RIP George Mikan

I'm standing there, about 20 feet from the basket. I've picked up my dribble. I am too heavily defended to consider shooting. All my teammates defenders are clogging the passing lanes... except one. One teammate stands on the "right block," his arms spread like an eagle's wings. He signals me to throw it to his outstretched left hand. He catches the ball. He executes a series of patented moves and scores.

Then we run down to the other court and play defense. A cutting guard penetrates the lane with the ball. Again, my same teammate totally obscures the penetrator's view of the basket. the guard throws up a wild shot which my same teammate immediately rebounds and outlets to me. He then runs down to the other side of the court, where we repeat the same series of events described in paragraph one. Damn, I love this teammate! Ok, this was only a dream I had, but still...

It's one thing to be a big man. It's another thing to know how to play the game. It's yet another thing to REALLY know how to play the game.

The first BIG MAN to know how to REALLY play the game was George Mikan.

RIP, George.