By Eric Neel
Page 2

Monday, November 15, 2004

In 1974, because I loved the double-jointed genius of Spencer Haywood and the splay-legged flair of Fred Brown, I was a huge Sonics fan. I clipped their box scores out of the morning paper and taped each one into a little black notebook. I quoted player points-assists-and-rebounds lines like I was reading chapter and verse. I figured home-and-away splits, fourth-quarter shooting percentages, and matchup results (how Spence tended to do against Rick Barry, etc.) on columnar sheets like the ones ...

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