Amico: Bingo Smith Helped Make Cavs Matter to Me

When my dad took me to a Cavaliers game for the first time, I agreed to go for one reason — to watch Bingo Smith.

At the time, he was the only Cavs player I knew. I wasn’t a big basketball fan at the time, maybe just 7- or 8-years old. I was more into Spider-Man, Batman, Superman and all the rest. But to me, Bingo Smith was a superhero, too.

My dad would watch or listen to the game, with Joe Tait on the call, and I’d hear, “Bingo!” time and again. Tait just boomed out Smith’s name. 

Interestingly, I knew what Smith looked like before I ever even attended or saw a game. I credit Tait and the daily newspapers for that. But back then, Smith and the Cavs were always in black and white. They were rarely on television. If they were, I only had a passing interest.

My dad went to plenty of Cavs games long before I cared. He would talk to me about Austin Carr, Campy Russell, Jim Chones, Foots Walker, Akron product Nate Thurmond … and Smith. Within a short time, I grew to love them all. My first basketball jersey was a Carr jersey. But my first Cavs t-shirt read “Smith” on the back.

I don’t remember much about Smith’s performance the first time I saw him play. My dad and I were sitting in the third or fourth row under the basket, well before tipoff, and Smith was warming up. I yelled out “Bingo!” He looked over, smiled, and waved. It made my night and probably my week. I talked incessantly to my mom about it. I told everyone at school the next day. I finally started taking an interest in the NBA and Cavs for one reason — Bingo Smith.

For a few years, I didn’t really care if the Cavs won or lost. I merely tuned in to see how many points Smith scored. After all, I figured we were probably friends. That’s just the way the world works when you’re 7-years old.

Eventually, I watched the Cavs and cried if they lost. Not a playoff game, either. It could’ve been a meaningless regular season game in January, but if the Cavs lost, I got upset. That’s also the way the world works when you’re 7-years old.

As for Smith, I remember a smooth guard, 6-foot-5, the consummate pro. As a kid, I viewed him as a “quiet killer” on the court. Without a doubt, there were times when I was pretending to be Bingo Smith, with a basketball and time winding down, in the driveway.

Fast-forward about 30 years later. I started covering the team for which Smith played. It became my job. In the time since, I’ve developed friendships with Carr and Russell, two of the greatest men I’ve ever come across. I consider them friends and consider myself blessed because of it.

I never really had a chance to get to know Smith, who has passed away at the age of 77, per an announcement from the team. I did see him around from time to time, but never had a chance to tell him about a moment he surely forgot — and one I’ll remember forever.

Some of my favorite stories about the Cavs are from the era of my childhood, and most are stories I’ve heard just over the past decade, just from my time being around the organization. Russell, Carr, Thurmond, Chones … and Smith. It reminds me that I have the job that those men had a hand in me wanting in the first place.

And really, one helped get me here without ever knowing it. If you’re guessing it was Smith, I have one response: Bingo!

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