Topex Robinson and the essence of Animo

After the recent victory of DLSU in the UAAP basketball finals, I asked my son Roel, who used to write postgame articles for GoArchers (now known as Take Aim Sports), to share his thoughts. This is what he wrote:

The dust may have started to settle on the championship revelry, but more and more off-court stories shared in various media outlets have only contributed to the magnitude of the victory.

Personally, I’ve always been drawn towards the substance of athletic triumphs, especially those in the name of one’s school and the institutional values that are inextricably intertwined. This is why I started writing postgame articles (oh so creatively entitled “Game Reaction”) back in 2013 after seeing the very first game of rookie coach Juno Sauler’s roster. There are several parallels to which I feel very strongly drawn between those two championships won a decade apart.

Most apparent are the first round struggles, with this season’s team even winning one game more. But faltering in close games against early league contenders sparked wildfire among what Coach Topex calls “great minds:” supporters on social media sharing more than their two cents’ worth of ire.

But I’ve seen this before. The Lasallian community is a proud one. We never settle nor make excuses; we set our standards high. And we’ve been hungry for quite some time now. Call it the seven-year drought, a series of would-be dynasties cut short, witnessing The Battle of Katipunan stealing the spotlight as a new marquee rivalry. Or all of the above. But as the optimism of the likes of unfazed Lasallians Nino Sauler and Karen Ramos Hebron brushed off a close first round loss to UP, I was reminded of something similar that fueled my belief in 2013, the five most magical words in UAAP basketball: Peaking at the right time.

There was also something else in this young coach that reverberated beyond the basketball court. I was reminded of all the motivational speeches that circulated pre-season on the essence of being a champion, akin to Socrates’ theory of forms and my philosophy teachers first dropping my jaw explaining the “chair-ness of a chair.” Juno Sauler was quoting Victor Frankl and William Ernest Henley to his team, while Coach Topex was doing more than just developing a new system: he was instilling character that would serve his players well even off the court.

Yet these motivational speeches were brushed off and criticized as mere abstractions after the first round losses. Coach Topex, in what already was a bold brandishing of Animo, took responsibility while reminding his team how struggle must be perceived as a privilege.

Winning fixes everything in sports, as they say. Yet whatever the outcome, Coach Topex was already in pursuit of Lasallian excellence, having enrolled as an AB Sports Management student with some of his players as classmates. Becoming the fourth rookie coach for DLSU to win the championship was a mere formality.

The prayer circles the entire team would form on court before every game, becoming a source for memes during the “imperfect” first round, revealed itself to be an uncanny manifestation of trust and redemption as the Green Archers would then win 10 of their last 11 games.

All rooted in love and trust in one another, and a system that allowed players to flourish even during adversity, sparked Kevin Quiambao to fully evolve into the player he was always meant to be: the first non-foreign athlete Most Valuable Player since Kiefer Ravena. Evan Nelle, who was already a champion in San Beda but left as a scapegoat, can now end his collegiate career, much to the chagrin of all his doubters and haters, how he started: a winner. Mark Nonoy was a perfect fit for the Topex system of trust, turning previous seasons of underachievement into a fulfillment of his true potential. Francis Escandor, Joshua David and JC Macalalag paid off playing minutes given that were earlier doubted by most by stepping up as Game 2 heroes. All redeemed by winning a finals series for the ages. We all shed the same tears as the Phillips “Papakamatay sa bola” brothers hugged each other for a victory well-deserved, well-earned and fought for to the end. We wouldn’t have had it any other way.

There is certainly a name for this in any other school. But we call it Animo, which undoubtedly manifests in many forms, on and off the court.

The brotherhood of coaches, Caloy Garcia, Mon Jose, Oliver Bunyi, Gian Nazario and JB Sison, to whom Robinson would easily defer even during crucial stretches. 74-year-old Nanay Leticia who I witnessed receive her high school diploma at the most recent La Salle Green Hills Alternative Education Department commencement exercises. The goosebumps along my raised forearm singing the alma mater hymn along with persons deprived of liberty (PDLs) in the Mandaluyong City Jail to cap off their own graduation rites earlier this year.

Yes, Coach Topex. You are a bonafide Lasallian. Less for the accolades, more for enduring the struggle while making an entire community truly believe again: The future begins here.

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