It Won’t Be the Same Until Jello Jiggles and Eggs Get Cool Again

My most memorable Laker game of last season was not the championship victory at Philadelphia, or Shaquille O’Neal’s perfect foul shooting against Denver, or Kobe Bryant’s clincher against Sacramento, or Derek Fisher’s return against Boston.

My most memorable game wasn’t even a full game, but a second half.

The second half of the Feb. 21 game against the San Antonio Spurs.

The night Chick disappeared.

Driving near my home, I flicked on the radio and heard Stu Lantz doing play-by-play.

It was like hearing punk from a polka band.

It was like hearing slang from the pulpit.

I wasn’t listening only to a different announcer. I was listening to a different team.

I drove off the road. I phoned the office.

“Where’s Chick!” I shouted.

“Laryngitis at halftime,” came the weary reply. “He’ll be back next game.”

I was obviously not the first one to ask.

Today, I am obviously not the only one to worry.

Nerves everywhere are bouncing, from skyscrapers to playgrounds, from beaches to barbershops, anywhere this frail, giant man has touched someone during the last 42 years.

Chick Hearn’s heart is messing with our minds.

He’s 85. He’s the Laker who occasionally stumbles over words. He’s the Laker who is sometimes confused by situations.

And he’s the only Laker who is absolutely irreplaceable.

Don’t think so?

Try it.

The Lakers without Jerry Buss? They won an NBA title here before Buss.

The Lakers without Shaquille O’Neal? Just plug in Wilt and Kareem.

One could even imagine the Lakers without Jerry West because, um, they are existing at this moment without the retired West.

But the Lakers without Chick?

Go on. Try it.

It was difficult to endure for even one half last February.

Now, in the wake of Chick’s surprise heart surgery Wednesday, try it for at least six weeks.

And he’s the one who needs a new heart valve?

Again, no offense to those with the difficult task of keeping the microphone warm.

But without Chick, how will we know when the game is clinched? Not over, but clinched?

Who’s going to jiggle our jello?

Beyond his trademark, there will also be a missing tension.

How will we know when the Lakers are dogging it? Chick was never afraid to tell us.

How will we know when Kobe Bryant is being selfish or Phil Jackson is being foolish? Chick would question them, because he is bigger than them.

How will we know that the team is still ours?

Chick did that better than anything, including us in the magic with the homey chatter of an eccentric uncle.

Only when that uncle is sitting in the corner chair telling stories would we truly know that it was Thanksgiving.

Only when we see Chick at his midcourt seat halfway up the arena do we know that we are really at a Laker game.

Ever watch the people who congregate around his table before games?

Most of them are silent. Most of them are just staring.

He is more than a broadcaster, he is a center-court decal that lets everyone know they are home.

Not that he won’t socialize. He loves to socialize. He is the one Laker you could call during the off-season and he would always come to the phone.

Bryant routinely blows off the media and, by extension, the fans.

Chick has never snubbed either.

O’Neal sometimes gets angry and stomps around.

Chick has never stomped anywhere.

Phil Jackson talks above us.

Chick talks to us.

And how we have listened.

He’s the one person who has consistently kept the other-worldly Lakers human.

As the franchise has soared to the heights of movie stardom, he’s the one person who has kept it within our reach.

The half-million people who have lined Figueroa Street each of the last two springs for the championship parade?

Many of them never saw a game in person.

But they didn’t have to see a game in person.

They had Chick.

For 3,338 consecutive games over 36 consecutive years, children becoming parents, strangers becoming family, they had Chick.

Still do.

Always will.

*

Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com.

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In Good Company

Chick Hearn is a member of the American Sportscasters Assn. Hall of Fame. Other members include:

Mel Allen

Red Barber

Jack Brickhouse

Jack Buck

Harry Caray

Howard Cosell

Don Dunphy

Marty Glickman

Curt Gowdy

Ernie Harwell

Ted Husing

Keith Jackson

Clem McCarthy

Jim McKay

Graham McNamee

Lindsey Nelson

Chris Schenkel

Ray Scott

Vin Scully

Bill Stern

Pat Summerall

Jack Whitaker