Why the PBA chose Chito Narvasa
I have a deep, abiding respect for Chito Narvasa, dating back to when I first met him almost 35 years ago. As a gangling college freshman, I wanted to pursue my dream of playing professional basketball. But first, I wanted to play college ball. Chito and his brother Ogie (who would also later become a friend), were jointly coaching the Ateneo Blue Eagles, at a time when the team had not been winning in the early to mid-1980’s. The two had been Blue Eagles and members of the Philippine team in 1977 and 1978, at a time when the PBA had emerged in a rebellion from the MICAA and taken the best talent available I was athletic and explosive, but had never had any formal training. It was a great learning experience.
There were three things I learned from Chito in that short time as a player. First, his sense of purpose. He frequently asked us (including future PBA and national team coach Chot Reyes) why we were there. What was it we were after, and why did we feel strongly about wanting to be basketball players? After all, the answers to these questions would define what we did. Without any honest answers to these fundamental questions, everything else might end up mere exercises in futility.
I had my own questions about our practices then. I had never been pushed that hard before. In high school, I had tried out for the football team, but gave up being a goalkeeper to focus on basketball. Besides, playing in the hard, driving rain wasn’t fun for me then. But these practices were so hard, I found my hands shaking when I tried to drink water at home hours later. We basically did a lot of passing during the first three weeks, and one of the players joked we would be known as a low-scoring team because we weren’t shooting the ball. Of course, Chito and Ogie had broken the game down and taken us back to the basics, which we didn’t appreciate then. Needing to search for my biological father at the time, I quit the team a few weeks later. But the lessons stuck.
Eventually, Chito would find his way into the PBA. It was inevitable. He was systematic, uncompromising and knew how to get players to change for the better of the team. First as an assistant with Purefoods, then later as a head coach, he challenged convention, and was a tough match-up for all the established coaches. Later on at Shell, he harnessed the skills of a raw, young team and made them a force to be reckoned with. He questioned the way things were being done, seeking a better way of doing things that would benefit the league in the long run. All this while also achieving independent career success in the law and finance, with an appreciation for good taste.
As head of the Basketball Coaches Association of the Philippines, he fought fiercely for the rights of Filipino coaches, always contending that they could do the job just as well as any expat. This advocacy has ultimately also strengthened the will of many coaches to improve their skills so as not to be perceived as using their nationality as a crutch. Narvasa believes in being able to back up what you say, and being prepared for challenges lying ahead. He didn’t mince words, either. He spoke his mind, and called things as he saw them. This has always been a serious matter to him, a battle he continuously carries on for fairer treatment of Filipino coaches.
In 2001, Narvasa’s pedigree, achievements and well- rounded acumen earned him a nomination as a candidate for the position of PBA commissioner. It was a choice between him, businessman and long-time PBA board member Rey Gamboa, broadcaster Atty. Noli Eala. Eala was deemed the middle of the road choice. The PBA was also in a battle with the upstart Metropolitan Basketball Association, and dealing with issues regarding fake Filipinoforeign players trying to make it into the league. That experience never deterred Narvasa, who has managed all the other major leagues in the country with the same uncompromising eye towards doing things better. Back to basics, which inform and guide everything else.
In the Philippines, it is very hard to tell people they are wrong. Sometimes, we get comfortable with the way we do things, and resist change. Even if we know there is a better or newer way to improve the system, we sit back because that is the way it has always been done. We try not to rock the boat and upset the status quo. And eventually, that is what costs us innovation and increased value in how we do things. Chito Narvasa has always been an innovator, and his choice to do things the right way once created a perception that he did not get along with others who did not think the same way. But always, always, his guiding principle is the welfare of the sport, its growth and improvements, and the rights of everyone involved. You can’t argue with that.
What should we expect from the new PBA commissioner? A keen eye on how to streamline the way games are run, a firm hand in raising standards, particularly in the critical areas of officiating and game management, and open dialogue with the league’s various stakeholders. We can expect the new commissioner to hold people accountable and responsible for highlevel, high-quality performance of their duties, with no excuses. The PBA is ready. And the PBA will be all the better for it.