They got the ball and got a foul to bring the score down to four points, our favor. Roy tried a short jumper from the outside, and McDade climbed over my back to get it. He was pushing me, elbowing, and just about wrestling me whenever I got near the ball.

I figured I’d have to pick this cat to get free, so I put Ox outside and me inside and ran a forward pick. Only instead of trying to go through the pick, McDade hooked his arm in mine. I pushed him away as hard as I could.

When the whistle blew, I thought it was going to be a foul on McDade, but the ref was calling a technical on me for unsportsmanlike conduct. I couldn’t believe it!

“The cat is all over me!” I screamed. “He’s pulling my shirt and everything else!”

The referee just looked at me as if I was crazy. I got a towel and wiped my face as McDade blew the technical. Lenny asked me if I wanted to take myself out, and I said no.

They came down, and I backed off McDade, hoping they’d throw him the ball. They did and he started to drive and I went after him. He pulled up real quick and started a jumper from about the foul line. Roy must have went up thirty-five feet in the air and smacked it downcourt. Breeze got the ball, but they recovered, and Roy called a play. He called a right-side screen for Breeze. I rolled left to get out of the way. But when Roy got the ball and tried to pass it to Breeze, they slapped it away. It came to me, and I took it straight in. I started up, and McDade threw his shoulder into my gut.

He fell down on top of me, elbows first, and stayed on me until they got the ball. I put my hand in his face and pushed him off, and the ref called a foul on me.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked.

The ref spun around with his hands in a T. He was calling a second technical foul on me.

“You’re blind, man!”

“Get off the court!” the ref screamed at me. The vein on his neck was sticking out. “Get off the court!”

Some of the people in the stands started booing, and somebody threw an apple core on the court. Paul had me from the back, and Ox was in front of me, pushing me off the court. Somebody was taking pictures.

They started pushing me towards the locker room.

“Take it easy, man!” It was Sweet Man Johnson. “You’re out of the game, so shut up.”

“Why should I leave?” I shouted at him. “The cat was all over me. Anybody can see that!”

“Look, the game is over for you,” Johnson said. “You either leave now or they’ll throw your whole team out of the tournament!”

I went on into the locker room and sat on the bench. I couldn’t even think straight. Did he say I was out of the whole game? I had two technicals; I had to be out. I didn’t know what was going on. I went to the door of the locker room and looked over to our bench. Johnson was squatting in front of the guys. He was coaching them.