Crazy, crazy sequence of events. Here’s a picture of Greg Ostertag. This guy was a professional basketball player with the Utah Jazz. In 1996 I played a game at Reunion Arena before the Dallas Mavericks played the Utah Jazz.

At some point in time during the game, Ostertag came out and watched part of the game. There was one point in time that I was called for a foul against someone. While he was shooting free throws, I was standing on the block closest to the goal and Ostertag yelled out to me, “hey big man.”

When I looked at him, he said, “Go straight up.”

I asked Ostertag “Was it a foul‽” and his response was “Did the ref call it‽”

I said “yes” and he said “ok then”.

I’ve never forgotten that moment. Partly because I got basketball advice from a 7’-2” center. But also because I thought it was cool that he took time out of his schedule to watch us play and then offer some advice to little ole me. That was cool. I’ve always respected him for that.

Now fast forward to this weekend and I’m catering a wedding. And, low-and-behold, who walks in the door‽ Yup…Mr. 7’-2” himself. Ostertag walked in. I wanted to go up to him so bad and tell him how much that night impacted me. But I didn’t I didn’t say a thing. Maybe I’ll regret that. Perhaps I’ll get a chance to tell him again in the future. I don’t know. But what I do know is that for a moment Friday I was reminded about an NBA player that gave a little bit of guidance to high school senior.