The Atlanta Hawks ended Miami’s season a few days ago, as well as ending the must-see theater that has been the Dwyane Wade Show of 2008-2009. But it also marked the end of an era for the Miami Heat, the final chapter in the story of Alonzo Mourning’s career. His number was retired by Miami earlier this season, and having recently read his new book titled ‘Resilience’, I felt it only fitting to write this tribute to Zo.

Alonzo Mourning never got to play this season thanks to a knee injury he sustained the season before, an injury most thought would end his career. But that wasn’t the way Zo planned on going out, and just months prior to the start of the season he was still very much set on a return. In an interview with Matt Moore of NBA FanHouse in July 2008 Mourning spoke of his desire to get back for 2008-2009: “I’m still probably about 6 to 7 months away from where I want to be… I want to come back and play, but I want to come back at 100%. I have to be patient, number one. And this is just me overcoming another physical obstacle.” Another physical obstacle. Not one anywhere near as debilitating or life-threatening as the kidney disease which lead to his retirement in 2000, but this obstacle would force him to give up the game for good. And giving up isn’t exactly a familiar concept to Alonzo Mourning.

A month ago I picked up Alonzo’s new book ‘Resilience’. Despite the subtitle “Faith, Focus, Triumph” sounding  more like a self-help book, I was hopeful it would recount just as much of Zo’s basketball career and his days back in Georgetown and Charlotte – the days that were slipping from my memory – as it would his off-court battles. Sure, I was aware of Zo’s kidney problems and his courageous return to the league, but I was more interested in reading about the basketball stuff. By the time I got to the end of the book I realised I had completely misunderstood the gravity of Alonzo Mourning’s situation, completely underestimated the superhuman effort it took for Zo to get back in that Heat uniform. All of a sudden, the “basketball stuff” seemed very unimportant.

I was never a big Alonzo Mourning fan early in his career. His game was too much about defense and brute force, and as a young kid I preferred the flash and flair of tiny point guards like Isiah Thomas, Tim Hardaway and Kenny Anderson. There was just something a little easier to relate to about those guys. While the Pistons Bad Boys were sliding off the map, Tim Hardaway became my favorite player in the league and I practiced the killer cross-over approximately two hundred times per day. When Hardaway eventually moved to Miami I was forced to say goodbye to C-Webb and Spree and Mullin, and I started to take notice of Alonzo Mourning for the first time.

Thanks to the Pistons mediocrity in the late nineties the Miami Heat eventually became my surrogate team. I followed them through year after year of epic playoff battles with the Knicks, cheering on T-Bug as he hit big shot after big shot, and quietly building a deep appreciation for Alonzo’s game. During his peak, Zo was simply one of the best centers to ever play in the NBA. He will be remembered for his intensity and his defensive prowess, but he was also a dynamic 20ppg scorer who got his points from more than just dunks, put-backs and baby-hooks. He was KG’s passion with Ben Wallace’s hustle in Dwight Howard’s body. He averaged 20-10 over the first eight years of his career, won two defensive Player of the Year Awards, was a seven-time all star, and he did all this during the Golden Era of centers featuring Ewing, Robinson, Olajuwon, Mutumbo and Shaq (who were all bigger than Zo).

But damn, those Knicks kept getting in the way.

The 1999 playoffs ended with heartbreak for the Heat when Allen Houston did this. I couldn’t believe the result when I heard it. Here they were, probably the league’s best team and now without Michael Jordan to contend with (he’d retired the season before), and they blew it in the first round, against the eighth-seeded Knicks of all teams. The following season it happened again, losing to the Knicks by one point in Game 7 of the Semi-Conference Finals. Zo had just been awarded his second straight DPOY Award, and he would go on to win gold with the men’s USA Basketball team in the 2000 Olympics. Physically and mentally he was at the peak of his game, and he was ready to come back the next season to finally get past Ewing and the Knicks and make an assault at that elusive title.

And then he got the phone call that changed everything. Suddenly, beating the Knicks was the least of his problems.

I’m not going to recount the entire story of Alonzo’s kidney disease and his road to recovery, you should read the book for that. But there are a few tales that deserve mention, if not for the fact they’re amazing then for the sheer chance you’ve probably forgotten them.

