Is there a basketball court in heaven?

Randy was one of the smartest kids I ever knew. Classmates since grade school, his intelligence and wit were off the chart. Intimidating almost. Always wanted to be his friend but kind of felt he was on a higher brain level.

We rode the bus together and I would try to carry on a conversation with him on the way home. You know, asking those type questions which led to an eyebrow raise or his patented, “What’s wrong with you?”

One day after school ended and before the bus left, I rushed to the music / record store down the main street. Believe it or not, I still remember opening the door and seeing the albums and records on display along with the musical instruments. Eyed the drum set but Dad never let me pursue that path. Handed the owner the cash and he put the album in a brown thin paper bag. Boy was I happy. There I sat on the bus, my hands in protective mode over the flat bag, Randy sitting next to me.

“What’s that?” Randy asked.

“What’s what?” I deflected.

“That,” as he nodded toward the bag I was protecting.

There was no avoiding the question. Besides, Randy was bigger than me. Not a hard thing to be since I was the smallest kid in the class from the first grade on. I unfold the top portion of the bag and slip out the new album I had just bought. You should have seen his eyes when he looked down at the Jackson 5 Third Album.

“You like the Jackson 5?”

“Yea,” I slip the album back inside.

“Let me see it.”

Funny, I can’t remember what happened next. But as I tell this story all these years later, somehow, I think it brought a smirk to Randy’s expression and maybe, just maybe, he let me in a little closer to his inner circle of trust. Of course, no telling what Randy would think today about the rumors of the King of Pop faking his own death.

Randy and his best friend Pat did a skit in front of the class on what was then known as The Johnny Carson Show starring Johnny Carson and Ed McMahon or on this particular day, Randy and Pat. Thirty of us or so watched in awe; the two carried it off magnificently. I’m thinking, “Gee, I could never do that.” Little did I know that I would become a professional magician and have to do the same in front of a live audience too. Go figure.

We were on the basketball team together and that’s probably where the field was leveled. We were teammates from our sophomore year on. Pat was on the wrestling team and I still remember him running laps with those sweat suits to make weight. Determination was all over his face as it was Randy’s when it came to doing our fair share of laps too and playing the game of basketball. They called it basketball back then.

The summer going into our senior year we played in the YMCA summer league. My brother was our Coach. After each game, Randy would come up to me and ask a familiar question.

“Hey Joe. How you getting home?”

Of course, he knew how I was getting home. My brother.

“Randy, do you need a ride?” a smile appearing on my face, a glint in my eye.

“Yea,” he would simply say.

I knew I would never be his best friend but it sure felt good to be able to give him that ride. One night, his dog came outside to greet him. I did a double take at the dog’s expression.

“Hey Randy, your dog looks just like you!”

Good thing for all those prior rides. But truthfully, his dog really did have his same look.

Then one fateful day, it was game time and Randy hadn’t showed up.

“Joe. Go call Randy and see if he’s coming,” my brother commanded.

I left courtside and ran into the lobby to make the call. This was before cell phones.?

Randy's brother answered.

“Hey, this is Joe at the Y. The game is about to start. Is Randy coming tonight?”

“No, I don’t think so,” is all his brother said.

Later, after the game we were all hanging out in the lobby like we normally would do. One of the members walks by and says, “Hey, have you all heard? Some kid by the name of Randy Cook drowned today.”?

Never again would we play on the court together or be blessed to give him that ride home. The sting of those words resonate still. His friend Pat took it hard. We all did.

Many years have since past and I often wonder what Randy would say about the present state of things in our world. He was truthful. He was smart. He was witty.

A few weeks ago, my wife Helen and I attended church. The Deacon who gave the sermon asked us afterwards, “Did you pay attention?” To which I somewhat kiddingly responded, “Of course not.” If Randy were there, he would have seen through my deflection.

I did listen but truthfully, I was a bit distracted. Everyone still wearing masks. Disturbing. Difficult to witness what’s been going on in our world, home in the USA and abroad. Who do you trust?

I trust what I learned from my classmate, Randy. And I miss him still as no doubt all of his surviving family, friends and classmates do. But I thank God for the time and moments shared with this incredible person.

Our world needs the likes of him now more than ever. A purity of heart, to will one thing. Maybe that’s an important truth about faith and perseverance in good times and bad. Though we were different in many ways, we connected in ways that will never be forgotten.