I’ll admit it: Bob Cousy had at least 25 sets of eyes. He had the creativity of Mozart, Beethoven or Michelangelo, and the foresight of a fortune teller. But let’s be honest — he was playing against the blind, deaf and physically challenged. I could have played in that era and averaged 40 points per game. At least. Half the players couldn’t dribble with their left hands. Dunking was unheard of. The weight room, players thought, was where you waited for an appointment. Put me back into the 1950s and I promise you I would average a triple double, blindfolded. Sorry, Cous, it’s nothing against you. You were great and you were a trail blazer for the game. But I play better competition at the local Y.
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