Dan McNeil on the late Norm Van Lier

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: Norm Van Lier's death is lasting memory of 2009 : Man of the people Van Lier's death is lasting memory of '09 : Dan McNeil : December 18, 2009 | Chicago Tribune : : I don't do Year in Review. With regularity, it's tedious, uninspired. : But I'll make one exception: the most crushing loss of 2009. : When Norm Van Lier passed on Feb. 26, Chicago lost a lot more than an athlete-turned-broadcaster. We lost a guy who would fight for us -- if he liked us. Who laughed with us, toasted with us, walked among us. He belonged to Chicago. Stormin' loved this city, and most who met him loved him back. : I'm grateful for the time I spent with Norm Van Lier, but it's damn hard not to also feel cheated. And a little guilty. : In his last appearance on my radio program, he chided me for "not inviting a brotha down to Mackeyland. We could sit in beanbag chairs and light the lava lamps and put on Zeppelin." : The connection between friends who share music is powerful. About a dozen years ago, we were giddy teenagers bounding into the House of Blues to see if the late John Bonham's son, Jason, could hit skins a fraction as hard as Daddy. : He couldn't -- nobody could -- and then Norman and I walked over to Harry Caray's for another bourbon. : He appreciated every admirer. He was always genuine. Van Lier, 61 when he died, was not the most polished broadcaster. He sometimes got lost in his thoughts. Other times, he had no thoughts. But he kept talking. : Some recounting of Van Lier's life disturbed me, too often portraying Norm as a bitter, depressed man. : Bull. The best adjectives: Forthright. Passionate. Warm. : He never misled anybody. He was full disclosure, even when regaling a listening audience on his early days in the NBA, when his offseason retreat began with a trip to Wisconsin, his music and LSD in tow. When he said that on my show, I reminded him, maybe he could have softened the language a bit. : His reply amounted to this: God knows everything I've done. Why should I lie on your show? : Norm partied. So what? Sanctimonious media were nauseating, looking down their noses at a man they used for sound bites. I know what has been in a lot of our noses. Hello, Kettle, I'm Pot. : Cause of death remains a mystery. Norm was not. : Pittsburgh kids in the '60s didn't grow up anticipating a life of entitlement. When he didn't have a football, he improvised with a duct-taped coffee can. : College basketball powerhouses passed on the scrappy but scrawny Van Lier, so he went to St. Francis. He scratched and clawed for everything. He was a third-round pick who made three All-Star teams and was a regular All-NBA defender. Van Lier quarterbacked the first Bulls team that mattered, the 1974-75 club that pushed Golden State to the brink in the playoffs. : There won't be another like Norm. I will miss him forever. The hues of our Bulls world -- and those of many establishments in Chicagoland -- are decidedly flatter without him. : I'm getting myself a pair of those Van Lier-style red suede Adidas low tops this Christmas. Gonna get in that beanbag and raise a glass to my departed friend. : That's the only Norm Van Lier light I have as '09 wraps. Norm knew as well as anybody, everybody needs the light. : Dan McNeil is host of the "Danny Mac Show" on WSCR-AM 670, weekdays from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m.

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