I remember watching LA Tenorio's final games with Barangay Ginebra last season, and something struck me about how this 41-year-old veteran managed to maintain his competitive edge against players half his age. When he recently announced his transition from player to new role within the organization, it got me thinking about what separates elite basketball players from the rest of us weekend warriors. The answer, I've come to realize through both personal experience and studying professional athletes, lies significantly in the weight room. Most recreational players focus entirely on shooting practice or pickup games, completely overlooking how strategic strength training could transform their performance on the court.

When I first started taking basketball seriously in my late twenties, I made all the classic mistakes in the gym. I'd see guys bench pressing massive weights or doing endless bicep curls, and I followed suit, thinking bigger muscles meant better performance. What I didn't understand then was that basketball requires functional strength – the kind that translates directly to jumping higher, moving quicker, and maintaining stability through contact. The turning point came when I started working with a strength coach who had trained professional players. He introduced me to compound movements like deadlifts and squats, but with a basketball-specific twist. We focused on explosive concentric movements and controlled eccentric phases, mimicking the sudden bursts and controlled landings that define basketball movements.

The deadlift became my secret weapon, though it took me nearly six months to perfect my form. I started with just 135 pounds, focusing entirely on technique – keeping my back straight, driving through my heels, engaging my glutes. Within a year, my deadlift had climbed to 315 pounds, and the difference on the court was undeniable. I was boxing out players who used to push me around under the basket, and my vertical jump increased by nearly 4 inches. More importantly, the nagging lower back pain that used to plague me after games completely disappeared. This is exactly the kind of longevity that players like Tenorio demonstrate – the ability to maintain peak physical condition deep into their careers through intelligent training.

Squats are another non-negotiable in my current routine, but I've learned to vary them strategically. During the offseason, I'll focus on heavy back squats, working up to about 1.5 times my body weight for 3-5 reps. But during the season, I switch to front squats and goblet squats with lighter loads – typically around 60-70% of my one-rep max. This maintains strength without causing the fatigue that would compromise my shooting during games. I made the mistake once of doing heavy squat sessions during tournament weeks, and my shooting percentage dropped by nearly 15% because my legs were constantly exhausted. It's about finding that sweet spot where strength training enhances rather than hinders your on-court performance.

What most amateur players completely miss is the importance of unilateral training. Basketball is rarely played with both feet planted firmly on the ground – you're constantly pushing off one leg, landing on one foot, making lateral cuts. That's why I dedicate at least 30% of my lower body training to single-leg exercises like Bulgarian split squats, single-leg deadlifts, and pistol squat progressions. When I incorporated these consistently, my lateral quickness improved dramatically. I went from being beaten off the dribble regularly to becoming one of the better perimeter defenders in my recreational league. The stability gains also reduced my ankle sprains from 2-3 per season to maybe one minor tweak every couple of years.

Upper body training requires similar basketball-specific thinking. I see too many players building beach muscles that actually hinder their shooting motion. My approach focuses on developing strong shoulders and back while maintaining mobility. Standing overhead presses have done wonders for my shooting range and durability, allowing me to maintain proper form even when fatigued in the fourth quarter. Horizontal pulling movements like bent-over rows have improved my ability to fight through screens and hold position in the post. But I'm careful to avoid excessive chest development – when my bench press numbers got too high, I actually felt it restricting my shooting arc. Now I rarely bench more than 185 pounds, focusing instead on push-ups and medicine ball throws for upper body power.

The integration of strength training with basketball skills is where the magic really happens. I always follow my heavy lifting sessions with 15-20 minutes of skill work – not full-court games, but focused drills like form shooting or ball handling. This teaches your nervous system to recruit your new strength during basketball movements. I've found that practicing jump shots immediately after deadlifts, for instance, helps translate that newfound power into higher releases and better elevation on your jumper. It's this kind of integrated approach that allows veterans like Tenorio to maintain effectiveness despite diminishing athleticism – they've mastered the art of applying their strength efficiently.

Recovery is the final piece that took me years to appreciate properly. In my twenties, I'd lift heavy three days a week while playing basketball four days, wondering why I was constantly sore and seeing minimal improvement. Now, at thirty-eight, I've learned that recovery is where strength is actually built. I never lift heavy on game days, always leaving at least 48 hours between intense lower body sessions and important games. I track my sleep religiously, aiming for at least 7 hours, and have incorporated contrast showers and foam rolling into my daily routine. This attention to recovery has allowed me to continue improving despite being well past my physical prime.

Looking at Tenorio's graceful transition into his new role at forty-one, having given Barangay Ginebra and its passionate fans years of stellar service, I'm reminded that basketball longevity isn't just about genetics or luck. It's about intelligent training that respects the specific demands of the sport while prioritizing long-term health over short-term gains. The weight room, when approached with purpose and understanding, can add years to your playing career and quality to those years. I may never reach professional levels, but strategic strength training has allowed me to enjoy this beautiful game at a high level deep into my thirties, with every intention of continuing well beyond. That's the real victory – not just getting better, but being able to keep playing and improving year after year.