- My first cognizant memory of NBA basketball was during a 1993 nationally-televised affair between the Chicago Bulls and New York Knicks. Someone from the Knicks saved the loose ball back under his own basket, leading to a Scottie Pippen steal and slam. Marv Albert remarked that saves like that were too dangerous with Pip on the prowl. I remember thinking the former had a cool voice. I was eight at the time.
- I started watching Rockets basketball during the ’94 title run. I don’t remember being particularly fanatical about it, yet for some reason, I followed every game of the next season, watching every road game on UPN or listening to Gene and Jim for the home game broadcasts. (In those days, most home games were pay-per-view.)
- One of the oddest things I’ll never forget is my reaction upon seeing Michael Jordan for the first time. I had never watched his airness prior to the comeback, being just seven or eight years old at that time. In ’95, a classmate informed us that the great one had been planning a return. I was teeming with curiosity. When I finally saw Jordan during an NBC telecast that year, my first observation was that he was incredibly short. In fact, I think I was a bit disappointed. Recall that in those days, the four best players in basketball, Hakeem Olajuwon, David Robinson, Shaquille O’Neal, and Patrick Ewing were all 7 footers. As a nine-year-old, I naturally assumed that there was direct causation between height and ability – that extreme height was a necessary component of greatness. As we know, Mike is 6’6, but at that time, I remember thinking, after all that I had heard of him, “wow, this guy is probably like 8 feet tall.”
- Same thing for Clyde. I couldn’t understand the appeal in trading a mammoth in Otis Thorpe for someone half his size.
- My favorite players during those years growing up were undoubtedly Penny Hardaway and Kevin Johnson. Looking back, it’s almost too obvious that Penny was such a favorite of my generation. He was the beneficiary of a ‘guard vacuum’, with Jordan gone/aging, and the Kobe/Iverson class not having yet come of age. Youngsters are naturally drawn to flashy guards and Penny, replete with shoe deal, was the natural choice. If you polled NBA players around my age through 30 as to who was their favorite player growing up, Penny would have the highest votes. Interestingly, if you poll players under 25, Tracy McGrady probably comes out on top. (Not so interestingly, Tracy McGrady cites Penny Hardaway as his favorite player.)
- I hated west coast games. My bedtime was 10PM or something similarly draconian and I could never watch past the first quarter of these affairs. I would take headphones and listen to Gene and Jim secretly in bed. God bless Gene Peterson. I would give that man my first-born if such a gesture were still fashionable.
- On that note, I just realized, for the above reason, I never watched games 5 and 6 of the ’95 Phoenix series. I should probably watch them this weekend. I had to call my dad the next morning to find out the outcome. (Can you imagine having to make a phone call to find if your team escaped elimination? God bless modern times.)
- If I recall correctly, Al Gore did not invent the internet until later in that decade and so coverage was limited to traditional outlets. Every year, I would purchase the season preview magazines (Athlon’s is the only one that immediately comes to mind), salivating upon sight that they had hit the stands. They were $5.50, apiece, an outrageous sum for products of such little value, but in those days, I would have gone a week without eating for procurement. I remember upon purchase, I’d bring the magazine home and complete in one sitting. My manner was uniform: I would read through the preview of every other team first, saving the Houston Rockets for last. Then, I would slowly, at a snail’s pace, consume each precious word. Imagine my disappointment in discovering that of the four preview magazines I purchased prior to the ’96-’97 season, three did not even reflect the Charles Barkley acquisition.
- Remember Clyde’s first quarter as a Rocket? The team exploded for 40 points in Charlotte with Kenny Smith going berserk. Bill Worrell could not contain himself, remarking that “when Vernon Maxwell returns, it’s gonna be baaaaaaad.” Max never really returned. A shame because he was my favorite player from the year before. In fact, I think if polled, a majority of respondents would reply that Max was their favorite from those days. Odd considering that the 6’4 guard quit on his team during a playoff run.
- Unless there is somehow overwhelming demand for discussion of the global trade and free market repercussions of Patrick Patterson’s new Peak deal, I’ll continue with these thoughts tomorrow.
