NBA Insider with Ken Berger

My man Glauber, who is up to his neck in Giants playoff coverage and in dire need of comic relief, weighed in with a cryptic comment on my blog this morning. If you read the comments, you'll see that all he wrote was, "Do Bock!"

Herewith, I'll explain the origin of that comment. It's a good story from my previous life traveling the country covering the NBA and other things for The Associated Press.

In the summer of '98, I had flown to Salt Lake City while covering the Jazz-Bulls in the NBA Finals. As a result, I was able to witness one of my favorite memories covering the NBA -- Michael Jordan standing and posing after swishing the game-winning jumper over a prone Bryon Russell to give him his sixth and final championship. But that's another story.

When I arrived at the Salt Lake City Courtyard Marriott, venerable AP sports writer Hal Bock was slumped in a chair in the lobby. As I made my way to the front desk to check in, I heard Hal's unmistakable New York baritone beckoning me. "Bergah," he bellowed. "Come ovah hee-ah."

I'll recreate the conversation as best I can from memory:

"Hal, how are you doin?" I said.

"Bergah," he responded. "How old ah you?"

At the time, I was 27, so that's what I told him.

"Get out!" he roared. "Get out of this !@$!@$@ business before they ruin you!"

I asked Hal what he meant, and he explained his woes. He'd been in Chicago for the middle portion of the series. As far as he knew, he was supposed to fly to Salt Lake to see the series through to the end.

While connecting in Phoenix, he'd called the home office back in New York to check in. He was told the sports editor wanted to speak with him.

There'd been a mixup. Sports columnist Jim Litke, and not Hal, was supposed to continue on to Salt Lake City. Hal was asked if there was any way he could turn around and fly home, as his services weren't needed.

"I could," he replied, "except that my luggage is on its way to Salt Lake City."

So Hal continued on to Utah, picked up his luggage, and booked a flight home for the next morning. He would miss Jordan's heroics, although he and I were able to share a breakfast of soupy eggs and overcooked toast at the Courtyard breakfast lounge before he headed to the airport.

Over breakfast, Hal complained about how there were "no amenities in this hotel." The beds were uncomfortable, no room service, etc., etc. He called the Courtyard "The Graveyard." And off he went back to New York.

But not before asking me to perform my dead-on Hal Bock impersonation. You see, Glauber is one colleague who is well aware of my talent for impersonations. I'm no Frank Caliendo, but I assure you I can do a better Hal Bock, Herman Edwards, Mike Westhoff, Pete Kendall, and Kevin Mawae than Frank Caliendo.

Anyway, somewhere along the line Bock got word of my spot-on Bock impersonation. He enjoyed hearing me do it, and his prompt for me to launch into Bock-isms was the simple phrase, "Do Bock!"

There ya go.

Bock, by the way, is retired from the AP and living comfortably in East Williston, LI. I occasionally get together with him and Chris Sheridan, AP's former NBA writer, for some laughs and much better food than we enjoyed at the Graveyard at my favorite restaurant -- Park Side in Corona.

Hal will begin teaching a sports writing class at LIU at the end of the month. I wonder if he'll tell the Graveyard story?