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Oliver Miller http://flagrantfowl.ca/raptors-we-have-known-oliver-miller/" class="sharingbuttons-email">EMAIL

The Raptors 20th Anniversary celebration makes me feel old. I am a bit old, but the Raps’ anniversary has highlighted how long it has been since I went to see my very first live NBA game. On March 18, 1996, in a game between the Denver Nuggets and Toronto Raptors, a few remarkable things happened: Damon Stoudamire dished out 16 assists (!), Tracy Murray scored 40 points (!!), and Oliver Miller gave me a solid death stare.

Oliver Miller was a 6’9” center and power forward drafted by the Phoenix Suns, in the 1992 NBA Draft. In a draft year highlighted by big men selections like Shaq, Alonzo Mourning, Christian Laettner and Tom Guigliotta, Miller was selected 22nd overall. He was an adept passing big who, when properly motivated, could board like a beast by effectively utilizing his, ahem, wide body to box out his opponents. To paraphrase Winston Zeddmore from Ghostbusters: Oliver had the tools, he had the talent.

Oliver’s problem, it seemed to me, was always motivation. An original Raptor, Miller arrived by way of the expansion draft, coming to Toronto with the final pick, left unprotected by the Detroit Pistons. Miller was a large dude, even by NBA standards. At the time of his first Raptors stint, he was generously credited at 280 lbs. However, he likely spent a good portion of his playing career comfortably above three bills. Remarkably, Oliver played the second most minutes for the Raptors in their inaugural season, a stat that, perhaps, belies the focus on his maligned physical stature. In many ways, Oliver was a huge part of the identity of the first Raptors team.

Anyway, about that death stare.

I had visited Toronto’s Skydome many times before that night in 1996. I had seen numerous Blue Jays games, an Aussie Rules football match, Wrestlemania VI, I had even been fortunate enough to be present at the opening ceremony of the ‘dome in June 1989, a “gala” event hosted by Canadian icons Alan Thicke and Andrea Martin, during which Glass Tiger rocked the house and the crowd was told that the roof would not be opened because of the torrential downpour taking place outside. Eventually, a decision was made, after much disappointed booing from those in attendance, to open the roof in spite of the weather and everybody got soaked and started booing about it. Classic Toronto.

During the Raptors game, for which we had great seats right on the floor because they were super-cheap, I decided to be supportive of the home team by shouting encouragement to classic expansion Raptors like Zan Tabak, Carlos Rogers, Acie Earl and, of course, Oliver Miller.

“Way to go Big O!”

I shouted this one point after he had collected a defensive rebound several feet in front of me. I swear on my children (should I eventually have any), Miller passed the ball to Stoudamire and as the Raps rushed up the floor, Oliver paused. He peered into the crowd and looked right at me like he either despised receiving encouragement, or the nickname “Big O” sounded about as good to him as getting an enema with a power drill. I was fairly certain that his nickname was “Big O”, but maybe it was like an inside thing, the kind of thing you say but only behind his back. He certainly didn’t seem to appreciate my brand of enthusiasm. After what seemed like a solid 5 seconds, Miller turned, shook his head and lumbered up the court. I decided at that point not to say too much the rest of the evening, lest I encourage an angrier brand of fan interaction. (This is before Ron Artest cold-clocks a fan in Detroit, but part of me did fear him sitting on my head.)

Anyway, the Raptors lost the game, as was the fashion at the time, only possibly due to my lack of boisterous vocal encouragement.

It would be easy to rip on Miller’s low-lights. He had a reputation as a guy with a poor attitude. He once tried to throw a chair at Shawn Kemp after the Rain Man gave him a hard foul. He was kicked off the Harlem Globetrotters for being out of shape, and maybe for eating all of the confetti out of that bucket they throw on the crowd. He was arrested, and served jail-time for pistol-whipping a dude at a barbeque cookout (HEY NO CUTTING IN LINE!). He played for seven different NBA franchises (including the Raptors twice!), as well as 13 other professional organizations both in the U.S. and abroad, in addition to the Globetrotters, over the course of an 18-year career. I come not to bury Oliver, but to thank him for making my very first live NBA experience such a memorable one. I’ll never forget the 40 points from Murray, I’ll never forget the 16 dimes from Damon and I’ll never forget the death stare from the “Big O”.

(Is it okay if I call you that?)

In all seriousness, I don’t want to come off as mean spirited. It’s easy to take cheap shots at people from my couch. As a guy who has struggled to control my own weight over the course of my life, and caught tons of flack for it from many corners, I hope that Oliver has gained balance in his life, and mastery over his health and his anger. Oliver Miller is a guy who was talented enough to have an 18-year pro basketball career in spite of his hindrances — which is something I can obviously only dream of. As an original member of the Raptors, he will always hold a special place in my memories and I sincerely don’t want to cast aspersions or malice.

All the best “Big O”, wherever you may be.