Blog Posting #57, May 17, 2009

Rebounding

You’re Not a “Rebounder” Until Your Rebounding Ticks Somebody Off

There are rebounders and then there are “rebounders.” Rebounders that make a difference for their team are irritants, pests, and nuisances. Like persistent gnats, they get on your nerves, draw your attention, and—well, for lack of a better term—tick you off.

In 1976, the ABA folded and four teams were accepted into the NBA. Mine wasn’t one of them so I was picked up by the NBA team that had my rights: The Milwaukee Bucks. Larry Costello was head coach but half way through the season he retired and Don Nelson—then assistant—took over. Under Nelson, I flourished and led the league in rebounding the second half of the season.

Only weeks after Nelson took over, I was on a roll, grabbing close to 20 rebounds per game and, against the Atlanta Hawks, I set an all-time record of 18 defensive rebounds in one half. Our next game was against the New York Knicks. The All Star Game followed and it happened to be in Milwaukee. My wife and I flew in her mother and grandmother in to experience the event. They arrived the day before the Knicks game.

New York had a beefy rookie center, Lonny Shelton. Our height and weight were almost identical. It was to be a good matchup but, only five minutes into the game, I already had four offensive rebounds. Hubie Brown, Knicks head coach, angrily called a time out and, the entire time, I could hear him screaming at Shelton. Play resumed, the Knicks missed a shot, I got the rebound, and we transitioned to the offensive end. What happened next was something I never expected.

Bobby Dandridge took a jump shot and I started my move to the offensive board. Instead of using the conventional method of blocking me out, Lonnie Shelton came at me head on and threw both forearms into my chest. Now I was only a PE major, but I was smart enough to know this was not an act of friendship. But Lonnie was not through. He kept coming after me as if he wanted to fight.

Ever heard of the term, “Fight or Flight”? At the time, the first word seemed like a much more enjoyable option for me. I hit Shelton with a right. I was surprised at how easily I got through. So, I tried another and another and another an all of them landed exactly where I intended them to—in his face.

As the players tried to break it up, Lonnie and I ended up on the floor, his feet by my head and my feet by his head. I had already gotten to his face, but Lonnie made one last effort to get to mine. He began kicking but never made contact.

But that was not the most exciting thing that happened. When my wife’s grandmother saw the fight start, she got out of her seat and made her way onto the court, holding her purse. Nobody stopped her. She briskly and deliberately walked over to where the fight was. By the time she got there, Lonnie and I were already on the floor. Aiming carefully so she wouldn’t hit any of the other players or officials, she began trying to hit Lonnie with her purse. I didn’t see any of it, but I was told, it took more arena ushers to get her back in her seat than it took to unlock Shelton and I.

With grandma back in her seat, the announcement was made, Lonnie and I were both ejected from the game. I wasn’t hurt at all except for bloody knuckles, where Shelton had kept hitting me with his teeth. In the locker room, as I was receiving treatment, Wayne Embry, our GM came in and he didn’t look too happy. Now, Mr. Embry was bigger than I was. I was sitting on the trainer’s table so, when he walked up to me, I was looking up at him. The look on his face made me consider running.  

“Swen!” he said emphatically. (Then I saw a smile dawning.) “Great fight! I’ll pay the fine.” And he shook my hand.

There are many basketball players we can categorize as, “Players that rebound.” But they are not “Rebounders.” A “Rebounder” is a player that pursues every shot like it has his name on it. A “Rebounder” grabs about one rebound for every two minutes of playing time. These incessant gnats never take a play off, they keep coming, and they wear you down. And their signature is, when they begin wearing you down, they will begin to tick you off.

I didn’t write the above story to promote fighting in basketball and certainly not to get someone to begin making DVDs that train grandmas how to become accurate purse swingers. I wrote it because I want you to pass the following message on to any player that you think might have the potential to, someday, be decorated with the elite title of “Rebounder.” Here’s the message.

You’re not a “Rebounder” until your rebounding ticks somebody off. And, when you do, you’ll have a significant impact on the outcome of the game (That is, unless you get kicked out of the game.)