The All-Star weekend is in the rear-view mirror, and after sifting through all its events, there is one event that will stay with me the remainder of the season, if not for as long as I cover pro hoops.

It's not of Kobe dishing to TD. It's not Vince's 360 jam nor Ray burying 10 in a row. Nor The Answer going 1-on-3 for another three-point play. Not even Snoop falling out of his limo amidst a gaggle of babes and a cloud of, um, burning hemp incense. The event that continues to resonate is the NBA players' wives dinner, which eulogized various NBAers who have recently died and honored four wives -- Lisa Sealy, Kendall Phills, Donna Harris-Lewis and Monica Smith -- who have carried on without their husbands.

Every wife broke down in tears as she accepted her award. Then Grant Hill's wife, recording artist Tamia, sang a song from her newly released CD as enormous candid photos flashed above the stage of the late coach Bill Musselman, Wilt, Malik Sealy, Derek Smith, Bobby Phills and Reggie Lewis. A fashion show followed, featuring various NBA players and their wives or mothers, but that only underscored for me the loss Lisa, Kendall, Donna and Monica must feel.

As I sat there, surrounded by the Mitch Richmonds and Karl Malones and Jason Kidds with their tailor-made suits and $10,000 watches and beautiful wives, I thought about how charmed I've always considered any player blessed with the physique and skill and determination to make it to the NBA. Would I trade for that life? In a minute. And then I thought about Malik, having had that life but dead at 30. As I attended parties and hobnobbed with KG and Kobe and shook hands with Sugar Ray Leonard and stood next to Red Auerbach as he puffed on his trademark cigar, I felt tremendously privileged. Not to be there, but just to be alive.