Three weeks ago, I spent an afternoon in [John Wooden’s] Encino condo, which must be one of the most amazing 1500 of square feet in all of Los Angeles. His Presidential Medal of Freedom hangs next to one from the local YMCA. His letter from Mother Teresa hangs near his great grand daughter’s report card. There are far more signed baseballs (his favorite sport) than basketballs, and nearly as many books about Abraham Lincoln (his hero) than there are jellybeans (his weakness.)
I like going to Wooden’s house for the same reason people like going to church: It makes me want to be a better man.
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My hatred for Rick Reilly and his writing was outweighed by my respect for John Wooden.