My Bill Walton Moment

My Bill Walton Moment

On a Monday evening edition of PTI, as he bid farewell to the recently departed Bill Walton, Michael Wilbon reflected, "Everybody has a story." I can attest to that.

In 1991, while still recovering from a serious injury sustained when hit by a car while jogging, I managed to make it to Freedom Hall for some Cardinal hoops, albeit on crutches. As I struggled down the steps to my seat, Bill Walton, who was covering the game on TV, walked up the aisle. He paused, inquiring about what happened and how I was faring.

Walton, familiar with surgeries and enduring numerous physical setbacks himself, was empathetic. Despite his own battles with pain, he took the time to offer words of encouragement, genuinely concerned about my well-being.

It wasn't a fleeting gesture. He engaged in a heartfelt conversation with me before moving on.

Everybody indeed has a story.

That sentiment resonated strongly in the wake of Walton's passing. The outpouring of comments highlighted his exceptional decency, care, curiosity, and intellect. He was always interested in how others were doing, a quality evident to anyone who watched him during a game, particularly alongside Dave Pash, his straight man.

Admittedly, it took me some time to warm up to Walton's unconventional style as a commentator. Yet, eventually, I came to appreciate his childlike charm and boundless enthusiasm, cherishing it as a unique aspect of his persona.

What an intriguing individual he was. And what an extraordinary basketball player.

Undoubtedly, he ranks among the greatest collegiate hoopsters, perhaps even at the very top. His performance in the NCAA title game against Memphis State, where he nearly achieved perfection despite having several dunks nullified due to outdated rules, remains legendary.

While UCLA didn't clinch the title in every season of Walton's tenure, his absence from one particular championship game is notable. In the documentary series "30 for 30," Walton offers insight into this, attributing it to a clash with coach John Wooden over recreational activities among players.

Walton's passing, coinciding with the culmination of league games in the Conference of Champions, carries a poignant symbolism. For a man known to have frequented Dead shows, it's fitting to bid him farewell with the wish, "Long May You Dance."

— c d kaplan