Advertisement
YOU ARE HERE: LAT HomeCollectionsSports

Upbeat Dad

An injured Bill Walton can't be with his son during the playoffs, but he gets his message across to the Lakers' forward

BILL PLASCHKE

May 25, 2008|Bill Plaschke

The e-mails are filled with pain.

Bill Walton wishes to keep the details of those e-mails private, but you don't need to know details to understand that pain.


Advertisement

He misses his job. He misses his game. He misses his life.

More than all that, he misses his son.

"Could you tell Luke how much I love him?" he writes.

------

The voice mails are filled with laughter.

Luke Walton doesn't do e-mail, so this is all he hears, his father calling him before each of the Lakers' first two postseason series with an important message.

An imitation of an opposing star talking trash.

Before the first series, the imitation was of Carmelo Anthony, four minutes of Anthony telling Luke how much the Denver Nuggets were going to kick his butt.

Before the second series, the imitation was of Carlos Boozer, four minutes of the same thing, only this time promising that the Utah Jazz would kick his butt.

"I played the voice mails for my teammates, they're really pretty funny," Luke says.

Before the current series against the San Antonio Spurs, though, the tenor changed.

"He said he wanted to imitate Tim Duncan, but Tim Duncan doesn't talk trash so he couldn't," Luke says, shaking his head, missing it.

------

The pain that the father shares with his friends and associates, he tries to hide from the son.

Sadness in one message, lightness in another.

Bill Walton recently spent much of an entire month lying on the floor of his San Diego home in agony, but his son wasn't going to feel it.

Bill Walton has been absent from his celebrated duties as an ESPN basketball commentator for three months because of serious back and hip problems, but his son wasn't going to miss a step.

Bill Walton did not want to be interviewed for any story about the effect of his condition on his son because there would be no effect, he would not allow it.

"I am not the story," Bill writes. "Luke is the story."

In all, a nice fatherly try.

But it hasn't worked.

For three months, no matter what his father has said, Luke has heard him, and felt him, and sometimes struggled without him.

While his father has been in hiding from the rest of the sports world -- his absence particularly conspicuous during these NBA playoffs -- he is in the center of his son's mind and game.

"As an athlete, I know what he's going through, it's really hard, I really feel for him," Luke says. "As a son, well, I just really miss him."

Los Angeles Times Articles
|