"Experiencing My Own Bill Walton Moment"

On Monday evening's episode of PTI, as Michael Wilbon bid farewell to the late Bill Walton, he concluded with a poignant statement: "Everybody’s got a story."

And indeed, I can affirm that sentiment.

In 1991, amidst my recovery from a severe injury sustained in a jogging accident involving a car, I managed to attend a Cardinal hoops game at Freedom Hall, albeit on crutches.

Struggling down the steps to my seat, I encountered Bill Walton, who was covering the game for TV. He paused, inquiring about my well-being and the circumstances of my injury.

Walton, intimately familiar with surgeries and enduring pain, having undergone 39 surgeries himself, offered genuine words of encouragement. It wasn't a fleeting gesture; he took several minutes to chat with me before continuing on his way.

Everybody’s got a story.

And from the flood of tributes following his passing, it's evident that Bill Walton was a profoundly decent human being—caring, curious, and compassionate, always interested in others' well-being.

For those of us who watched him provide color commentary during games, especially alongside Dave Pash, Walton seemed to hail from another universe, or perhaps another planet. It took me some time to warm up to his eccentric charm and boundless enthusiasm, but eventually, I came to cherish it.

What a remarkable individual.

What an extraordinary basketball player.

Undoubtedly, he ranks among the greatest collegiate basketball players of all time, perhaps even topping the list.

In the NCAA title game against Memphis State, he famously made 21 of 22 shots, though the official record fails to account for four additional dunks that were nullified due to the era's ban on dunking. Hooks, turnarounds, layups—Walton's performance was nothing short of spectacular.

Yes, his opponent, 6-8 Ronnie Robinson, was outmatched. But in a championship game, shooting 25/26 against any opponent would be astounding.

During his tenure, UCLA fell short of the title in one season out of his three years, a fact Walton attributes, in part, to off-court distractions. As revealed in the enlightening 30 for 30 documentaries on Walton's life, the team's indulgence in recreational activities irked the ever-strict John Wooden. When questioned, Walton staunchly denied any involvement, shielding his teammates from repercussions.

Walton remained steadfast in his belief that UCLA would have triumphed over North Carolina State had Greg Lee not been dismissed from the team due to his honesty about his own actions.

Everyone has stories to share.

Including Walton himself.

That he passed away on the heels of the final conference game in the Conference of Champions, an institution he cherished, feels almost poetic.

Bill Walton, known for his affinity for Dead shows, may your dance endure eternally.