Every Blazer fan has a favorite Blazer moment. Sadly, I was born a few months after the championship parade, and my most prominent Blazer memories probably go like this:

1. Blazers, in the conference finals, are about to steal one from the Spurs when Sean Elliot hits a three pointer falling out of bounds.
2. Blazers, about to win game 7 of the conference finals, miss 85 shots in a row and watch Kobe and The Big Lucky To Be On Kobe's Team That Game walk away to the finals.
3. Blazers, about to send the conference finals series back to Portland with a game 7 win, watch Terry Porter's wide open jumper bounce off the rim, and Magic Johnson somehow has the brains to toss the ball backward over his head as time (almost) runs out.

I could go on. Obviously, none of these are my favorite Blazer moment, or I wouldn't be much of a fan. No...I have to really go outside the box to come up with a favorite moment. Take it off of the court. My favorite moment, oddly, occurred in Seaside, and involves, oddly, Clifford Robinson.

It must have been the summer of 1996. My then-girlfriend/now-wife were walking down one of the main sidewalks in Seaside. We look up at the very awkward looking sight of Clifford Robinson and family pedaling one of those four-person bicycle-carts along the street.

Despite the 6-10 small-forward trying to look comfortable squeezed into a cart built for adults and children about a foot shorter, it was kind of a refreshing sight. An NBA player out with his family, in a small town, like a normal person.

Suddenly, a middle-aged woman across the street interrupted the scene with a shrill cry.

"Heeeeey Clyde!"

A look of anguish appeared on Uncle Cliffy's face. It was the same look that you might see on a 14-year old girl's face when her mother breaks out the embarrassing naked-baby story at her birthday party, in front of everyone. The look that says, "The only thing that could be more humiliating right now would be to let all of these people know that you got to me."

The whole situation was so great that even my wife found it hilarious. And she doesn't know the difference between Clyde Drexler and Clyde...uh... Clive Davis? Okay...that's obviously not true or she wouldn't have found it amusing. Regardless, the comedic value of this exchange and subsequent Uncle Cliffy anguish was high, even to someone (my wife) who despises basketball with a passion (my fault. Story for another time).

Sadly, Clifford Robinson would take his playoff choking to the Suns shortly thereafter. I believe this was the first domino in a series of events that led to his departure. It is a moment that I will always hold dear in my Blazer memory.