In life, certain goals keep us going. Sometimes these goals are unattainable, and yet we’ll obsess over them to the detriment of other important goals. Maybe it’s a crush on the girl at the coffee shop. Each of your thoughts revolve around her, each action dictated by hers. Before you know it, you you’ve eaten a block of cheese, sniffed too much paint, and ignored everything around you that should matter. Everybody has their white whale. Mine was a giant green-and-purple buck.
Above, we have an authentic (preseason) game-worn Milwaukee “Big Buck” Bucks jersey. The player whose jersey it was? Freeman. He never played an regular-season NBA game, and rumor has it he doesn’t have a first name (if you don’t know why I “named” him Lester, you need to reevaluate your priorities). But, names seem rather trivial when you are dealing with humankind’s finest fashion accomplishment since the goddamned toga.
For years, I salivated over pictures of this jersey, typically a Ray Allen or Glenn Robinson outfit. It was always the most rare and expensive jersey on the internet, and its mystique captivated me. You wouldn’t believe the weird-ass shit I encountered during my years scouring the web for this jersey. Suffice to say, “giant purple buck” can return some strange Google results.
Despite my manic efforts and ignored homework assignments, I managed to graduate high school. Somewhere in the universe, a divine purple-and-green buck was watching over me. He manifested himself as my brother and co-blogger, Jesse Gainsburg, who rewarded my efforts by getting me an authentic “Big Buck” jersey as a graduation gift.
For better or worse, I’ll never be the same.
What’s your memory of the 1990s Bucks? Comment on the article or e-mail us at AGRbasketball (at) gmail (dot) com. Don’t forget to follow @AGRbasketball on Twitter and to like us on Facebook.