Two Chicago Bulls Legends Go That Few will Forget

I remember sitting on the couch with my high school theology homework in my lap, my overweight 130 pound black lab sitting at my father's feet as he rocked in a chair just a few feet away from me.

It was a ritual. In thick and endless Chicago winters this is what we had, we had Bulls basketball--the kind that won, at least. And we rarely missed an appointment.

• Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Dennis Rodman, Tony Kukoc, Phil Jackson--even dopey Luc Longley. We knew the names, knew the game, knew the scouting reports.

But like a Martin Scorcese epic, there is so much to a film's gravitas than its main stars. There are the guys in the background making strong-jawed grimmaces and comical quips about police work or running numbers.

These guys, like in Goodfellas and The Departed, were more than fillers. They were necessary elements of a masterpiece. And such as the magical Chicago Bulls of the 1990s--Stormin' Norman Van Lier and Johnny Red Kerr.

One sweet and sour and the other sweet.

They were a vital part of our Bulls lives; my father often looked forward to Van Lier's unapologetic commentary at both half time and the post game show. He'd often blast Longley because he was Longley. But he'd even dare cross the line and get after Michael and Scottie at times.

Yes, while our memories remember nothing but the good times, there were games when the greats were at fault and Norm wasn't afraid to say so. He was Charles Barkley before he became a national basketball pundit and genuine funny fat guy.

I remember a close friend of mine, who is not known for exagerration, told me he actually picked up Van Lier who was looking for a cab on a cold January night a few years back. Both were out drinking and my friend, a complete stranger to the broadcaster, offered to give him a ride home.

Van Lier, as many of us know lived hard and played hard, was a friendly and informal as can be and was overwhelmed of this stranger's kindess. He'd even promised to buy him a drink "next time."

Make no mistake, this man was a Chicago sports icon.

Sadly, Van Lier felt shorted that he was not invited to Johnny Red Kerr's tribute less than a month ago and even said what most men would rarely say in public, he was "hurt."

That was honesty and he was never short of it. It will certainly be missed.

And Kerr's lighthearted quips were just as pleasant in a ironic way. His legend does need to be explained in detail as we remembered the man a very short time ago.

Those glory days have past and like a Scorcese classic, we can always pop in a DVD, but nothing is better than the first time.