Sights Were Seen, but Not Hearn

I missed Chick.

This is supposed to be a column about Laker opening night, the ring ceremony, the banner raising, and it will be, in a minute, but indulge this old fool for a minute.

I missed Chick.

His widow Marge was at midcourt. His voice was coming out of the scoreboard.

His name is on every championship ring.

But there was no spotlight on his seat, no pre-game introduction, no standing ovation, no him.

On a night of connections between a glorious past and promising future, the most important one was absent, Chick Hearn having died last summer and the pain returning anew.

“I kept looking up there,” said Marge.

“But I know if he was looking back, he just would have been laughing at me.”

Jack was there, Dyan was there, Lawrence Tanter was booming through the public-address system, shoes were squeaking, Kobe was scowling.

But I wondered what Chick would be saying.

I wondered if he would have said something funny when announcing Rick Fox’s name during the ring ceremony, maybe beg him not to belt Doug Christie with it.

I wondered if he would have said something cute about newly shaven Phil Jackson, who showed up looking about 10 years younger, a take-this-Red-Auerbach look.

I wondered if he would have complimented the wardrobe of Shaquille O’Neal, who stunningly showed up wearing a suit that contained not a single green polka dot.

Then the game started, and I wondered what he would say about the Lakers’ misshapen attack. Without O’Neal and Fox, they were overmatched inside against the San Antonio Spurs, and looked like a team that will struggle for the next couple of weeks, and Chick would have had fun with that, no?

Finally, late in the second quarter, when Soumaila Samake replaced Samaki Walker, I wonder if Chick would simply spike his mike.

It was indeed a night of celebration and remembrance.

The pre-game ceremony started with Commissioner David Stern honoring a memory by saying, “Chick, let’s give out the rings.”

It ended with a splendid surprise that may have some people still stunned.

Yes, that was Randy Newman playing the piano at midcourt.

Yes, he was singing that song.

Three times the sellout Staples Center crowd sang, “We love it!” as Newman played the “I Love L.A.” song that has become a center of this town’s championship fabric.

The Lakers play it after wins. The Dodgers play it after wins. The Kings play it after wins.

Yet this was the first time Newman, a longtime L.A. resident, has ever played it live at a sports event.

The Lakers have pursued him before, yet he has always been busy.

“His song is woven into the fabric of every Laker victory, it ties everything together, he is the perfect person for this,” said Tim Harris, Laker vice president.

“We’ve been chasing him for a long time.”

This time, with children Patrick, 10, and Alicea, 9, becoming Laker fans, Newman found the time.

“My kids are old enough now to appreciate it, and I think it would be kind of neat,” he said, sitting appropriately rumpled in a locker room before his performance. “I never had any idea it would get this kind of response when I wrote the song, but it’s really nice.”

Newman acknowledged that the song, released in 1983, pokes fun at parts of L.A.

“It’s not exactly a chamber of commerce song,” he said.

“I mean, there’s a bum in it.”

But he said he’s gratified that the locals not only understand it, but celebrate it.

“The people here get it, and I’m proud of that,” he said. “I think the song sets the place right.”

There’s only one problem with the song, according to Newman.

“I’m really a Clipper fan, but they won’t play it,” he said, laughing.

“I guess because the Lakers got it first.”

The only thing more surprising than the song was the shoes.

Kobe Bryant, currently without a contract, showed up wearing Air Jordans.

Does this mean that Michael Jordan has to play his first game with the Wizards wearing ugly yellow shoes?

Yet the more things change, the more they ... well, you know.

The loudest ovation during the ring ceremony wasn’t for the game’s best coach or best two players, but for Robert Horry.

In case anybody here was wondering why, early in the fourth quarter of their eventual 87-82 loss to the Spurs, Horry made that same weird, wonderful, top-of-the-key-and-to-the-moon three-pointer again.

Earning the evening’s second loudest ovation.

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