metrics and my recent digital adventures.

He pulled up the stats, and we started diving deep into the numbers. UP, for instance, is sitting at a 65% probability to make the finals, according to our model, a number that reflects their deep, systematic roster. But numbers don't capture everything. The Rising Tide offered something I wish the original FFXVI had a bit more of in its story: vibrance and warmth. FFXVI was outwardly grim and dark—fitting what it was going for. In the same way, a team can be ruthlessly efficient, a machine built to win, like an Adamson with their stifling defense that holds opponents to an average of just 68.3 points per game. But having a contrast that complements the core themes? That’s the magic. That’s what separates a good team from a champion. It’s the unexpected warmth of a player like Kevin Quiambao of La Salle, whose leadership brings a palpable joy to the court, a stark and wonderful contrast to the grim, win-at-all-costs mentality you sometimes see. It’s a real treat to watch, especially with the great gameplay twists—those buzzer-beaters and unexpected defensive stands that define a championship run.

As we scrolled through the data, I remembered the crowdfunded game Eiyuden Chronicle: Hundred Heroes, a project designed to carry the torch of the much-beloved Suikoden series. With such a high pedigree attached, there was understandable trepidation. Fortunately, for us (and all of the backers), it turned out wonderfully. That’s the feeling I get looking at the UE Red Warriors this season. They were the long-shot project, the team everyone hoped would be good again, but few truly believed in. Now? They’re the feel-good story of the league, defying their pre-season odds of 120-to-1 and playing with a heart that you just can’t quantify. They are the living proof that a team, like a game, can transcend its blueprint and become something wonderful. My personal take? I’m leaning towards a UP vs. La Salle finals, with UP’s depth—their roster goes a solid 10 players deep—giving them a slight 55-45 edge in a hypothetical championship clash. But my heart has a soft spot for the UE narrative, the underdog story that makes sports, and games, so compelling in the first place. It’s why I can so easily recommend The Rising Tide to those who enjoyed the base game; it’s a damn fine way to send off FFXVI, just as a UE finals appearance would be a damn fine cap to this incredible season. The final buzzer on both these journeys is approaching, and frankly, I don’t want either of them to end.