OFFICIAL NOTICE: YOU’VE BEEN SERVED WITH A SERIES LAUNCH

NAME: Readers of All Ages
DATE: April 13, 2025
REASON: Unauthorized Access to Billy C’s Basketball Archives
PENALTY: Getting Lost in Basketball Memories
OFFICIATING DAUGHTER: Signed, Stephanie

—

Welcome to Cunningham’s Court, where every visit begins with a cheer!

Even a summons is friendly in this Court. Take this one — it’s much like the good-humored “Technical Foul” they gave Dad when they retired his number 32 (a story you’ll find in Memory #32). In Cunningham’s Court, we don’t say “Order in the court!” — we say “Cheers!”

“Cheers from Cunningham’s Court!” seemed like the perfect tagline for this series. I’ve always loved the show Cheers, and what better way to welcome readers to these stories than with a warm greeting?

The name ‘Cunningham’s Court’ carries special meaning in our family. It references the basketball courts where Dad made his mark as player #32 and the name of Dad’s bar – a gathering place where stories were shared and memories were made off the court. It seems fitting that this collection of memories, spanning his professional career and personal life, carries this name that bridges both worlds.

But you want to know the rules of engagement? What’s on tap? – I get it.

How Cunningham’s Court Works

Each memory in this collection has been assigned a number—sometimes a jersey number, sometimes a year, sometimes an age, sometimes just a number that felt right in the moment. There’s no chronological order here; we’re retrieving these memories as they come, are discovered, and are remembered.

Some days, I’ll dial up stories on the memory hotline. On other days, I might spin the basketball carousel or rifle through the filing cabinet of the past. The retrieval method may change, but the mission remains the same: preserving these moments before they fade away like newsprint.

No matter what, you’ll always be served a good memory and good cheer!

What You’ll Find in These Archives

Inside these memories, you’ll discover stories already served, such as:

• Stories from the hardwood – Like when Dad played alongside Wilt Chamberlain and Hal Greer in 1968 (Memory #68)
• Off-court adventures – Like when 25-year-old Dad ran out of gas and jogged down the Schuylkill Expressway (Memory #25)
• Origin stories – Like how Dad got stuck with jersey #32 simply because it was “the last number left” (Memory #32)
• Historical moments – Both in basketball and in American history
• Family treasures – The memorabilia that survived our house fire, from plaques to technical fouls that weren’t really technical fouls

Why 75 Memories?

Why start with Memory #75? This journey should begin with the number that sparked it all.

Is it because Dad was named one of the Top 75 NBA Players of All Time? Yes. That’s when I got the idea to share his Top 75 Memories.

Dad had already been named to the NBA at 50: Top 50 Players and that will make a fine Memory #50 someday, but Dad doesn’t care about these accolades (and I like to joke, he couldn’t get downgraded once they came out with the Top 75, so 75 it is.

Is it because I’ve counted exactly 75 stories worth telling? Absolutely not.

The truth is, there are hundreds of stories in these archives. I found his commemorative plaque not in the basement where I expected, but tucked away in another room entirely, and it got me thinking about all these memories waiting to be shared. If we go beyond 75, well, that’s just bonus content.

Why are these memories out of order? How frustrating!

It’s like getting your food before you get your drinks or that waitress who never bothers to return to your table.

Our old basement in our childhood home held so many treasures. Yellow thick shag carpet, the smell of mildew, and those four bubble-glass windows that barely let in any light. Dad’s section had the TV with the Betamax (later the VCR), tapes piled high, and the yellow pad always filled with notes. Behind closed doors sat the Christmas decorations and Dad’s trophies – the ones he never cared anything about.

After the fire, that “junk” ended up in my basement and other rooms throughout the house. But why are they sitting there, collecting dust, when they should be stories waiting to be told at Cunningham’s Court?

Now I go down to the basement, much like Dad watching and taking notes on all those games, and sift through the photos, old papers, trophies, and luggage. Only these artifacts have taken on new meaning. That “stuff” that Dad never cared about has stories to tell.

And what better place to share them than at Cunningham’s Court, where every memory comes with a cheer.

Here you’ll join me as I remember Dad hobbling up the stairs after he’d worked out too much. We’d call him Superman — “There he goes again,” we’d say, “thinking he can move buildings and do crazy deals.”

But sometimes, when I look through these mementos, I realize the crazy feats he accomplished. He was my Superman, or maybe just my kangaroo, leaping tall buildings or courts in a single bound and capturing hearts on and off the court.

So you’ll never know what memory I’ll find next or how it might hit you or in what order you may discover it. That’s the beauty of these archives—they’re as unpredictable as a basketball game’s final minutes.

---

So, Cheers from Cunningham’s Court—the beginning of our journey through the Basketball Archives. From his Erasmus High School days to his UNC years, from the 76ers championship team to coaching and beyond, we’re unlocking these memories one number at a time.

Some might call this a blog series. I call it preservation. Dad might just call it “not much of a story.” But I know better, and soon, so will you.

Stay tuned for the next memory retrieval (but don’t mind the wait). Cunningham’s Court is officially open.

This is Memory #75 in “Cunningham’s Court: 75 Basketball Memories” – a daughter’s collection preserving the legacy of Billy Cunningham, one of the NBA’s Top 75 Players of All Time.

Cheers from Cunningham’s Court!