For the time being, Ard is putting all the ifs and buts out of his mind. His wife, daughter, and now nine-month-old son are arriving tomorrow, and, when the furniture gets here, they’ll move into an apartment he’s rented in Peabody.
Tag Archives: ABA
Artis Gilmore: Sleeping Giant of Florida, 1966
Artis is Florida’s sleeping giant. He’s been blessed with height, hindered by inexperience, and hurt by lack of exposure.
Another Quiet Thursday Night with the Miami Floridians, 1971
Oh, what a night it was. Virginia Squires vs. Miami Floridians
Joe Caldwell: Can I Get a Witness, 1975, 1993
The boycott of Caldwell was an extreme form of intimidation because it destroyed the career of an established, star player.
Billy Cunningham: Tale of Two Leagues, 1974
“It’s a different life four months a year. I get up when I want to. I don’t play basketball at all. I visit friends and stay with my family. As a professional, I live in two different worlds. I live two different lives.”
John Brisker: The Cream Always Rises to the Top, 1971
For a man who wasn’t even allowed to start for a college coach, John Brisker has come a long way.
David Brent: Strawberry Fields For Never, 1973
David Brent was not the first St. Louisan to sign a professional basketball contract. It is doubtful, though, that any other St. Louis athlete ever encountered the incredulous twists and turns that the David Brent story has taken.
Earl Strom: NBA’s Oldest Referee Does It His Way, 1982
Earl Strom officiates with his whistle in his hand. His partner, Joe Gushue, wore his on a lanyard. Strom suggested that Gushue remove the lanyard before they reach the exit, so that fans couldn’t get such an easy hold of him.
George McGinnis: Would You Believe . . . A Strong Julius Erving . . . A Tall Elgin Baylor?
At the age of 22, McGinnis has already been compared—favorably—with a man many considered the finest and most complete forward in basketball history—Elgin Baylor.
Julius Erving: The Greatest Show on Earth, 1973
Did Erving need the big-time to feed his ego, feeling perhaps that he’d suffer the sort of way Henry Aaron did by playing in towns where he didn’t get much national publicity? “No, I don’t feel that way,” said Erving. “All during my basketball career and life, the acknowledgement of me has been in a very limited sense.”
From Way Downtown 