Nick Susi remains teammate, captain
I got a call from my college basketball coach, Skip Chappelle, on Monday. Nick Susi had died. The news startled me as my teammate and captain on the University of Maine teams in the early 1970s was far too young to have passed. He was too full of life; it must be a mistake. It wasn’t.
Nick Susi was one hell of a teammate and a great player for coach Chappelle and the University. But, the Nick Susi I’ll remember was more than that; he was one of a kind. Nick was as unpretentious as they come; it didn’t matter to him which side of the tracks you came from, you were his friend until proven otherwise. Nick filled our locker room with his deep laugh – a laugh that forced his head back as if to give enough room for it to escape from deep inside.
A big guy at 6-foot-5, Nick would dominate the room with good-natured ribbing and tall tales, as we changed after another yet blistering practice in “The Pit.” He told stories and jokes that are best left behind the closed doors of the locker room. He was a man’s man. He knew everyone and everyone loved him. What a teammate he was.
Moreover, when it was time to play, Nick never backed down. Often giving up several inches to taller and more athletic centers, he’d give as good as he’d take. Ripping off rebounds, kicking it out to a guard, Nick would get his long legs going as he filled the lanes, outrunning his less ambitious opponents. He was indefatigable. I can still see Nick receiving the ball on the low post and taking his turnaround jumper, arms extended to their fullest, leaning back slightly. It was impossible to block. I never saw anyone do it.
He was never more alive then when he competed, whether in open gym during the off-season or against Connecticut, UMass or Boston University. It was easy to go to war with Nick. Along with the likes of Peter and Willie Gavett, Paul Bessey, John Sterling, Bruce Stinson and Steve Lane, Nick played in a time when Maine kids carried the load against scholarship athletes from bigger schools, and won more than their share. We did it with heart. No one’s heart was bigger than Nick’s.
When he left the University in 1972, he held the career rebounding record; not bad for a small town boy from Pittsfield via Maine Central Institute. He remained active with the university and left his mark on the institution that helped nurture him to adulthood.
In recent years, I’d run into Nick from time to time and we’d fall into the comfortable conversation of two old jocks who had laughed, suffered and celebrated together. He’d make me laugh as we reminisced about driving coach Chappellecrazy and the stupidity of youth.
Even on this sad day, the day my Coach told me of his death, a smile joined a tear as I sat on my back deck and thought of him. Nick Susi, dead. The contradiction is simply too great; but, no matter how many times I shake my head in disbelief, it is true. Today, our thoughts go out to his wife Martha, and their two children. I know his children meant more to him than anything in the world.
As for me, I like to think Nick is in heaven, reserving a court or organizing a quick game of 5-on-5. This much I know, he’s making his presence felt. As we inevitably age with time, his passing reminds us that the game is indeed, a short run. The Captain has gone ahead, it was his nature to lead.
For all of us who knew him, goodbye Nick; you’ll always be our teammate, you’ll always be our captain.
Tony Hamlin
Milo
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