I HAVE nothing but respect for Philippine Basketball Association (PBA) Commissioner Chito Narvasa. There is nothing I would have wished for him but smooth sailing in a league that enjoys popularity with fans on a scale so staggering when viewed from the perspective of four decades.
But in an incredibly short time, he has frittered away this goodwill. Instead of building bridges, he has burned them. Instead of gaining allies, he has made enemies. When circumstances called for him to show strong leadership, the calls were like howls in the wilderness.
Given his pedigree, his erudition and his fame, I expected of him audacity of vision and decisiveness in his pursuit of it. I found it incredibly distressing that his leadership, so early in his PBA watch, got bogged down by his own shortness of vision. The most visible effects of his actions and decisions have fostered only disharmony.
Just few months ago, Mr. Narvasa picked on a television host and contributing writer for an online sports news service. He might just have been someone else, may be a top local columnist whose prose very much reads like Mike Royko’s and Jim Murray’s—writing icons of American newspapers a generation ago.
From the looks of it, Mr. Narvasa, because he is PBA commissioner—and probably because of the pedigree his name and education have given him—acted alone in playing three distinct roles, as investigator, as judge and as executioner.
I was a sportswriter when the pro league had just come out of its chrysalis, led by Leo Prieto, the venerable founding commissioner. He was not close to the media; that wasn’t his cup of tea. He never invited us over to his swanky retreat for lunch, or to share a sip of gin or vodka.
But such remoteness did not translate into any kind of hostility to the press whatsoever. I remember Fred Luarca, a famed player in the 1950’s who turned to writing a sports column where he unleashed biting commentaries one after the other. They often dripped with venom, or hit with the force of a Pacquiao jab. And the object of his biting prose, really a punching bag, was venerable Leo Prieto.
But there was Prieto showing up every game day at the Araneta Coliseum, looking as if he had not had a bad day for a long time. His smile remained disarming. He remained remote to the press. And he did not touch Fred with anything.
How much we really miss Leo Prieto these days, especially because another storm has been stirred up by the PBA’s top honcho. I’ve just read about it, and I cannot believe Mr. Narvasa has done it again. He just suspended Mahindra team consultant Joe Lipa. The offense? Lipa failed to appear before the Commissioner, as ordered by summons sent to him on November 13.
Lipa, as a coach, has a lot of spunk. He was the legendary mentor of the University of the Philippines (UP) Maroons, and of the National Five that overachieved during his stewardship of both teams. I mean, he brought them to heights undreamed of—or considered to be unreachable by them. UP won its only post-war UAAP championship in 1986 (with Ronnie Magsanoc, Benjie Paras and Eric Altamirano) and the National team the bronze medal—which felt like gold—at the 1986 Asian Games in Seoul.
This is a testament to the fact that Lipa is a professional who knows his business, who believes in his principles, and who does not retreat from a fight when he know he is right. He is no pushover.
How could Mr. Narvasa just curtly order him to appear before him—to be prosecuted and to be judged? He called his summons “nonwaivable” that required mandatory appearance. Disobey and he will judge it “a serious affront on the authority of the commissioner.”
Big words, but no style. If Mr. Narvasa were a player now, he would have been whistled by the crowd many times over for forcing through, and not only against Mahindra but any team for that matter. Or even booed all the way to the dugout by the gallery.
His summons to Lipa of course raised the hackles of the grizzled coach. “There are better ways to draft a summons,” he said. The tone, not just the language was accusatory, offensive, disrespectful and condescending.
“Talagang he was demanding me to come to his office and the letter was accusatory. He summoned me dahil sa mga sinabi ko sa inyo tungkol kay Manny Pacquiao,” Lipa told a reporter.
“I find the letter to connote, to imply a lot and there are connotations of accusing me and secondly, there are implications of superior and subordinate relationship. I like to make it clear to him that my superior is Kia management, short of saying, ‘Hindi kita [Narvasa] kaano-ano.’ If the letter was less condescending, maybe I could have appeared.”
Lipa showed a lot of character, not disrespect, in defending Pacquiao from Narvasa’s remarks over in Dubai last week that at best were uncalled for. At worst, the commissioner can be considered to have committed an unforgivable offense. He undermined the ability and standing of Pacquiao as a PBA team coach and player.
What right or authority did he have to do that?
Should not the entire PBA Board summon Narvasa to explain his words and actions?