24 AMERICANWAY
FEBRUARY 15 2009
J I M
D G
S
O
T
L
E I N
Alongwith the cast of characters youwould expect to see on the court prior to an
NBA game stands another, who, at first glance, looksmore than a little out of place.
Dressed in tight salmon-colored pants, knee-high leather boots, a leather jacket,
and a wide-brimmed hat — expensive clothes he picked up on one of his frequent
fashion-week visits to Paris, Milan, andMoscow and then later plucked out of the
massive closet he has in his JohnLautner–designedmansion in the hills above Los
Angeles— JimGoldstein quietly and carefully scrutinizes theWarriors as they toss
in a few last-minute layups anddunks. To the untrained eye, Goldstein, whose long
gray hair flows down to his shoulders from underneath his hat, might look like an
older fashiondesigner.
But the truth isGoldstein is afixture in theNBA, knownnot just inL.A.,wherehe
has long been a season-ticket holder for both the Clippers and their Staples Center
cotenants, theLosAngeles Lakers, but also around the league, counting players like
Phoenix Suns guard Steve Nash, coaches, owners, announcers, and even commis-
sionerDavidSternas friends. Indeed, therearemanyaround the leaguewhoconsider
Goldstein the NBA’s ultimate superfan. This becomes apparent as time ticks down
to the start of the game. CoreyMaggette, a forward for theWarriors, is all smiles as
he towers over the slightGoldstein and tells the fanhowpleasedhe iswithhismove
from theClippers to theBayArea. (Andwhowouldn’tbe, considering thehorrendous
start the Clippers are off to?) Don Nelson, theWarriors’ head coach, gives a tight
smilewhenGoldsteinquips that he doesn’t recognize anybody on the roster. Nelson
jokes thathedoesn’teither.Evenafter thegamebegins, thegreetingsdon’tend;when
the ball bounces out nearGoldstein’s seat behind one of the goals, Clippers forward
MarcusCambypoints andwaves.
This is a familiarity that Goldstein has certainly earned— or at least paid good
money for. He easily spends six figures to attend between 110 and 120 games per
year and often finds himself living out of hotels during the playoffs, trying to catch
as many games as possible and even scurrying to get to two cities in a single day.
He shows upat press conferences, teampractice facilities, and, increasingly, interna-
tional games, like theEuropeanChampionships and theBeijingOlympics.Whether
it’s due tohis fashion sense or his sheer ubiquity, hehas become apart of the league.
Agood20minutes
before theLosAngeles
Clippersand theGolden
StateWarriors tipoff in
anearly-seasonmatchup
at L.A.’sStaplesCenter,
onlyahandful of select
peopleareallowedonto
thecourt.Theplayers,
of course, stretchand
shoot,warmingupun-
der thewatchful eyesof
theircoaches.The refs,
too, get limber, prep-
ping theirolderbodies
tochase thesehighly
tuned,muchyounger
athletesupanddown the
court.A few television
and radioannouncersdo
livespots, trying togin
upsomeexcitement for
what isadecidedly low-
stakesearly-afternoon
affair.TheClippershave
onlyonewin in their first
eight games, and the
Warriorsarestill find
ing theirwayafter losing
their starguard,Baron
Davis, to theClippers.
