I REMEMBER that day so well. That was the day after my birthday—November 12, 2003. A friend of mine was able to get me courtside seats to the New Jersey Nets-San Antonio Spurs game. There were three things that made that day special. I was able to get tickets to a New York Giants game and, well, I got a jersey from the Spurs’ Manu Ginobili.
I got to the then Continental Airlines Arena early in East Rutherford. At that time, I was staying in Jersey City, and the drive to the venue wasn’t too far. I was rooting for the Nets to be honest, but I was also a fan of Ginobili. I had been one since his days at Virtus Bologna in Italy.
During an early shoot-around, it was just Manu on the floor. The ball went my way once, and I tossed it back to him. Second time around, it went my way and I tossed it back. The third time I got up and flicked it back to him. A nice bounce pass (that I thought Jason Kidd would be proud of).
He came over and asked if I was a Spurs fan. I told him I rooted for the Nets but was also a fan of his. He asked how so. I mentioned his stint in Italy and how I’d follow him on the Internet. I mustered the urge and the nerve to ask if I can have a photo with him and how it would make a nice birthday gift, since it was my birthday the day before. He said let’s do this after the game and went back inside. He later rejoined his team for the official shootaround.
The Spurs won that rematch of last year’s National Basketball Association finalists. I don’t recall the score. I do remember it was a close one. I have to admit though that I didn’t care at that moment because I wanted a picture with Manu. With all the post-game stuff going on and security rushing to the floor, I thought, “Well, that’s that” as the Spurs made their way to the locker room. I turned around to leave.
About three steps later, there was a hand on my shoulder. It was Manu. “Hey, I didn’t forget.” We got that picture on an instamatic disposable Kodak camera of mine. Then much to my surprise, he took off his sweaty jersey and handed it to me, “Happy Birthday!” he said, after which he took off.
I was floored. Literally. I sat on the nearest seat. “I never even got to thank him,” I said aloud to no one in particular. One of the security people said, “No need, fella. He saw the look on your face, and that is good enough.”
I wasn’t sure if I was going to wash that jersey when I got home. I did and wore it the next day while walking the streets of Manhattan. No one cursed me. I did get quite a few compliments, and I was walking on clouds.
Fifteen years after that day, I still have the jersey. It’s well-worn, and I have used it playing hoops and even sleeping in it. And that jersey remains one of my most prized possessions.
I may have not been a Spurs fan, but I have appreciated their game. And of course, Manu for what he brought to the team.
When he announced his retirement from the National Basketball Association after 16 long years (23 overall), I watched his farewell video. I brought out that old jersey—no I didn’t put it on for fear of ripping it as I have put on weight since then—and reminisced. It was a light-hearted one and, well, different. Awkward was a word he used. It was also the way he played—awkward and unorthodox. And that made him very difficult to guard. And what a player he turned out to be.
As a kid, he watched that tape of Michael Jordan’s “Come Fly With Me” until it would no longer play. Fortunately, he too has made his own highlight tape. And what a story too Manu Ginobili should make the Hall of Fame. Of that I am certain.
Thanks for the big games, Manu. And I got a nice memory of it too.