Bowie: No regrets about claim to fame
T he final buzzer sounded, and Anthony Bowie rushed to the other end of the court, to explain things to Doug Collins, the irate opposing coach. But not really to apologize.
Twenty-one years later, Bowie’s still not sorry.
In this year of the triple double, the season when Russell Westbrook is going to match Oscar Robertson’s 55-yearold feat of averaging double digits in points, rebounds and assists and is going to break Oscar’s NBA record of 41 triple doubles in a season, there has been much focus on basketball’s holy grail of statistical achievement.
Oscar’s mythical numbers of 1961-62. Westbrook’s quest. The proliferation of triple doubles in general, from 34 leaguewide six years ago to 110 so far this season.
But in the pantheon of triple doubles lies a wing for those who didn’t treat the exploit so sacred. A few players have chased a triple double to absurd measures. And an Oklahoman leads the group.
Anthony Bowie was a star at Tulsa East Central and Seminole State Junior College before becoming a Billy Tubbs staple at OU in 1984-85 and 1985-86. He was a 6-foot-6 swingman who averaged 13.4 and 13.3 points his two Sooner seasons.
Then Bowie became a feel-good NBA story, making the league after stints in the minors and overseas. Bowie played eight NBA seasons, including 16.4 minutes per game with the 199495 Orlando Magic, who made the NBA Finals.
But Bowie is best remembered for his triple double on March 19, 1996, which most players, coaches, media and fans consider ill-gotten gains.
With 2.7 seconds left in a game the Magic would win 113-91 over Detroit, Bowie corralled his 10th rebound. And immediately called timeout.
Bowie knew the math. He had 20 points, 10 rebounds and nine assists. This was his 82nd career start. He would make just five more. Bowie was 32 years old. The opportunity for future triple doubles were scant. This was his
chance.
But Bowie had angered the masses. On the Orlando bench, coach Brian Hill was disgusted. Hill handed his clipboard to Bowie and walked away from the huddle. On the Detroit bench, Collins was so angry, he instructed his Pistons to stand courtside while the Magic did whatever they would do.
What Orlando did was draw up a play designed by Bowie. Joe Wolf tossed a length-of-thecourt pass to Bowie, who tossed to David Vaughn for a dunk. Bowie’s 10th assist.
Collins stormed off the court and would draw a $5,000 fine from the NBA for not defending the play. Bowie went chasing him to explain.
They knew each other. Collins had recruited Bowie for Arizona State when he came out of Seminole.
“I like Anthony; he was a great young guy,” said Collins, who was in town this week calling a Thunder game for ESPN and who has gone to have quite the basketball life. “I get his exuberance. Might be the only chance he ever had to do something like that. But when you’re losing a game like that, it just doesn’t set well with you.”
Bowie, now an elementary school P.E. teacher in Orlando, doesn’t much care what anyone thinks. Collins, Hill, critics.
“Regret? I don’t understand why people say I should regret having a triple double, regardless of how it came,” Bowie said. “The triple double is in the books, no matter how it happened. If those guys wanted to stop me, they could have stopped me.”
The former is twisted logic. But the latter is bedrock truth. Hill could have stopped Bowie, simply by taking him out of the game or instructing his players to not participate in such shenanigans. Collins could have stopped Bowie, by fouling on the inbounds play.
“I remember going to the timeout after it happened,” Collins said. “I looked down at Brian Hill. I was (wondering), ‘What was he going to do in that situation?’ From my standpoint, I would have said, ‘Listen, throw the ball in and hold it, that‘s it.’ If we’re going to get a triple double, it’s going to matter.
“I just took it out of their hands. I said, ‘Guys, we’ve got one of two things we can do. We can tackle him and make this real ugly. Or not defend it and let him get it.’ We chose not to defend it.”
That was fine with Bowie.
“I don’t regret a thing,” Bowie said. “I don’t hold any grudges or any bad thoughts toward anybody that I played with or felt it was wrong for me to do that. It wasn’t to embarrass anybody or harm anybody. It’s a game.”
That was quite an Orlando team. Not unlike the Thunder of recent years. Loaded with young talent. Shaq. Penny Hardaway. Dennis Scott. Nick Anderson.
The Magic players generally supported Bowie’s method to a triple double. And Bowie said that if Hill “was upset, that was his problem. If you’re going to support your players, support your players.”
And all these years later, Collins’ anger is gone. He’s standing on the court of the Triple Double King, recalling Bowie’s personality and junior college coach (Jim Kerwin) and a memorable night in Orlando that put Bowie in the Triple Double Club, even if there’s an asterisk.
“Ten years down the road, nobody’s going to know the circumstance, unless you’re going to start writing about it,” Collins said. “He can say, ‘I had a triple double.’”
Berry Tramel: Berry can be reached at (405) 760-8080 or at btramel@oklahoman.com. He can be heard Monday through Friday from 4:40-5:20 p.m. on The Sports Animal radio network, including FM-98.1. You can also view his personality page at newsok.com/berrytramel.