BY BILL WALTON

I was privileged and most fortunate in the course my career to play with three unbelievable small forwards: Larry Bird, Jamaal Wilkes and Bobby Gross.

I also luckily played for three coaches -- John Wooden, Jack Ramsay and Red Auerbach -- who were masters at figuring out the right combinations of players. They were never about just putting the five top individuals on the floor together; it was always about what group of players would make the best team. And the team game is where Bobby flourished.

It was a thing of beauty to watch Bobby paint his daily masterpiece, but it was even better to play with him. He was such a fierce competitor and joyous performer, but he is also a truly remarkable human being, father and husband. All of the traits that made Bobby such a unique and classic basketball player are engrained in the essence of his soul.

More than anything, Bobby just wanted to win. He lived for the subtle nature of mental competition. During the playoff run of the Blazers’ championship season, Bobby went head to head first against Chicago’s Mickey Johnson and Scott May, then Denver’s Hall of Famer David Thompson, then Los Angeles’ Cazzie Russell, and ultimately in The Finals against the incomparable Dr. J. By the end, Bobby had outplayed them all. He won the NBA title for us, but in convoluted irony, they gave me all the credit.

That Blazer squad was such a special team--- driven by the visionary dreams of Jack Ramsay and the unrelenting passion of the Blazermaniacs. We rode the leadership, toughness and skill level of Maurice Lucas. But to make it complete we needed the fluidity, grace, dignity, class and brilliance of Bobby Gross. He could do anything. He was so fast and his hands just perfect. You could throw the worst pass in the world and he would turn it into gold. And he never overplayed any situation or opportunity.

While Lionel and Johnny were Mozart, with the speed, dexterity and incredibly delicate touch, while Maurice was Beethoven with the crashing thunder, Bobby’s dynamic smoothness was a combination of Chopin and Shubert.

We never would have won the championship without Bobby Gross, who was as fine an athlete and human being as I’ve ever had the privilege of playing with. He was the lubrication that allowed everything to flow.

But one thing has always bothered me to this very day. It was just so perplexing, sad and embarrassing that when Maurice Lucas and Lloyd Neal would screw everything up, Coach Ramsay would inevitably blame Bobby and throw HIM out of practice! What is up with THAT !!!!!

Bobby was so brilliant with his wit, yet always accepting the whipping boy position that Jack Ramsay put him in. Simply put, Bobby was just smarter than everybody else. He knew what was going to happen before everybody else did. His ability to anticipate and figure out the next move was critical to our team, because we had the fastest guards in the league, the premier power forward in the NBA and a genius for a coach, but Bobby was responsible for the style and the movement. Bobby separated that team from the pack because he was always able to up the tempo.

We all grew up in an era when it was all about the team. It’s awkward to have individual recognition, but it’s even more awkward that it’s taken this long for people to realize what a critically important piece of the puzzle that Bobby Gross was. He made it happen! It was everything about him. It was his selflessness. It was his skill. It was his mental acuity. It was his sense of spacing. It was his hands. It was his touch. It was his brain. It was his personality. And it was the joy with which he competed that was so infectious.

And it was never about him. It was always about the team winning, always about the greater goal of the group. It was just incredibly inspirational.