When I was five years old, the California Golden Bears won the NCAA Tournament with a 71-70 victory over the Jerry West-led West Virginia. They made the finals the next season but got blown out by Ohio State. I remember listening to Cal games on the radio, called by Bud Foster. I’m always talking about how memories are untrustworthy, so I’ll just say I think I remember that West Virginia game. Cal has never been to an NCAA final match since.
I was 21 years old when the Golden State Warriors won the NBA title, sweeping Washington. I remember that very well. My son was 9 days old. I mention this because I have fond memories of sharing that title with Neal as I fed him in his high chair. But he wasn’t eating in a high chair on May 25, 1975, so my memories are, as usual, off.
Some thought the Warriors were even better the next year, but they lost in the Conference finals to Phoenix. Game Seven came on Neal’s first birthday. Somewhere in there, I fed him in his high chair.
And the Warriors had never won the NBA title since that 1974-75 season.
My wife had access to great season tickets in the early-80s, and we went to more games than we ever have since.
So this post is dedicated to my wife’s fave Joe Barry Carroll, and World B. Free, and Larry “Mr. Mean” Smith, and Purvis Short, and above and beyond, the great Bernard King.