A Sporting Time in Kansas City

It is decidedly awkward to use the term "negro" in front of someone of the African-American persuasion.

I went to Kansas City this weekend. The missus had a music therapy conference, and I thought I'd use it as an excuse to see ma. And while there, I went to the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum.

As I hopped in a taxi, I noticed the cab driver was black. "I'd like to go to the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum, please" I mumbled awkwardly.

"EXCUSE ME??"

"The, uh, Baseball Museum?" I asked meekly.

He sort of stared at me in the rearview mirror.

"I think it's at 18th and Vine?" I said, as I rolled onto my back to show my submissiveness.

"Oh, OK," Black Cab Driver said, finally understanding where it was I wanted to go. My lack of assertiveness, I suspect, kept him from hearing me.

But seriously, you try saying, "negro," even in a totally innocent context, to the face of a black man, and you'll understand the anxiety. Black Cab Driver was perfectly nice, and we chatted the rest of the way to the museum.

And the museum is great. Don't go to Kansas City without seeing it.

That didn't end our sports excitement. Ma, ma's man, the missus, and I went to a fancy-pants steak place that happened to be in our hotel (the Hotel Phillips), and seated at a long table in the middle of everything was Larry Brown.

Larry Brown was, of course, the Knicks coach that got canned after last season, but I still think of him more as the last coach to lead Kansas University basketball to a national championship. Next to Larry was legendary North Carolina coach (and Kansas native) Dean Smith. Then there were a bunch of people I didn't recognize. Then at the end of the table were the longest legs I'd ever seen in my life. Even with his back to us, I immediately recognized him as Bill Russell. A couple seats from Bill was Oscar Robertson.

The following day, Dean, Bill, and Oscar were being inducted into the NCAA Basketball Hall of Fame, and Larry was introducing Dean. So they were eating some steaks to celebrate.

Bill Russell has the greatest high-pitched, joyful laugh you'll ever hear.