Back when I was in college one of my roommates, a kid named Paul Duer, offered up his life philosophy. “It’s all about the stories,” he’d say.


“Life. It’s a collection of stories that you can tell. That’s what it’s all about.”

Paul was 21, and ahead of his time. Life is all about the stories. The small ones, the big ones, the seemingly insiginificant-yet-uproarious ones. I love hearing people’s stories, and I love experiening something that I can’t wait to tell.

Like, for example, tonight.

Attended the Warriors-Lakers game at the Staples Center. The press turnout was relatively sparse, so I was positioned in the third media row back behind the baseline. It was a pretty sweet seat—no complaints.

Anyhow, I’m sitting there working and Norm Nixon, the former All-Star Laker/Clipper point guard, walks by. Norm is now a broadcaster, and he attends all the home games. He stops, looks at me and says, “How is your seat better than mine?”

Without skipping a beat I smiled and replied, “Because I’m Jeff Pearlman.”

Norm paused, then laughed. “That must be it,” he said.