DR. ANTHONY NICANOR, known as Comm Nic, was an exuberant and sturdy guy who was humble in victory. He never wavered from his conviction, fighting for athletes’ rights even when he ruffled many feathers.
One of the first commissioners of the Philippine Sports Commission (PSC), Comm Nic was credited for the country’s glorious harvest of 91 gold medals in the 1991 Manila Southeast Asian Games.
“This is my greatest achievement,” he told Filipino athletes after Team Philippines shattered the 90th gold-medal mark, missing the overall championship by a solitary gold behind powerhouse Indonesia.
Comm Nic was a man of many talents and passion, who once bagged the Most Valuable Player (MVP) award in the University Athletic Association of the Philippines (UAAP) basketball tournament.
But with age, the body became rebellious, refusing to follow the dictates of the mind. Everything is now old with Comm Nic, no longer in active locomotion except the mind that is still sharp and brilliant.
Nic in his youth was an athlete to marvel at. He played forward for the Maroons of University of the Philippines (UP), small but the brightest in offense, and was fast, crafty and elusive.
With two or three guys, taller and heftier, blocking him, he would dribble, feign and fake, and with a quick release on the way up, he would toss a jumper, or flip a one-handed lay-up unmolested.
At 5-foot-5, Nic displayed extraordinary agility and shooting skills even against the giants. He outfoxed Jimmy Mariano, the tallest at 6-foot-4, and outwitted Sonny Jaworski, the toughest in his generation.
They pitted him against the so-called bad boys of the game—Romy Diaz, Boy Arazas and Manny Jocson of the Far Eastern University Tamaraws. But his ball-handling skills and sense of timing outwitted them all.
Like the Lakers’ Jerry West in the National Basketball Association (NBA), Nic outhustled all guards tasked to cripple his efficiency and averaged double figures in each game, setting an all-time high 34 points at one point.
For his shooting brilliance and quickness, he was voted the 1962 Most Valuable Player of the UAAP collegiate basketball championship.
It would have been a battle royale had Nic crossed paths with Ed Ocampo, the greatest guard of the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) and the Manila Industrial Commercial Athletic Association (MICAA).
Ocampo, the only four-time Olympian, was the finest guard the country has ever produced, known for his gigantic matchups with the South Korean ace Shin Dong-pa, who remains today unparalleled as a shooter. For Ed’s genius and wizardry, hustle and speed, he became the only athlete to bag both the “Mr. Basketball’’ and “Mr. Football” awards.
Nic was also UP’s top bet when the triple jump was still known as the hop, step and jump in UAAP track and field, where he showed remarkable talents in the sprints.
There he got acquainted with the country’s national standouts like Ben Silva Netto, Romy Sotto, Cesar Baronda and the legendary Mona Sulaiman, and his love affair with track and field blossomed.
I had the chance to work with Comm Nic when I was named to the PSC board, together with Jun Castro, the marathoner; Pete Juachon, the skydiver; and Domingo Cepeda, the lawyer.
Our chairman was Dr. Perry Mequi, a demagogue whose dogma in sports clashed with the teachings of Comm Nic. The story of the former was filled with contradiction. Nic was a tapestry of gladness. He was a delight to be with, but his wit could be roguish.
The acerbic sports guru was defiant, while Comm Nic’s was pleasant. His sense of timing was impeccable and he was always sought by athletes wanting to listen to his wisdom and guidance.
He would give tips to sprinter Lydia de Vega, quarter-miler Isidro del Prado, steeplechaser Hector Begeo, hurdler Elma Muros, or discus-thrower Fidel Repizo, and the boxers who were his best friends.
Lydia and company won eight gold medals in the Games that year, the same number won by boxers Arlo and Ronald Chavez, Roberto Jalnaiz, Julito Lopez, Elias Recaido, Roel Velasco, Victor Vicera and Ruben Mares.
“I am always happy in their company,” said Comm Nic, who would personally intercede before the PSC board for the boxers who needed some gear so as not to hamper their training.
I remember he laid out an elaborate plan in the country’s search for the elusive Olympic gold medal. “Our biggest chance is in boxing. But we have to scout for more talents, train them hard.”
He gave us a thrill of apprehension, but one cloudy afternoon he suddenly looked like an aging champion incarcerated in athletic senility. His true age was distorted by time and experience.
At the prime of his magical career, they suddenly retired a man of marvelous skills and authentic greatness. He quietly left the PSC with many eyes moist with tears of surprise and sadness.
“Walang kapantay,” said veteran sports columnist Fred Lumba, Comm Nic’s closest buddy and ally. “Many truly missed him.”