I miss my Dad. He would love a third generation of Bad Boys. Piston Basketball was my dad's favorite and it was something he and I enjoyed together.
I could watch and do watch any sport. My dad would laugh walking in to the strongest man competitions on television with me sitting explaining they were dead lifting boulders or pulling cars. I could be found watching St. Louis Blues hockey at age 8 without someone else prompting me to watch.
My grandpa used to tape Piston games for my dad and send them to him to watch when we lived out of state. He was a Bill Lambeer and Isaiah Thomas fan to my pure love of Joe Dumars who was the best of the best. Joe was underrated and all eyes were on Isaiah but Joe was the best.
I was over the moon when Joe became President of Detroit Pistons. My dad would by 4 pack tickets and at times he and I were only ones going. When the second generation of Bad Boys emerged we were obsessed.
Richard Rip Hamilton, I could watch his free throw technique all day. Two dribbles front center, one dribble to the right, squat, aim, and release. Literally, I loved watching him refocus himself through routine to manage the shot everytime.
Big Ben Wallace was a force Dad and I loved watching. He was not as tall as other teams centers but they should never underestimate how dominating he could be under the net. He wasn't as flashy or as over the top chaotic of a rebounder as Dennis Rodman. Dad loved Ben because he didn't care he tried his best at free throws but ultimately he was a force and knew how to secure the ball and hoop.
Chauncey Billups was the one we both took sometime to have confidence in as Point Guard. Mr. Big Shot in the beginning was more of a ball hog and I for one was not a fan of one man shows.
It is known my dislike of Shaq, Kobe, M.J. and especially LeBron. It wasn't until after watching a documentary on M.J., seeing M.J. relationship with Kobe and seeing how Shaq supports Kobe after his death that I appreciated their play. When they were against my Bad Boys though my boys to the end period. LeBron there is no appreciation he thinks longevity makes him the GOAT when in reality so many more have done more than he could in very short careers in comparison. He hasn't achieved the same and has used time to make it seem like he is better.
Back to my Bad Boys. I loved watching Tayshaun Prince evolve as a player. His growth and confidence over the years was so great to watch. His arm span though he would protect 12 feet of space I swear. If jerseys had sleeves he would have been the Flying Squirrel rather than the Prince of the Palace.
The trade when Rasheed Wallace came to Detroit had me totally hesitant. Dad knew it would be epic. I said it was bad luck we had a Wallace and Sheed had a reputation that could be very very bad for the already Bad Boys.
In 2004, I had the opportunity to buy playoff tickets on the floor behind the behind the net in the folding chairs like 10 rows back. It was Game 3 vs Lakers and the remaining 2 games would be in LA. The year Detroit won the NBA Championship, Dad was speechless.
We got there early, in awe they were warming up feet away instead of our normal nosebleed seats. We were floor level and they all were bigger than life. My dad loved every single second. Even when Detroit shut out Lakers and rookie Darko came out in the fourth quarter.
Seeing a new generation of Piston Bad Boys and knowing the Palace of Auburn Hills is gone and my Dad is isn't here is really tough. He isn't here to get the MLive family pack tickets like we used to. While it is good things move on it is hard to remember the best times may be in the past.
That game my dad just kept saying, "Look, Bean, they are right there." To my response, "I know dad, can you believe it! Love you Dad." "Love you too, Bean."
Amaysing Thoughts
No comments:
Post a Comment