When a newscaster I worked with passed away and I found out he liked Billy Joel, I changed the lyrics from Piano Man to “Anchorman.”

Another classy, wonderful human was taken from us too soon…and I’m back to thinking about Billy Joel lyrics.

Basketball legend Darryl Dawkins had a heart attack at 58, in his hometown of Allentown, Pennsylvania. I immediately changed the lyrics in my head to:

Well he was living back in Allentown

And he’s the one who tore the backboards down.

With the Sixers and the Nets he did time….

Chocolate Thunder storms…

Fans were in line.

Well, the highlights always showed he could soar.

He left all the defenders really sore

Met a cheerleader he married, sure.

We asked for autographs,

He smiled, and talked crap…

And he left us while in Allentown.

I had been obsessed with basketball since the time my dad, who up and left my family, sent me a few Christmas presents one year. One of them was a basketball. I loved the smell of the rubber. I loved the fact that I thought you had to be older than 8 to play the sport. I immediately became obsessed with dribbling and shooting everywhere I found a hoop.

I watched all the games I could, and it was perfect timing, with the San Diego Clippers becoming a team in my hometown.

Most fans remember the 76ers teams he played with, but most don’t realize he had a brief stint with the Harlem Globetrotters; or that he was the first player to go from high school to the NBA in the first round (his teammate Moses Malone would become one, and become better). Had Dawkins gone to college, he probably could’ve honed his skills a bit more. And, had he not been on a championship team with a few other Hall of Famers, perhaps his numbers would’ve been more impressive. He averaged 12 points and 6 rebounds a game after 14 years in the NBA, although he had many injuries late in his career.

He has the 7^th best field goal percentage in NBA history – shooting 57.2%. The record he does hold in the NBA – the most fouls. He had 386 in one season (imagine having a muscular, 6’11” center foul you as you took the ball down the middle).

As a kid, it was his monsterous dunks that thrilled me. Two of those dunks resulted in the glass backboards shattering all over the floor (and it’s the reason the NBA created the break-away rims).

Dawkins was also a guy from the old school of smack talking, where it was funny and not as mean-spirited. He had many different nicknames. I remember an issue of Basketball Digest I read as a teenager, listed his 20 different nicknames. The most popular was the one Stevie Wonder gave him – Chocolate Thunder.

I preferred “The Man from the Planet Lovetron.”

There were also various names for his dunks, included the “Yo Mama” “Look Out Below” and the “Rim Wrecker.”

Listening to post-game interviews reminded me of Muhammad Ali before and after fights. Nowadays when you hear athletes talking about their big win or athletic prowess, it’s just annoying [Sorry. I just turned into the “Get off my Lawn!” guy. But I think as a guy with gray in my hair, and a lawn that’s dying because of the drought…I’m entitled!]

I’ve been sad, and thinking a lot about Dawkins since I first heard the news a few days ago. When Hall of Famer Isiah Thomas said he was one of the greatest players with fans and how he interacted with them.

I was 14-years-old, and was at the first NBA game I attended without adults. A 16-year-old I played basketball with had gotten his drivers license. We drove to the Clippers game to watch them take on the New Jersey Nets. We first had to stop at a liquor store to buy a Hustler magazine. Now, it’s not what you’re thinking (no, we didn’t get it for the articles). My 5^th grade basketball coach, who was a hoop legend in San Diego (I’ll refrain from naming him), had a girlfriend that was appearing nude in the mag. We stopped and picked that up, and then it was off to see Darryl Dawkins demolish the Clippers (who were always an awful team).

[fun fact on the naked woman: she went on to either date or marry Steve Sax, the Los Angeles Dodgers star 2^nd baseman]

My friends’ mom had gotten us front row seats from her boss, and I watched in awe as 6’11” Bill Walton walked out onto the court (he looked taller wearing a suit). Of course, he was injured. I went over and had him autograph my ticket stub. I also had Clippers coach (and former NBA player) Paul Silas sign it. I was thrilled to meet these two legends, until I saw Dawkins walk onto the court. He looked like he could kill somebody just with a headbutt. I glanced down at my ticket stub, and there was no room left for him to sign.

I went and bought a program just to have something for him to sign, cursing the fact that the thing was $3 and filled with mostly beer advertisements.

By the time I got back, the game was starting.

I couldn’t believe the amount of cursing I heard out of Dawkins mouth. It was insane. They were dirtier words and phrases than the Hustler magazine contained. I figured this is the last person that would sign an autograph, but I couldn’t let the opportunity pass. I was sitting right behind the New Jersey Nets bench.

I walked up with my program and pen in hand, and asked for his signature. He looked at me and snapped, “Are you crazy, kid?! The game is going on! We’re not allowed to sign autographs during the game!”

I apologized and he said, “Come back after the game. I’ll sign it for you then, okay?”

I walked back to my seat shaking.

After the game, he looked over in my direction and waved me over. Of course, adults and kids went running in his direction. He stood there signing everything for everybody, and told great stories. One person would ask him about Dr. J, and he’d share an anecdote. Somebody else asked if Moses Malone was as mean as he seemed, and there would be another story [my story involving Malone – the Sixers were going back to the team bus after a game. He was the only one who didn’t stop to sign autographs and when an 80-year-old man stepped in front of him to insist he sign, Malone pushed him in the chest and was ready to fight him].

I still have that program stuffed in a box in my garage.

And I’m guessing thousands and thousands of basketball fans everywhere, have autographs, photos, and memories of the man from the Planet Lovetron. Nobody spread the love to the fans more, and I like to think he’s dunking over Wilt Chamberlain on that big basketball court in the sky.