Nick Of Time

For a team often saddled with a "curse" label, the Orlando Magic did everything right on Friday night.

By "the Orlando Magic," I mean the front office, not just the basketball team, although the guys in sneakers did okay. The 29-point throttling of the Cavaliers was a clinic in ball movement and team defense, led by a suddenly spry second unit of Arroyo (see, you love him, don't you), Milicic, Dooling, Outlaw, and Turkoglu. The Magic had twice as many assists, eight more rebounds, three fewer turnovers, and 13 more points off turnovers than a Cleveland team headed for the Eastern Conference playoffs. All of that is well, good, and desperately needed, but none of it topped the list of chill-bump moments at the TD Waterhouse Centre.

Number 25 was back in the 'House.

Nick Anderson, the Magic's first ever collegiate draft pick from the expansion days of 1989, was honored in the building where he spent a decade as a pro. Festivities included an on-court presentation between the first and second quarters, lengthy interviews on Sun Sports before, during, and after the game, and the unveiling of a permanent banner with his likeness on the concourse.

That morning, before shootaround, I approached Nick to get some comments on former teammates Scott Skiles and Dennis Scott, who are slated to be similarly honored during future Magic games as part of the team's "Commitment to the Past" campaign. He made a funny comment to the assembled media about watching Sun Sports and telling his friends that "he knew me." It set the tone for what turned out to be one of the most enjoyable Magic games of the season.

Nick spent two full segments with us on the Sun Sports pregame show that night, and he was warm, engaging, appreciative, and completely in the moment. After the first quarter, he walked to center court and received a framed reproduction of the aforementioned banner, and was handed a microphone to address the crowd.

His comments were from the heart. He spoke of how Orlando had embraced him "from the moment I stepped off the plane from Chicago," how much he valued his time with the Magic, and how appreciative -- there's that word again -- he was of this evening. Judging from the sellout crowd's reaction, Nick could have run for mayor and won by a landslide. Players on both teams, most of whom were in grade school when Anderson was peaking as a pro, stepped out of their huddles to applaud. It was one of those rare occasions in sports marketing when an orchestrated moment takes on a life of its own, organically, and blossoms. Proof that honoring Anderson was the right thing to do.

Not only is Anderson still the franchise's all-time leader in games played, points, and steals, but he was the original Mr. Clutch in Central Florida. Players often talk about "wanting the ball in my hands" in crunch time, usually with mixed results. Number 25 delivered. I hope you watched the halftime feature we dug up from 1993 and aired on Friday. "Nick's Buzzer-Beaters" could have been its own half-hour pilot.

Nick has always been one of my favorite basketball players, but he was never one of my favorite people, going back to my tenure as a broadcasting intern and television producer for the Magic. Too often during our crossover years of 1993 through 1997, Nick came off like a typical star athlete -- blowing off scheduled interviews, offering little in the way of useful commentary, generally acting surly. At least, that's how I remember it. It was a long time ago, and I was pretty young. So was he, for that matter.

The Nick Anderson who appeared in Orlando on Friday night, impeccably dressed and in phenomenal shape for an ex-player, is a person I could really like. Somewhere between then and now, he grew up. I'm tempted to write "humbled," but that's too much of a backhanded compliment. He just grew up, and we're the better for it. Put simply, Nick was an absolute delight. Charming, honored, and yes, appreciative. Good for him, and kudos to the Magic for knocking it out of the park.

The next step, of course, is to make sure that no Magic player ever wears 25 again.

Officially, the Magic have no retired uniform numbers. There's a banner at the TD Waterhouse Centre sporting the number 6 for "The Fans," but it's a gesture. As I recall, Patrick Ewing wore 6 during his brief tenure in Orlando. It's time to start lifting some real jerseys to the rafters, and the no-brainer place to start is with Number 25.

Beyond Nick, it's tough to decide who should earn this honor. Do you retire Shaq's 32? Yes, he put Orlando on the NBA map, and took the team to the 1995 Finals, but the bulk of his career, and his success, came elsewhere. As hard as it is to believe, O'Neal only spent four years with the Magic. If the Basketball Hall of Fame asked for a "cap" during inductions, as baseball does, Shaq would be wearing Laker purple and gold. That said, both teams have an argument for retiring his number. Miami, check back in a couple of years.

Number 1? Penny Hardaway was among the five best players in the league during his time with the Magic, and the same could be said about Tracy McGrady, although I'd take 1995 Penny for my team over 2003 T-Mac any day of the week. Regardless, which name goes on the jersey? And again, do you honor players who left under less than ideal circumstances? Retiring a jersey should be a nod not just to stats, but to complete contributions, and impact on the franchise. Put it this way -- I'd like to see Darrell Armstrong's number 10 go up before number 1, and anyone who spent any time watching this team over the last ten years can immediately understand where I'm going with this.

54 for Horace Grant? 3 for Dennis Scott? 4 for Scott Skiles? None are obvious, all have merit. The only layup in the bunch, of course, is 25.