Hero Intact
I may have mentioned it before but one of the most amazing sporting events I was ever at was a 1972 basketball game between the Lakers and the Braves. It was in the midst of the Lakers 33-game winning streak.
Dad bought those tickets...just behind the Lakers bench because his 8-year-old son was obsessed with everything Wilt Chamberlin.
Those tickets would run about $1500 now.
Each!
Dad, John and I sat there for all of seven bucks each, actually. But Dad was probably making less than a $100 a week then.
Regardless, I spent the entire night watching my hero play. I recall sitting there thinking that the guy just couldn't be real. He was gigantic. Bigger than life.
I've cherished that memory since.
Recently, the Miami Heat have been chasing the Lakers record for the streak.
At first I thought it was cool. It was something my kids could remember. Hell, Jerry West was all right with it. In an interview he claimed that he had the streak forever.
Then I thought some more.
In my mind's eye images from that night 42 years ago flashed to me.
Wilt with his gold headband.
West drilling a jumper.
John smiling next to me.
Dad. So young. So happy. So perfect.
My hero, really.
He was bigger than Wilt.
LeBron was being interviewed.
He said that back then things were so much different. He said that men were bigger, faster, stronger now. He said that the level of competition wasn't what it is today.
Poop!
On Wednesday night I laid down for sleep. I'd sort of made peace with it all, but the one image of Wilt laughing as the 4th quarter wound down stuck in my head. My Dad guiding us up the escalator was also front and center. I remember that because we had heard a horror story about a woman who'd fallen backwards down the escalator at a previous Braves game.
I remember Dad's hand on my shoulder as we went up.
I recall being terrified.
I hit the Twitter feed on Wednesday night.
The Heat were down 7 to the Bulls with 4 minutes left.
The boys were watching it on the big television. Matt and Jake were rooting for the streak to continue. LeBron is their false hero these days.
Sam and I were on the side of it ending.
As it wound down I told the story of that long ago game. The Bulls were gonna' stop the streak. My hero worship was intact.
Yet, funny thing.
I wasn't thinking much about Wilt as I climbed the stairs to go to bed.
Instead.
I was remembering the sacrifice Dad made to get me to that game.
He knew his son had a special interest.
A silly thing, really.
But he guided me up the escalator.
My hero.
Dad bought those tickets...just behind the Lakers bench because his 8-year-old son was obsessed with everything Wilt Chamberlin.
Those tickets would run about $1500 now.
Each!
Dad, John and I sat there for all of seven bucks each, actually. But Dad was probably making less than a $100 a week then.
Regardless, I spent the entire night watching my hero play. I recall sitting there thinking that the guy just couldn't be real. He was gigantic. Bigger than life.
I've cherished that memory since.
Recently, the Miami Heat have been chasing the Lakers record for the streak.
At first I thought it was cool. It was something my kids could remember. Hell, Jerry West was all right with it. In an interview he claimed that he had the streak forever.
Then I thought some more.
In my mind's eye images from that night 42 years ago flashed to me.
Wilt with his gold headband.
West drilling a jumper.
John smiling next to me.
Dad. So young. So happy. So perfect.
My hero, really.
He was bigger than Wilt.
LeBron was being interviewed.
He said that back then things were so much different. He said that men were bigger, faster, stronger now. He said that the level of competition wasn't what it is today.
Poop!
On Wednesday night I laid down for sleep. I'd sort of made peace with it all, but the one image of Wilt laughing as the 4th quarter wound down stuck in my head. My Dad guiding us up the escalator was also front and center. I remember that because we had heard a horror story about a woman who'd fallen backwards down the escalator at a previous Braves game.
I remember Dad's hand on my shoulder as we went up.
I recall being terrified.
I hit the Twitter feed on Wednesday night.
The Heat were down 7 to the Bulls with 4 minutes left.
The boys were watching it on the big television. Matt and Jake were rooting for the streak to continue. LeBron is their false hero these days.
Sam and I were on the side of it ending.
As it wound down I told the story of that long ago game. The Bulls were gonna' stop the streak. My hero worship was intact.
Yet, funny thing.
I wasn't thinking much about Wilt as I climbed the stairs to go to bed.
Instead.
I was remembering the sacrifice Dad made to get me to that game.
He knew his son had a special interest.
A silly thing, really.
But he guided me up the escalator.
My hero.
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