"2001 Between the Lines" is a series of columns by Magazine writers looking back at small, but significant, moments in sports.

My grandest moment of the year? Seeing Magic Johnson in a size XXXXXXXL basketball jersey.

He looked humongous. He looked like he could bench press Charles Barkley. He was all biceps and triceps and PowerBars.

I had been in the room in 1991, when he announced he had contracted a death sentence. And now, in 2001, I was in a Long Beach gymnasium he had helped fill to the hilt. Death sentence? We had it all wrong.

Ten years later, it was Magic Johnson who was making a killing -- not HIV. Ten years later, Magic Johnson was a corporate player and a basketball player. His businesses were flourishing. His foundations helped needy children, sick children, needy adults, sick adults. And meanwhile, he still had time for triple-doubles now and then.

	Gene Wojciechowski: Ralph Friedgen thinks big at Maryland Tim Keown: In May, anything seemed possible for the Twins Jeff Bradley: U.S. Soccer takes root in the heartland Ric Bucher: Lakers win! So why is Kobe Bryant crying? David Fleming: Jermaine Lewis and the gift of Hope Tom Friend: Magic Johnson continues to amaze us Steve Wulf: Reveling in the youth movement

The day I saw him play in Long Beach, at the L.A. Pro Summer League, he still had it. The eyes in the back of his head? Had it. The timing on his alley-oop pass? Had it. The outside touch? Had it. The time to sign 1,000 autographs? Had it.

Kids who were 7 or 8 years old tugged on his sleeve, and shouted: "Magic! Magic! Magic!"

They were so young, I decided I'd ask them if they knew what team he used to play for.

"Sixers?" one of them said.

That's when it hit me. Some people, you don't know why you love them.

You just do.

***

Worst moment of the year? I grew up in Maryland, so when the University from College Park reached the Final Four in Minneapolis, I had to be there.

Needed a souvenir, of course, and so I stood in line on Semifinal Saturday to buy a T-shirt. Unfortunately, I was right behind a couple of Dookies. Couldn't help but overhear them.

Dookie #1: "Which T-shirt do you want? The one that says, '2001 Final Four' or the one that says '2001 Big Dance'?"

Dookie #2: "Neither."

Dookie #1: "Why?"

Dookie #2: "Because let's wait two days and buy a 'Duke: National Champions' T-shirt."

Dookie #1: "Good idea."

So they left. So smug, so correct, so ... Duke.

How soon is Jason Williams leaving?

Tom Friend is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at tom.friend@espnmag.com.