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The point-forward position has a long and honorable history. Think of Rick Barry, John Johnson, Anthony Mason and LeBron James. Notice that all of these guys were (and are) small forwards.

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But sometimes his intensity got the better of him.

The Rockford Lightning were concluding a practice session and were huddled in the lane while I reminded the players about our upcoming road trip. "Be at the airport at such and such a time. We'll be gone for eight days so..." Even as they shuffled their feet, the guys were paying as much attention as they could muster.

Suddenly, Spivey took a step toward the basket, jumped and violently slammed the ball through the basket. Then he caught the ball on a high bounce, leaped for the sky, and re-dunked with the same awesome energy. He repeated this routine five times, six times, seven times...again and again and again. Working up a running sweat, but working in total silence, not even grunting with the effort.

After perhaps a dozen slams, he suddenly stopped, and resumed his spot in the loose huddle.

The rest of us were speechless, until I finally asked, "Ron, what was that? Why did you do that?"

He looked at me with his calm brown eyes, and said this: "Do what?"

Living in the wacky world of the CBA was enough to drive sane men to undertake insane acts.