Roth: Bobby Wanzer a champion at life as well as NBA

Basketball legend Bobby Wanzer had a “love-hate’’ relationship with sports reporters.

According to his son, Bob, the accuracy of some missives could be as off as an air ball. Of course, Bobby was too kind to ever say anything.

“For the record, Bobby Wanzer never lived in Brooklyn, ever," his son said while eulogizing his father with words so warm and meaningful they hit nothing but net, telling me later that his father actually grew up on New York’s Upper East Side “when it was poor.’’

“Dad was honest about how he felt and would say, ‘This player is listed as 6-7 but he’s really around 6-5.’ So, for the record, Bob Wanzer was never 5-10. Now that we got that out of the way, Dad is now happy. ’’

Speaking on behalf of my colleagues going back to 1948 when Bobby Wanzer took the court for the Rochester Royals of the Basketball Association of America, which became the National Basketball Association, we may have gotten a few facts wrong.

But we got this fact right: He was one terrific human being.

Bobby Wanzer, who was 94, was laid to rest Wednesday with friends and family gathering for his Mass of Christian Burial at the Church of the Transfiguration in Pittsford.

As a light snow fell outside, music and messages — some spoken, some symbolic — fell on the congregation inside.

Taps were played. A Marine Honor Guard presented a folded American flag to the World War II veteran's children, Mary, Beth and Bob. Eyes were patted dry when Madison Wanzer spoke of her grandfather as “ever reaching, ever growing until the end.’’

And then laughter could be heard. Joy could be felt.

Because everyone remembered that Bobby Wanzer — player, coach, teacher, husband, father, grandfather, friend — had just given us a 94-year clinic on how to live.

“My dad had two wishes," Mary Wanzer said. “ ‘I want a Mass and I want a party at Oak Hill.’ "

His wishes were granted.

In referencing heaven, the Rev. Rob Bourcy said Bobby Wanzer “probably has a special court up there.’’

Where no doubt he’s passing, shooting, dribbling and defending in that nonstop hustling way that sparked the 1950-51 Royals to the NBA championship, capped by an epic seven-game series win over the favored New York Knicks.

He was a complete player, and when NBA historians gather over a beer, they speak of Rochester’s guard tandem of Bobby Wanzer and Bob Davies in the same breath as Bob Cousy and Bill Sharman.

Bobby Wanzer was the first to shoot better than 90 percent from the free-throw line, relished team basketball, polished his fundamentals until they shined as bright as his smile and he was modest to a fault. In other words, he was everything many of today’s NBA players are not.

He was our local connection to a cherished bygone era. And now there are just two champion Royals alive, Pep Saul (91) and Bill Calhoun (88). Wasn't it just last month that Wanzer's friend and NBA contemporary Dolph Schayes passed away at 87 in Syracuse?

In the wake of Bobby Wanzer's passing, it was only natural to recount his sensational nine-year NBA career that included five All-Star game appearances. But it is what he did as a basketball and golf coach and athletic director at St. John Fisher College and what he did raising a family with Nina, his late wife, over the course of the next 60 years, that makes his legacy truly special.

Reading entries from former players in a memory book has driven home the positive impact their dad had on young people, Bob Wanzer said.

There are lessons to be learned when a coach is caring and not a bully. Who is humble in victory, dignified in defeat.

And yes, there are lessons to be learned when someone in their 50s and 60s can play full-court hoops with you at lunchtime. Or can beat you in H-O-R-S-E making 17-foot hook shots and in free throw contests shooting left-handed. When someone embraces his inner child.

“We read over notes people left and you’re so close to him and you know how wonderful he is, but you never understand the impact on the lives he’s had," Bob Wanzer said.

There are stories of Wanzer taking recruits and their parents on walks around campus and never mentioning his NBA career, a career that would later land him in the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame as well as the Seton Hall and Marine Corps Sports halls of fame.

He only talked about himself if someone asked.

“Dad was such an unassuming humble man, I don’t think I ever heard him say, ‘Oh yeah, I was in the NBA. I was in the Hall of Fame.’ He thought that was just OK," his son said. “The things that were important to him were family … and how such a support system it is."

He was so blessed with goodness that more than one husband in the Wanzer circle of family and friends heard their wives ask, “Why can’t you be more like Bobby?"

At the basketball hall of fame induction in 1987, Bob Wanzer recalled how Rick Barry’s and Pete Maravich’s speeches lasted a good 40 to 45 minutes.

“My dad was done in 10," he said. “His biggest quote I’ll never forget is ‘I owe basketball a lot because I never had to get a real job.’ "

By teaching generations to play the game the right way and to truly love it, Bobby Wanzer paid that debt a hundredfold.

Later in life, splitting time between Florida and Rochester and still swinging a golf club, Bobby was described by granddaughter Madison “as a young spirit trapped in an old man’s body."

“That was the truth," Bob Wanzer said.

Then he paused for an emotional five seconds that seemed like five minutes.

“Honestly, he was a great dad," he said. “He wasn’t anywhere near the ballplayer as he was a great father. Dad, we love you.’’

Like his father's free throws, the son's words hit nothing but net.