• When first diagnosed with his kidney disease (focal segmental glomerular sclerosis) in 2000, Zo’s doctors believed he could make a full recovery by taking medication alone, and within a few months Zo was back on the floor. He played the final thirteen games of the 2000-2001 season, and then started all but one of the seventy-five games he played in 2001-2002. Alonzo had beaten the disease, or so he thought.
• In the summer of 2002 Zo’s kidney had a relapse, and he was forced to sit out the 2002-03 season. His contract with the Heat was also up, and as a free agent he signed a four-year deal with the Nets. This seemed to satisfy Zo’s quest for a championship – the one thing that made him determined to play on – as Kidd and the Nets were still amongst the league’s elite. He played 12 games in New Jersey (doesn’t it seem weird seeing Zo in a Nets uniform?) before his doctors stopped him from continuing after his body chemistries were reaching alarming levels. “I cannot let you go on this road trip” his doctor told him. “If you run up and down the court, you could risk a cardiac arrest right out there on the court. You could die on the court”. Reggie Lewis had suffered sudden cardiac death on the basketball court at an off-season practice in 1993. Zo’s doctors were scared the exact same thing could happen to him.
• It was clear that Zo would have to find a kidney donor – this wasn’t about playing basketball again, this was about survival. “At six ten and 260 pounds, I needed a big kidney… but how many 6-10, 260 pound people are walking down the street?” Fortunately, Alonzo’s cousin Jason Cooper was a match, and on December 19th 2003 the transplant took place. Not without some complications however. Zo’s abdomen and back were so muscular from his years as an NBA player that the surgeon couldn’t fit the extra kidney in (in a kidney transplant they leave the old one in there).
• Zo started working out again six weeks after his surgery, but it wasn’t easy going. In the gym he could barely bench press 45 pounds – he used to bench 300 easily. “It was depressing. I was lifting weights like an eight-year old. And struggling with it. And it hurt”. It took Zo eight months to get back into NBA shape, after which he was traded from the Nets to the Raptors (didn’t play a game), and after a buy-out ended up back with the Miami Heat late in the 2004-2005 season.
• The 2005-2006 season was Alonzo’s first full NBA season since 2001-2002. In 20 minutes per game for the Heat he averaged 7.8 points, 5.5 rebounds and 2.7 blocks (good for third in the league and 6.5 blocks per 48 minutes) while backing up Shaquille O’Neal at the center position. And we all know how that season ended for Miami, defeating the Dallas Mavericks in the finals and winning the franchise’s first ever championship.

The basketball stories are really just complimentary to the key themes in this book, that being Alonzo’s incredible strength of character, faith and determination to return to the NBA court, as well as his generosity in helping others with similar afflictions. There are two things in particular that struck me when reading this book. The first is Zo’s humility. He is such a grounded person, and reading about his upbringing gives you clues as to why. He is all too aware of his position as a wealthy and famous individual and the benefits and attention that come with that when trying to recover from a serious illness. But he is still able to impart the lessons he learned in a way that anyone can find common ground with.

The other thing that comes across so powerfully that quite frankly, it bothers me, is the sacrifices Zo made. He took incredible risks in trying to keep playing in the NBA. The life he was forced to live, the constant medical attention, the mental and physical toll on his body, all just because he wanted to keep playing basketball when his body stubbornly wouldn’t let him. He could have died on the court. Is coming back to win an NBA championship really worth that much? Is not recovering from a kidney transplant enough in itself (30% of kidney transplants fail after the operation) without also pushing your body to get back into the muscle-ripped athletic shape needed for the rigors of NBA basketball? How many other NBA players would have gone through that?

But it wasn’t all about chasing glory for Zo. In his book, he admits that “stepping back onto an NBA court became an obsession for me”, but there was a greater mission at stake, one demonstrative of Alonzo’s typical selflessness. “I looked upon myself as a role model for people with kidney disease. I wanted people who might doubt they could get back on their feet and live a normal life to see me in the NBA and understand anything was possible”. Alonzo continues to do great work with his charity foundations, and just two weeks ago legislation was approved in Florida giving the most vulnerable kidney patients greater access to medical coverage. The bill passed is known as the “Alonzo Mourning Access to Care Act”, and is a symbol of the work and effort Zo has invested in the cause for several years.

You love to hear those feel-good stories of old veterans finally winning a championship when they were past their prime – Mitch Richmond finally won one with LA, Kevin Willis won one with San Antonio, Gary Payton got one with Miami. But after reading this book and re-familiarizing myself with the struggles and triumphs of Alonzo Mourning, Zo undoubtedly tops that list for me.

All NBA champions are heroes, having reached the pinnacle of achievement in their sport. But few have climbed obstacles as perilous and as reality-shifting as Alonzo, obstacles which dwarf that NBA pinnacle. “My lasting legacy will not be basketball” Mourning says towards the end of his book, and he is right. Alonzo was a true hero. Not just on the hardwood, but in life itself.

Alonzo video higlights
The early days with the Hornets
Zo’s best blocks
Zo dominates Mavs in Game 6 of 2006 Finals
Mourning’s number is raised to the rafters in Miami (I got a bit emotional watching this clip)
Zo’s retirement speech in full

Tags: Alonzo Mourning, book, comeback, Miami Heat, tribute

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