Bill Walton would like to remind you that May is the best month of the year!

A special to TGOWF - Bill Walton, himself in his own words. (Well, maybe how we would interpret his words?)

It’s the longest and strangest of trips, as well as the most joyous of time to be a fan of the NBA. And for those of you who can’t get excited for NBA Playoff basketball, my sympathy goes out to you. For me, the month of May is synonymous with my own memories of a magical May from yesteryear – 1977 to be exact.

I would reach the pinnacle of my professional career that year with my fellow Portland teammates, as we were crowned NBA Champions. This was all taking place, while the Grateful Dead were reaching an apex, a pinnacle if you will in their musical careers. The Dead would carry out some of the most magical concerts ever recorded in May of ’77. Those old tapes, helped to serve as inspiration in my own spiritual and professional quest.

I recently happened upon one of my all time favorites from that era. Ah yes, the gem of which I speak is the ever-so coveted and endeared by many a Dead fan – The Grateful Dead live at Cornell University in Ithaca, NY.

The date was May 8, 1977. Easily my most cherished possession and it remained a staple in my vault at the San Diego house, until my son's became Teenagers and taped over the show with "rap" music. Ah, a Betty Board tape like so many of that era…refined, yet innocent like my good friend Larry Bird's hometown of French Lick, IN.

An opening “Minglewood Blues” sets the tone for what lay in store. A “Loser” and an “El Paso”…oh, the treats Garcia, Lesh and company had up their sleeves. As if saving for their best on this night, like Game 7 of an NBA Playoff series. “They Love Each Other” reminds me so much of the modern day Phoenix Suns.

Steve Nash symbolizes the Grateful Dead, unselfish almost to a fault with a unique ability to transcend time. Comparing anyone to the likes of the Grateful Dead is a compliment in the utmost of respect, I can give. With Nash, statistics mean absolutely nothing. It's all about his style, his flare, his competitive spirit, and making all of his teammates stars.

They win and are so much fun to watch with the toughness of Raja Bell, the brilliance of Shawn Marion, the ever improving Barbosa and Diaw, and let’s not forget the dominance of Amare Stoudemire. Yet, the conductor of this orchestra is none other than Steve Nash — a great, great champion. Lord, you can see that it’s true…these guys “love” each other.

A soft and delicate Jack Straw is carried so brilliantly by the soothing chorus of Bobby Weir and Donna Jean. Like the Utah Jazz, an often overlooked, yet brilliant component of a traditional Dead set. Nothing short of mastery, like their ancestors Malone and Stockton, so to are the heirs Boozer and Deron Williams. "We can share the women, we can share the wine." And do they ever share in Utah. Sharing the ball and playing the right way...as imposed by the brilliance of Jerry Sloan.

I'm pleading with Joe Dumars and the Detroit Pistons in the immortal words of Jerry Garcia..."don't you let that deal go down." And that deal would be Chauncey Billups. It's imperative the Pistons retain their navigator. Much like this epic "Deal", the Pistons are a slow building energy pacted group that functions as whole, due to the sum of it's many parts.

Like Garcia charting this encapsulating piece with his lead guitar, so too does Chauncey chart the waters for this perennial contender. A proud bunch that only get better with time, much like any version of "Deal" that saw it's impact stand until the Dead's very last show. Truly a mark of a powerful show...and aren't the Pistons the mark/bar in the Eastern Conference?

An engulfing "Lazy Lightning>Supplication" leads me into the enchanting "Brown Eyed Women", which can only help to symbolize Larry Bird. "The bottle was dusty, but the liquir was clean." And the "Mama Tried"...yes, the Chicago Bulls...they tried, but they shouldn't worry, they did NOT let anyone down.

Get down and row. Row, row LeBron row. You’re gonna get there sooner than later. And that I do know. The Cavs time may not be now, but it will come. And how's for this "Row Jimmy" that clocks in at just over the length of an NBA quarter? Ah, the intricate ways Garcia could fascinate with his improvesation. Sound like young LeBron James to you. Patience, young LeBron...you're going to get there.

Where was I? Oh yes, talking about the conclusion to Set I...right? Dancin' in the Streets, a version unlike any other, where you can feel the passion and perseverance shine through. This is the frantic epicenter of this majestic night. Garcia isn’t afraid to take chances. Or to be bold. It’s a music traditionalists nightmare, but none-so for the Grateful Dead. Much to the delight of the many a spring night, the Dead elevate Dancin’ to a much greater height.

Like the Golden State Warriors and their fear nothing and frenzied style of play. This Dancin’ sets the tone and leaves nothing else to say. Garcia is the Baron Davis of this sacred gem, a reckless abandonment to the boundaries we’ve known. Like the Warriors in Oakland, listening to the Dead here, you can feel just how much they’ve grown.

Oh so many treats...and I've only made it half way. This "Scarlet Begonias> Fire on The Mountain" is as in unision as we'd ever hear from the Dead. They were zoned into perfectionism at this very moment, something we all strive for. Much like the '86 Celtics, this backbone represents just how "perfect" something can be when it all comes together at the right time.

That was the '86 Celtics...everything morphed into the perfect unit at the ideal time. The seamless transition from Scarlet into Fire...represents the transition we took from the regular season into the Playoffs. And you can probably guess, the maestro behind it all for us was Larry Bird. I can't praise or mention Larry Bird enough...especially when talking about the Grateful Dead.

“Once in a while you can get shown the light, in the strangest of places if you look at just right.”

Larry was unquestionably the greatest leader that I ever played with. He was so good that he would tell the other team what he was going to do just before he went out, and then put it in their face. Now that's a champion.

Am I done yet...of course not. The pace and energy following this eruption into the second set can only be cultivated by an ever-easy "Estimated Prophet." It's needed to calm the crowd and the listener from an energy overdose. The Dead were always good at pulling back just a little. And who better to think of as an "Estimated Prophet" other than Tim Duncan?

For those who refuse to recognize and appreciate Timmy Duncan as the greatest power forward of this or any generation, I say puh-lease. Duncan is the quintessential perfectionist, fine-toned, mild mannered with an acute attention to execution. What else can be said about the Big Fundamental? Throw it down...Big Man!!!

The set closes with a flury, a patient and poised "Saint Stephen> Not Fade Away> Saint Stephen" carries us home like the San Antonio Spurs closing out a Championship. Thorough and to the point and a delight to all. "You know our love will not fade away!"

Oh, and who could forget the "Morning Dew" closer that serves as an inspirational and uplifting moment of clarity for anyone willing to let Garcia take them along a spiritual journey. And things just wouldn't be right if we didn't get that "One more Saturday Night" encore...now would it?

I'm giddy just talking about my two favorite subjects, the Grateful Dead and the NBA. And I can't wait to get high with my good friend the ever enlightening Jon Barry next week and listen to this show over and over. I bid a goodnight to you all.