Character Driven by Derek Fisher, Gary Brozek Read Free Book Online

Because we had no pro teams in Little Rock, and the Lakers and the Celtics were the top teams in the league back then, it made sense that we’d root for one of the perennial powerhouses. I followed my dad’s lead and became a big Lakers fan. That I would later be drafted by the team I rooted for as a kid is just another example to add to my list of events that have fit into the larger pattern that was not of my design.
    Despite his affiliation with West Coast teams, Dad introduced me to the marvel that was Julius “Dr. J” Erving of the Philadelphia 76ers. By the time I was born in 1974, Dr. J had just led the New Jersey Nets to their first ABA championship. Later, when the two leagues merged in 1976, Irving joined the NBA as a Philadelphia 76er. I was too young to remember all of that, but my dad told me about Dr. J’s standing up to the Nets owner and demanding that he be traded because the Nets had reneged on a promise to redo his contract. Dr. J was one of the league’s most important stars, had been the ABA’s Most Valuable Player, and was a charismatic figure who helped the NBA emerge from the shadow of Major League Baseball and the National Football League to become a huge and profitable industry. My dad reinforced the idea that what was right was right, and Dr. J’s demands weren’t out of line or greedy. He was simply expecting to be treated fairly and honestly.
    More than those elements of his off-the-court dealings, my dad held Dr. J in such high regard because of what the man could do on the court. His incredibly athletic “above the rim” style of play ushered in professional basketball’s modern era. His spectacular dunks were legendary and inspired many future pros. As talented as those 76er teams were, they couldn’t win the championship with Dr. J until the 1982–83 season, when they beat our beloved Los Angeles Lakers in four games. I was only eight and a half years old at the time, but I still have vague recollections of those games and the conference finals against Boston leading up to that championship. The Dr. J vs. Larry Bird rivalry and later Bird vs. Magic Johnson set the tone for the NBA’s marketing of marquee matchups. I don’t remember many of the specifics of that championship season, but I’m sure my dad could recap all the games, and especially how torn he was to see one of his personal favorites go up against his favorite team.
    My mom still has a photograph of me, no more than two years old, wearing a tiny Dr. J T-shirt. In the photo, I’ve just released a shot at a mini-basketball hoop, and I don’t mind telling you that my form even at that age was really good. Dr. J and I couldn’t have more different types of games, but in the years since I’ve been in the league, I’ve come to understand that Dr. J was someone worth emulating for what he did off the court as well as what he did on it. Following his retirement, he put his business savvy to work as an owner of a Coca-Cola bottling plant. He also worked as a television analyst, became a part owner in a NASCAR team (he saw that African-Americans were underrepresented in that profitable enterprise). He has also served on the board of directors of Converse (prior to their 2001 bankruptcy), Darden Restaurants Inc., Saks Incorporated, and the Sports Authority. In 1997, he joined the front office of the Orlando Magic. I’ve always felt that it’s important to have a plan for your life, and clearly Dr. J was looking beyond his years in the game to the rest of his life.
    As much as my dad idolized Dr. J and impressed upon me how the man conducted his life, there was always Magic in my life. For as many pictures as we had of Dr. J around the house, we had more of Earvin “Magic” Johnson. That I would one day wear the same uniform that he wore, that I would one day meet him and have him serve not just as a distant role model but as a mentor and as a friend, was something I could only dream about. That it all, and then some,