Is There a Doctor in the House?

As I commented last week, it was a busy 10 days or so in my social life. But as a former Social Chairman for the Virginia Psi chapter of Pi Lambda Phi, I have to expect that, right? I saw Adam Ant in Richmond, Jack Johnson in Virginia Beach, the Psychedelic Furs in Norfolk, and a Grateful Dead cover band at a burger bar in my neighborhood. All highly enjoyable.

Wedged in between Jack and the Furs, however, was something non-musical in nature but just as worthy of singing about. The Squires came back to town!

You see, from 1970 to 1976, there was an American Basketball Association (ABA) team here in Norfolk, VA called the Virginia Squires. For six glorious seasons (okay, two great ones, a so-so one, one weak one, and two of the most putrid campaigns ever recorded), the Squires rocked Norfolk (and Hampton, Richmond, and Roanoke on occasion) at the ODU Fieldhouse and then Scope Arena.

If time has unfairly diminished the ABA’s importance in hoops history, then it has nearly wiped clean the national memory of the Virginia Squires. That said, for one night last week in Norfolk, it became apparent that many locals have never forgotten. While I was just 3 ½ weeks old on October 17, 1970, when the inaugural Squires defeated the Pittsburgh Condors 133-116 behind 29 points from the great Charlie Scott, that night a number of folks older than I began a fondness for the hometown team in their red, white and blue that has endured through decades of dormancy.

The cause for the reunion was a documentary on the Squires, and in particular their owner: The Dream Maker: The Earl Foreman Story.

Dream Maker 2017 Trailer from Eric Futterman on Vimeo.

Sadly timed, the Dream Maker died in January of this year, but his family, friends, and players came out to a theater in downtown Norfolk take in a screening, tell old jokes, and remember the man and the time.

Who was there?
In the weeks that preceded the event, announcements were made on Facebook and the like regarding who was being recruited to come back to Norfolk for it. 

• Early ins were coach Al Bianchi, Jumbo Jim Eakins, and ODU alum and Squire Dave Twardzik. 
• Mike Barr and Neil Johnson, old Squires.
• Charlie Scott, one of the true Squires greats in the early years, posted. All smiles.
• Lefty Driesell showed (as a former recruiter of Charlie Scott, friend of the Foreman family, and former hoops coach at a couple local high schools here) and spoke (until Charlie Scott gave him the much-needed hook.
• Celebrating Virginia hoops? Why not Johnny Newman?  He looked sharp and like he could still play.
• A number of others... ESPN's Charlie Neal MCed, and he recognized them all.

I had missed the late announcements that the two most prominent Squires would indeed attend.  I didn't realize that 8 rows in front of me were the Doctor and the Ice Man.  Julius Erving and George Gervin were only teammates for part of a season, but two of the top 50 NBA players of all time dunked and finger-rolled on the same court at Scope, and it makes this small-market town proud. They were acknowledged and got some Virginia love.

After the credits rolled, the Squires were clapped out.  At the end of my row, I talked for a second with Charlie Scott (the dude next to me had a Virginian-Pilot picture from 1972 with him as a kid and Charlie that the big man signed), I got a head nod from George Gervin, and I had the most brief of cool encounters with my favorite player as a kid, Dr. J.  Erving was walking up the row and stopped for a handshake.

Okay, so as "meeting" famous people go, it obviously pales in comparison to a lot of stories, but I'll take it.  With another second or two to plan, I would have thought to thank him for coming to Norfolk and that while larger cities might take that kind of thing for granted, it means a great deal to us and to these old Squires fans.

Yeah.  I pretty much couldn't believe he paused to say hi, marveled at how much his paw engulfed my hand, and just said, "Hey, how's it going, Doc?"  If' I'd said, "What's up, Doc?" I hope he would have punched me.  Lord.

As I continued to mumble something, he smiled and said good, thanks, then someone grabbed him and told him he was needed in some sort of VIP area.  I'm not a VIP. I didn't even get a friggin' picture, though there is tell that one of the other dudes around me snapped one.

The documentary is worthy.  Amateurish at times (criminy, learn to spell Phoenix), but good interviews and footage and a fine tribute to Earl Foreman.  As importantly to 600 Norfolkers on a Thursday night in the old downtown, it was a terrific encapsulation of a moment in time when we had a pro team and some of the greatest talent of all time.  Tons of fun.