I still remember the first time I watched Greg Slaughter dominate the paint during his Ateneo days—the 7-foot center moved with a grace that seemed almost unnatural for someone his size. Back then, we all thought he was destined to become the PBA's next basketball legend. Fast forward to today, and his journey has taken more twists than anyone could have predicted. The recent comments from Ross about June not being the "focal point of the offense" during the Asian Games triangle system—where the offense catered around JB—somehow echoes what I've observed in Slaughter's own career trajectory. It's fascinating how certain offensive systems can either elevate or diminish a player's impact, regardless of their individual talents.

When Slaughter entered the PBA as the first overall pick in the 2013 draft, expectations were sky-high. His rookie season with Barangay Ginebra saw him putting up solid numbers—around 12.8 points and 9.2 rebounds per game if my memory serves me right. Those were promising stats for a rookie center in a league known for its physicality. I recall watching his early games and thinking he had the potential to redefine the center position in Philippine basketball. His footwork in the post was surprisingly polished for a player his size, and he had this soft touch around the basket that made him nearly unstoppable when he got position. But basketball isn't just about individual skills—it's about fitting into systems, and that's where things started getting complicated for Greg.

The triangle offense discussion that Ross brought up regarding the Asian Games situation with June and JB resonates deeply when I look at Slaughter's Ginebra years. Under Coach Tim Cone's triangle system, Slaughter often found himself in a similar position to what Ross described—not being the focal point of the offense. I've always felt the triangle requires specific types of big men, and while Slaughter had the skills, his style might have been better suited to a more traditional inside-out approach. There were games where he'd be dominating in the post early, then suddenly the offense would shift away from him. It reminded me of what Ross pointed out about offensive systems being catered around specific players—in Ginebra's case, the offense often ran through their guards rather than through Slaughter in the post.

His departure from Ginebra in 2020 surprised many, but to those of us who'd been closely following his career, the signs were there. The statistics tell part of the story—his minutes had decreased from about 28 per game in his second season to just under 18 in his final year with the team. But numbers never capture the full picture. I remember speaking with fellow basketball analysts during that period, and we all noticed how his role seemed to diminish despite his obvious talents. The PBA's evolution toward smaller, more mobile lineups didn't help either. Teams were prioritizing speed over size, and traditional centers like Slaughter were becoming increasingly marginalized unless they could stretch the floor or switch defensively—neither of which were his strongest attributes.

What happened next was perhaps the most intriguing chapter of his career—his move to Japan's B.League. I'll be honest—I was skeptical at first. The Japanese game is even faster than the PBA, and I wondered how a traditional center like Slaughter would adapt. But watching his games with the Rizing Zephyr Fukuoka changed my perspective completely. In his first season overseas, he averaged approximately 14.3 points and 8.7 rebounds—numbers that showed he still had plenty to offer. More importantly, he seemed rejuvenated, playing in a system that better utilized his strengths. It made me reflect on how sometimes a change of environment can do wonders for a player's career, something we've seen with many Filipino players who've found success abroad after struggling in the PBA.

The contrast between his PBA experience and his current situation in Japan highlights an important aspect of basketball that we often overlook—system fit matters as much as talent. Ross's observation about offensive systems being built around specific players applies perfectly here. In Japan, Slaughter found a team that built their offense around his post presence rather than making him an accessory to perimeter players. I've noticed his confidence growing with each game—his footwork looks sharper, and he's developed a reliable mid-range jumper that he rarely used in the PBA. It's been rewarding to watch his development, even if it's happening far from Philippine shores.

Looking at Slaughter's journey through the lens of system compatibility reminds me of numerous conversations I've had with coaches and players about the importance of finding the right fit. We tend to judge players based on raw talent alone, but basketball is ultimately a team sport where context matters tremendously. Slaughter's case demonstrates that sometimes a player's "decline" has less to do with their abilities and more to do with how they're utilized within a system. His resurgence in Japan proves he still has the skills that made him a top prospect—he just needed the right environment to showcase them.

Where is Greg Slaughter now? Based on my tracking of his career, he's found his groove in Japan's B.League, playing meaningful minutes and contributing significantly to his team. While some might view his PBA chapter as unfinished business, I see it differently—his journey represents the global nature of modern basketball and the various paths players can take to find success. His story continues to evolve, and I wouldn't be surprised if we see him return to the PBA someday, bringing with him the experience and refinement gained from his international stint. For now, he remains one of Philippine basketball's most fascinating case studies—a talented big man whose career reminds us that in basketball, as in life, finding where you fit is just as important as how skilled you are.