Scully and Wooden, together on one stage

It was just an idea, “Scully & Wooden for the kids.”

Just imagine how much money the two legends, sitting side-by-side on stage, might raise for kids in the Los Angeles area contending with cancer.

But then how many ideas do you get in a lifetime, never doing anything about it, later kicking yourself because you didn’t follow through?

Make it a really far-fetched idea, and well, forget it.

A baseball-busy Vin Scully isn’t much for taking a bow in public, and for all I know John Wooden is lying on the floor somewhere not wanting to bother anyone.

But one day I’m talking to Michael Roth, the P.R. guy for the Anschutz Empire in town, and anything to avoid chatting with him about soccer, I mention the really far-fetched idea.

“Let’s do it,” he says, confirming my hunch and what he’s been telling me for some time now -- Tim Leiweke and Philip Anschutz aren’t anywhere nearly as powerful as he is.

And so just like that, the Anschutz Empire makes available the 7,000-seat Nokia Theater L.A. Live at no charge -- just so more money might go to the kids.

The firm of Roth, Leiweke & Anschutz also volunteers to pick up all expenses for the event, the cherry on top -- throwing a fancy-schmancy dinner to thank sponsors who also might volunteer to help financially on such a memorable night.

So I call Wooden, who screens his calls, and that could very well have been that.

But he picks up, which really makes you wonder whether he’s feeling all right these days. I mention the really far-fetched idea, the kids at Mattel Children’s Hospital at UCLA, and he says, “Let’s do it.”

I call Scully, which is a departure from my usual way of communicating with him. I like to wait until he enters the bathroom in the press box, knowing how difficult it is to ever get a private moment with someone so popular, and funny, but he’s never let on that it might be a little weird where I seem to hang out.

I tell Scully I would like to have him sit with Wooden on the Nokia stage -- with the other half of the proceeds benefiting Childrens Hospital Los Angeles, which falls under the Dodgers’ Think Cure campaign, and I don’t even finish the sentence and he’s telling me, “Let’s do it.”

Right now, I believe, this is what they mean about a dream come true: Scully & Wooden for the kids, June 13, Father’s Day weekend, and how many fathers over the years have regaled their youngsters with stories about these two extraordinary men?

UCLA Athletic Director Dan Guerrero and the McCourts also pledge big-time help, Roth, I presume keeping the identity of his partner in this dream come true a secret.

Tickets range from $25 to $200, on sale May 7 at Ticketmaster, finally some good news for kids and parents who can use it, all the proceeds going to those in town working to find a cure.

Now as for the emcee of the event, it comes down to Tom Hanks and Page 2, the choice an obvious one, as you might imagine -- after it becomes clear Hanks is not available.

Scully & Wooden, of course, are thrilled with the selection of the irreverent emcee, Scully saying, “I’ll have a signal with John and at one point we’re just going to get up and walk off stage.”

So much for Page 2’s career.

IT WILL be an Actors Studio setting, Scully & Wooden sitting together, the emcee off to the side, and when Wooden hears this, he objects.

“I want you between us so I can keep an eye on you,” he teases -- his daughter, Nan, more direct.

“Gosh, I was really excited about meeting Hanks,” she says, before letting on that she’s teasing too. Oh, these Woodens.

Wooden is 97, one more wisecrack and I’ll tell you how old Nan is, and Scully 80.

“You would never know it,” Wooden says of Scully. “That voice is just as remarkable as it always has been.”

Wooden is still recovering from a fall, a broken wrist not quite mending as he’d like. A pair of sore knees might also keep him from entering a marathon anytime soon, but no excuses, he says, “I’ll be there.”

“I don’t do many of these, but for kids anything,” he says, wrestling like anyone else with the question why some youngsters must be sick. “I don’t know why it happens to kids, but somebody up in heaven knows why.”

ODD, BUT true. Scully & Wooden met 50 years ago by chance, Scully telling the story.

“I was living in a small apartment house in Brentwood and I had gone to the grocery store. I come back with my arms full, obviously a distressed husband, and there’s this little wooden fence. I get to it and this man steps out of nowhere to open the gate and save me.

“I say, ‘Thank you very much,’ and he says, ‘I’m John Wooden, UCLA basketball coach, and I say, ‘Oh, I’m so-and-so.’

“Now wouldn’t you know it,” Scully adds with a grin, “the first time I meet John and he’s helping someone -- which really sums up his life.”

They have met in passing over the last five decades, but never for any great length of time, so they will have some catching up to do when they meet on stage June 13.

But where do you start? You have one question to ask Scully or Wooden, and what would you want to know? Make it something good in an e-mail, designed to make the emcee appear thoughtful, and how about two tickets to join everyone that night?

Make it a question that gets everyone in the audience buzzing, and how about a baseball or basketball autographed by Scully & Wooden?

So many people have their memories of the great basketball wins, the great teacher, motivator and author later in life, but as for the answer to the obvious question, Wooden says, “I want to be remembered for being considerate of other people.

“I don’t want to be remembered as a basketball coach who won a lot of games. The players did that.”

I mention that to Scully, and he says, “I’d like to be remembered as a good father, a good husband and a good man.

“I never think of broadcasting. People are so funny. My first son, God rest his soul, I named him Michael, Mike, and people would say to me in all honesty is that for ‘microphone?’ What? How in the world could anyone think that?”

A friend of Michael’s, by the way, dropped off a gift at the Scully home a few years back -- a basketball autographed by Wooden.

“A treasure,” Scully calls it -- just what others might call the chance to spend a little time with both of them.

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T.J. Simers can be reached at t.j.simers@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Simers, go to latimes.com/simers.