My sincere condolences to the family of Dutch Garfinkel. The physical body may have passed but for those of us who knew him, his spirit and our memories of him still live on. Had I not seen the documentary First Basket a few weeks ago, I would be saying that the last time I saw Dutch was over 50 years ago when he helped many of us ease the painful transition from "boyhood" to manhood. Seeing him on screen -- looking younger than me (69) -- not only made my lips smile, but if it's possible, my entire body grin. His voice really hadn't changed much (maybe a bit more scraggy and even a bit more Brooklyn), and I certainly recognized him as if 50 + years just melted away and I was back in his class at George Gershwin Junior High School, listening as he enlightened a class of naive pre-adolescents on how to grow up to be a mensch and the advantages of the underhand free throw (long, long before Rick Barry). I still throw that way and I still make more shots at the foul line than kids a quarter my age. Best compliment I received was having the local ball hustlers point to me after one of their own kept missing shots and say, "Hey 'Hands', one more miss and we're gonna have that old white guy sub for you, at least he can 'swish a free'". THANK YOU, DUTCH! I won't miss you, because you'll always be with me as long there's a ball that bounces and a hoop overhead.