AccessMyLibrary provides FREE access to over 30 million articles from top publications available through your library.
Create a link to this page
Copy and paste this link tag into your Web page or blog:
One of my nicknames when I played for the Lakers was Superman, not for my ability but for those big, black Clark Kent glasses. I wore them every time I played from the seventh grade through 14 seasons in the NBA. Without my glasses, if I was standing on a corner, I couldn't read a sign on the other side of the street.
All the way through high school, I heard my share of "four eyes" catcalls and, really, they bothered me up until college. No kid wants to be different, and the glasses added to my already odd look I was tall, skinny--6-7, 180 as a senior in high school--and all of my height was in my long legs. I had started wearing glasses in third grade, and being sports-oriented, it seemed like every weekend we were going back to the store to get them fixed. By junior high, my dad had enough. He asked if there was such a thing as an indestructible pair of glasses. The guy slapped a pair of those big, black ones on my face, and that was it.
When I first made the starting lineup for the Lakers, I noticed a group of young fans in the Forum wearing the same style of glasses. At first, I thought they were mocking me. Through our PR director, I arranged to meet them for lunch so I could ask them to knock it off. But when I walked into the Forum Club, you would have thought Magic Johnson, Jack Nicholson and Jennifer Lopez had walked into the room at the same time, with all the adulation they threw at me. I was embarrassed that I was thinking of asking them to quit. They were such genuine fans, and they were acknowledging their appreciation for the way I played. After that, even on the road, you often could spot small groups of fans wearing black ...