Basketball and Me
I’ve loved basketball since I was a kid. I’m not sure what prompted the initial love affair. Exposure to enough commercials featuring NBA…
I’ve loved basketball since I was a kid. I’m not sure what prompted the initial love affair. Exposure to enough commercials featuring NBA players that the interest developed through osmosis? Maybe it was the presence of stars on my cereal box. I have a pretty clear memory of living in LaPorte and staring at a box of Honey Combs featuring Penny Hardaway and learning that his given name was Anfernee and that Penny was a nickname.
Or maybe it was something I picked up from my dad. He had Chicago Bulls salt and pepper shakers, one red and the other black.
Growing up in the 90s, it was hard to escape Michael Jordan. I was born in Maywood, Illinois. My parents worked at a hospital there. My dad adapted the Bulls as his team. He was from Idaho, so his pickings for pro teams were relatively poor, though there were always the Sonics or the Trail Blazers. Like a lot children in that era, I was a big fan of Jordan. I remember around Christmas of 1992, on the day we went out to get a tree, my dad was going to a Bulls game that night. I naively assumed that he would be taking me with him. I was wrong.
When I was an elementary schooler at Northwestern Elementary School in Kokomo, we read “Flat Stanley” and as a lesson related to the book, each of us got to color and cut out our own flat Stanley to mail on an adventure. The idea was they would be returned with pictures. I sent mine to Jordan. I was naive enough not to know how popular he was and to think that he might read my letter directly. Bulls PR sent me a package in return, but not Flat Stanley.
When I began attending Northwestern, I didn’t know the Indiana Pacers were even a thing. I was just shocked that anybody would root for anybody but the greatest basketball player of all time: Michael Jordan.
I think another reason I gravitated towards the Bulls was that — along with being born in close proximity to the franchise, the interest of my father in them and admiration of Jordan — my favorite color was red. A fact that crystallized with “Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers,” purely because the symbol of the Red Ranger was the Tyrannosaurus Rex, my favorite dinosaur. That show was influential in other ways too, as it was likely my gateway to “The Simpsons,” but that’s a topic for another column.
Anyway, basketball was a source of stability and comfort when my parents separated and later divorced. I remember being in the car reading a book on the 1995–96 Bulls while my mother did some reconnaissance work to learn more about what my father was up to and get intel on the woman he had cheated on her with.
I also have fond memories of renting “NBA: Hangtime” from the video store and playing games with my brother on our Nintendo 64. The first game console we owned, because my dad didn’t want us to have game systems because he thought we would never leave the house.
We moved to Indianapolis in 1997 so my mother could attend law school. One of her classmates gave my mom two tickets to the Bulls/Pacers game. It was 20 years ago on Nov. 28, 1997, that I saw my first NBA game in person. It’s a memory I’ll never forget.
After Jordan retired following the second three-peat, I lost interest in basketball. I was happy for the Pacers when they made the NBA Finals and saddened when they lost. The Malice at the Palace cooled off my interest in basketball for the time being.
Flash forward to me at Indiana University, I began attending basketball games during the latter half of my career, the early part of the Crean era, before the program was considered back. I remember Victor Oladipo and liking what he brought to the court. He was very easy to root for. College hoops later begat an interest in the NBA. I went all-in after seeing Roy Hibbert on an episode of “Parks and Recreation,” a show that was a comfort food when I felt homesick during grad school in Brooklyn.
I went in on the Pacers big time when I moved back home. I was Hibbert’s fan section for two seasons. The last few years were rough times to be a Pacer fan, but this year is a breath of fresh air, Oladipo is a big part of that. It’s rekindled my love of basketball and now I experience joy while watching Pacers games instead of existential dread.
This love of basketball and the satisfaction I derive from watching it is why I’m using my platform to stump for Bright Side of the Night, an event in its third year that sends underprivileged children to a Phoenix Suns game at no cost to the children. This year, ticket sales are a little slow.
This year’s game is the Jan. 14 Suns/Pacers game. Several Pacers fans on Twitter have bought tickets for the children already. It’s a great opportunity to give underprivileged kids a memory they’ll never forget at a low cost. Each ticket costs $9. This could be a great way to show a little Hoosier hospitality and spread our love of basketball.
I may not be a born and bred Hoosier, but I’ve lived here since 1992 and I deeply love this state and the people who call it home. In 49 other states, it’s just basketball, but this is Indiana. And who knows, maybe some new Pacers fans will be created from this. At any rate, a child who is a basketball fan deserves to see Oladipo live and in person the way he’s playing this season.
For more information about Bright Side of the Night, visit nba.com/suns/brightside.
