Bigfoot Lending Really Big Hand

Good deeds come naturally to Bob Lanier. He helped build the Boys Club bearing his name in Buffalo, N.Y. He is an active member of the Thurgood Marshall scholarship committee. He once served as president of the National Basketball Assn.’s player association. Bob Lanier gets involved.

David Stern, commissioner of the NBA, knew he had the right man for the job when he called Lanier two years ago and asked him to be the point man for professional basketball’s “Stay in School” efforts.

Ever since, big Bob has been cramming his nearly 7-foot frame and his legendary Size 20 shoes into commercial airplanes and traveling coast to coast, often leaving his family and private business behind, to meet with school kids eye to eye.

They rap. They talk about everything on their minds. Lanier is a patient listener. He doesn’t want to spout a couple of pathetic don’t-drop-out platitudes that leave the young people glassy-eyed and bored. He doesn’t want them thinking of him as some semi-celebrity do-gooder who is committed mostly to his own image.

“I want to work with kids because I have kids,” Lanier says. “I want them to be able to talk to me straight up, hold nothing back. When I was a kid myself, well, let’s just say I was involved with things that today I’m not proud of. But because somebody took the time to take somebody like Bob Lanier aside one day and talk to him, he became a better person.

“If even one student per city hears what I’m saying, it’s a positive thing.”

Lanier wasn’t crazy about school--few are--but he stuck with it long enough to gain a business degree from St. Bonaventure. The fact that he went on to become the NBA’s 17th-leading scorer with more than 19,000 points brought him fame and fortune, but hardly guaranteed his future. Kids can’t bank on what might happen.

He knows, though, that sometimes they need incentive. The NBA has been rewarding students with tickets for perfect attendance. It sponsors stay-in-school “jams” with popular young entertainers such as television actor Will Smith or rapper Heavy D. It puts Michael Jordan, David Robinson and other influential athletes in TV public-service announcements.

Anything to get through.

Occasionally, argumentative types wonder why they should bother with school when Jordan, Magic Johnson, Isiah Thomas and so many others left college prematurely. Lanier has to explain how rare such success stories are, how anybody figuring on doing exactly what those superstars have done might be heading for one of life’s harder lessons.

“Because we live in this glass house, we have to be careful what we do or say,” Lanier says. “We can’t be hypocrites. What we need to do is show young people some of the hurdles they could face, and how an education could help them overcome those hurdles. They can’t slide by on luck and ability. They need to earn through deeds done.

“So, we mingle in a forum. We don’t just talk about school. We talk about the staggering statistics of drug abuse, of teen suicide, of the dropout rate and what they can do to turn those statistics around.

“When they ask me about basketball, I remind them how many jobs there are for those who can’t play. The NBA has doctors working, lawyers working, public-relations people, media people. It needs women. There’s one general manager now who’s female, and someday there will be more. Young women and men can have goals in basketball without being superstar players.

“But if their true life’s ambition is to run a burger franchise, that’s fantastic and they should pursue it. I don’t want to just talk to them. I want to hear from them. I’m a firm believer that you stimulate thought through interaction. So, I’ve been to 21 or 22 NBA cities just since January, talking to kids at middle schools, because I don’t want them to throw away their futures.”

Bob Lanier might have been too good a basketball player not to have a bright future, but had things gone wrong, had he overrated his abilities or been seriously injured, then what? He remembers nearly dropping out of college when the American Basketball Assn. came recruiting players.

He resisted, and considers it one of the great decisions of his life. Not just because he was a first-round draft choice in 1970--perhaps the best NBA draft ever--and eventually an eight-time All-Star, but because his college diploma means so much to him.

Everything has turned out well for Bob Lanier, except for his glaring omission from the basketball Hall of Fame--an oversight that must soon be corrected. But Bob’s not worried abouthimself.

“I’m worried about these kids not reaching their potential” he says. “What they do in school right now could change the rest of their lives.”