Recently, I have landed an amazing TV show that features me traveling to different NBA cities and getting to hang out with some of the game's premiere players. Think "MTV Cribs" meets "Insomniac" on Comedy Central and you pretty much know the drill. I've had the pleasure of hanging out with guys like Robert Horry, Dirk Nowitzki, Tim Duncan, Desmond Mason and Dikembe Mutombo just to name a few. The thing is, I may lose my job because all I want to do is talk Arizona basketball with everybody. For some players, it's a simple "What do you think about the Wildcats this year." For others, like Robert Horry, I ask why the hell he and his Alabama team of 1992 had to beat one of the strongest Wildcats squads assembled during the Lute Olson era. He laughed and said two words: "Latrell Sprewell." Oh, right.

I had an opportunity to ask Dirk Nowitzki, quite possibly the best player in the league this year, anything I wanted. Rather than question him about differences between playing in Germany and the U.S. or his unique training regime, I hit him with the following:

"What's it like playing with Jason Terry?"

I should have asked him about scoring 53 points in a game (Like he did earlier this year). Instead, I asked him about JT. Yes, I still have a massive problem with Arizona basketball.

Traveling from city to city is an incredible experience, especially because I am getting to fly in first class wherever I go. When I travel, I wear my sweet hooded Arizona Basketball sweatshirt and hide my IPOD in the pockets during take-off and landing. The best thing is that wearing an Arizona sweatshirt in first class makes people assume that you play for the 'Cats. (It doesn't hurt that I look like a white Donnell Harris). Of course, when questioned, I tell everybody I was the 12th man on the 1997 Championship team. Sorry John Ash. Respect.

Meeting Robert Horry, aka "Big Shot Rob" was a surreal experience, because all of my memories about that 2002 NBA season came down to the look of defeat on Mike Bibby's face when Robert sunk that three-pointer with 0.6 seconds left to end the Sacramento Kings' title run. He showed me a photo of the shot and there was Bibby, watching the release, moments away from heartbreak.

"How could you do that to Mike?" I asked him. "You are a sadistic Wildcat-hater and a bastard."

"Listen little man," Horry responded. "I'm six-foot-ten and I have five championship rings… You wanna take this outside?"

Uhh, no thanks. Go Spurs.

The worst thing about hanging out with basketball players is that I often get referred to as "little man." (Even though I'm a menacing 6'2"…)

Dikembe Mutombo, who is a towering 7'2" was talking about how he feels short next to Yao Ming. He the looked down at me and said "What are you, about 5'10"?"

Humiliating.

I asked Tim Duncan, NBA MVP in 2003, one of the most important journalistic questions that a player can be asked. He has two championship rings and is a shoe-in for the Hall of Fame. I looked him directly in the eye and asked, "How amazing was it to get to play with Sean Elliott AND Steve Kerr?"

He looked me over and said, "Listen little man... Let's focus on the future."

I'm sorry, folks, but it has been well-documented that one of my numerous childhood dreams was to play basketball for Lute Olson's Arizona Wildcats. We all know how that ended up. Still, basketball players aren't my only heroes. I've always had another smaller, more accessible hero who is based in Tucson folklore. And he recently helped make one of my dreams come true. No, I did not land an R.A. job in an all-female freshman dorm... (I'm still waiting to hear…) I have been officially recognized by Tucson's largest and most quotable public figure. Yes folks, I'm talking about Jim Click. The mighty master of the dealership. The king of cars. Jim Click. He recognized me! I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. The local auto celebrity, who once made my junior high dreams come true, said hello to me and wished me good luck in my career at a Tucson restaurant when I was in town for the holidays. My prayers have been answered… Maybe I should explain this a little deeper.

Growing up in Tucson, anybody who watches Arizona basketball or listens to the radio knows who Jim Click is. The moment his trademark opening phrase is delivered across the airwaves, you just get excited. It's that deep southern expression transported melodically in rapid-fire brilliance that Tucson youngsters imitate across Old Pueblo playgrounds throughout the city.

The phrase "HI I'RYEBODY, I'M JIM CLICK."

It's that word "I'RYEBODY." Is it even a word? Is he saying "Everybody?" Nobody truly knows, but it is addicting and as wonderful as a 30-point Wildcats blow-out of the Manhattan Jaspers. It's as much a part of introductory pop culture as Johnny Cash saying "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash."

The real reason I was so excited to be in the company of Click was because Jim Click will forever be known as the one responsible for bringing Rob Base and DJ Easy Rock to play at Salpointe High School for 20 minutes back in 1989. How he pulled it off, no one truly knows, but the rumors were that his daughter wanted to see her favorite band and Jim Click came through for all of us kids in Tucson.

When I asked my dad if he could bring Motley Crue to my high school the following year, the closest he came was getting John Oates of "Hall and Oates." Yep, Jim Click is a legend.

I remember that night so well. I had a partner in crime named RYAN NOSECK and we comprised the tightest white-boy rapping outfit at Townsend Junior High School. We were a two-man wrecking crew known as "SO FRESH." I wore African leather medallions to school and wore those 3 rd Bass flip-up glasses to seem more "intelligent." Yes, I was a tool. Sporting a way-too-lame-to-admit-I-had-one Matt Othick Arizona jersey, Ryan and I rolled out to Salpointe for a chance to see the dopest rappers in the game at that time. "It Takes Two" was the jam of the moment. "Joy and Pain" was every hot girl's favorite song. I could bust a mean 'cabbage patch.' It was about to be on.

Jim Click took the stage in front of the rappers, who were layered in gold medallions and Troop sweat suits. He introduced himself by grabbing the microphone and announcing, "HI I'RYEBODY, I'M JIM CLICK." The crowd roared, the distinguishable first notes of "It Takes Two" hit the air and Rob Base made the easiest money he ever made in a single performance.

As Ryan and I tried to impress each other with our "Running Man" moves, I told myself that one day I would thank Mr. Click for that wonderful evening on the Salpointe field. As I busted into a slick "Roger Rabbit" dance during a song, Jim Click passed right by me. He was off to hang backstage, probably drink some Old English 40's and write some ridiculous check for 10 G's to the fellas. He was the Charlie Finley of Tucson… Of course, Charlie Finley promised his town the Beatles in 1964 and he got them. For us in Tucson, where the only concerts taking place in 1989 were when Laura Branigan played Hi Corbett Field following a Tucson Toros game, Rob Base was a small-town victory. We had arrived, or so we thought.

That summer, NWA came out and danceable rap music was finished. I don't think Jim ever tried to hire the crew that sang "F$!% Tha Police," but I guarantee you his daughter would have been grateful. We are all grateful, which is why, at this stage of my life, I want to extend a hearty thank-you to my hero, Jim Click.

Especially because I just hired Rob Base and DJ Easy Rock to play my birthday party in April… John Oates wasn't available.

Editor's Note: When Zach isn't writing guest articles for GOAZCATS.com he is tourning with his band, "Zachariah and the Lobos Riders", cutting NBA Commericals and co-hosting Extreme Dodgeball. Thanks again to Zach.