AFTER a long bout with cancer, former Ateneo and national team captain, and Philippine Basketball Association (PBA) player Emilio “Nonoy” Chuatico passed away on New Year’s Day in Atlanta, Georgia.
While on one hand, it is sad to see him go, it is good that Nonoy is now pain free.
He was first stricken with cancer in 2012, beat it back, and was seemingly on the road to recovery. It returned in 2016 and Nonoy resumed treatment. It turned for the worse during Christmas of 2019 when he began to lose his vision. He hung on and gamely battled through treatment, but ultimately succumbed a few days ago.
I knew of Nonoy back when we were in school although he was two batches ahead of me in the Ateneo. I did get to know him better when I bunked in with some freshman batchmates at the Cervini dorm inside the Ateneo campus. Although I lived roughly 20 minutes away from the Ateneo, I did so because I was courting this girl from Eliazo Hall that was just across Cervini.
One time, with a few dormmates and classmates, we hied over to Eliazo to harana the girl. Nonoy joined us. “Mukhang kailangan mo ng assist, partner,” is what I remember him saying as he put his arm around me.
The harana went well. I think more than half the girls in Eliazo went over to the balconies of their rooms to listen to us perform acoustic—and now that I remember it—sappy versions of New Wave songs. After all, it was the 80s and punk and new wave were king.
I never won the girl’s heart, but in Nonoy, I gained a very very good friend.
After finally helping the Blue Eagles to its first University Athletic Association of the Philippines (UAAP) championship that 1986-87 season, he donned the blue and white on last time in the National UAAP of that season. Against a tough Southwestern University (SWU) Cobras team that had Mark Tallo, Calvin Tuadles, Jun Jabar and Tibo Mutia, Ateneo struggled.
The Cobras scored to take a two-point lead with 15 seconds left. Blue Eagle point guard Jun Reyes advanced the ball with the intention of shooting, but a double team was thrown at him forcing him to lose the ball. The ball was going out of bounds when Nonoy picked up the loose ball and with two seconds on the clock fired a 30-foot shot that was all net. The entire coliseum in Davao was silent as the SWU supporters were silent. It took five minutes for referees to make the decision that the shot had counted as Ateneo celebrated jubilantly on the floor.
That game incredibly was played on February 22, 1988; Chuatico’s 23rd birthday. A devout Catholic, Chuatico dropped by a Church to pray before the game. “All I wanted then was to play my best. I knew we could win, but I wanted to play my best in my last game for Ateneo.”
After that game, when I saw Noy back in Manila, we exchanged high fives and slapped each other’s backs. “Chamba lang,” he modestly said of his big shot.
A dead-eye shooter and his kontra-tiempo lay-up—he was the only one doing that in the amateurs then—I thought he’d make an excellent pro player.
Instead of turning professional, Chuatico went to work for then-Ateneo team patron Ernest Escaler’s company.
He seemed content to go to corporate life but was ultimately prodded to return to basketball. As Noy told me, “Sige, I will try. So there are no regrets.”
He captained the 1991 Philippine team that won the Southeast Asian Games gold then played for Purefoods before rounding out his PBA career with Ginebra.
Before the ’91 Sea Games gold medal match, I met up with Noy outside the Big Dome. He had an extra ticket for me but I said I didn’t need as my friends and I had tickets up in the bleachers. I did say that I had this huge Philippine flag that I planned to wave from up the rafters. The flag was from a neighbor whose father was a seaman and the flag taken off the ship (to retire it as it had seen better days).
Right before the end of warm-ups, Nonoy pulled aside some of his teammates and pointed to us and waved. Imagine that. He didn’t forget his friend up in the stands.
But that was Nonoy. He never forgot his friends. Through the years even while convalescing in the US, we always talked whether via messenger chat or through audio call. We talked about Ateneo and basketball, war films and documentaries that we enjoyed, comic books and books (he was a voracious reader) and films among many others. Our chat is littered with that kind of geeky conversation.
We oft recommended films and books for each other. The last one that he recommended I buy was Michael Bar-Zohar and Nissim Mishal’s “The Greatest Missions of the Israeli Secret Service Mossad” that I purchased in Singapore (as it wasn’t available locally then).
Conversely, he would also ask me to help look for certain comic books for his daughters who he absolutely loved. And that was pretty neat.
Although, Nonoy did some coaching in the Metropolitan Basketball Association with the Manila Metrostars, he was happy he ended his playing years with Ginebra. “I won championships with Ateneo. I have a SEA Games gold medal and I got to play for Sonny Jaworski and Ginebra… what more can I ask?”
That was typical Nonoy… always looking on the bright side.
Even while receiving treatment for cancer, he never failed to talk and see how he could help me as a writer.
His older sister, Chao, told me on numerous occasions—the last three hours after Noy passed away—“He (Noy) always told me that I should share with you stories or scoops I had about basketball because you were going to do it right and with integrity. He would always suggest your name when we would talk about who to cover a story. He was a big fan and friend of yours for sure.”
It’s funny when I think about it. I was a fan of his and him, of me.
However, isn’t that what friendship is all about?
While going through treatment, his family put out the hashtag #NonoyStrong to provide him the emotional support while battling cancer. When I think about it, it was actually the other way, he was strong for his family, his friends, and colleagues. A fount of strength. Imagine that, even while he was in pain, he would always take time out to console me over the passing of friends and family. And for many others as well.
He certainly disagreed with the saying, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Said Nonoy, “A friend is someone you never take for granted.”
I am glad we remained very good friends even though living oceans apart. Rest in peace and easy, my friend. You fought the great big fight. Like a champ as always.