MELBOURNE (Paulo Kennedy's View from Downunder) - It was mid-1993 when my school, Mentone Grammar, announced they would be part of a combined schools basketball tour to the USA the following January.

The trip would involve two teams playing games against high school varsity and junior varsity teams all down the west coast - a young hoopster's dream. The only problem was my parents already worked their backsides off just to send my brother and I to a private school, sacrificing almost everything else.

While $3000 for a month-long trip doesn't sound like much, at that time and in our circumstances it was an absolute fortune, so the answer to my beggings was a definite no. Sadly, all the money I had saved from many years doing my paper round with Elle - my corgi-border collie-blue healer cross - wasn't enough.

At that time our family did a fair chunk of our clothes shopping at a place called Sweathog, which produced pretty affordable and durable gear, perfect for a kid like me who never stopped running around. Given the year before - from ages 14-15 - I had grown from a pint-sized 4ft 10in to an almost respectable 5ft 4in, we were there quite a bit!

The very hands-on owner of Sweathog was a rather unique man named Joe Zylberberg, unmistakable for his large stature, leather jacket and thick black glasses. Joe was always busy around the store, always interacting with customers and he was always up for a chat about basketball, which suited me just fine.

One day, I was talking to him about school basketball and the trip of a lifetime to the USA that I couldn't go on. Incredibly, he offered me a Sweathog sponsorship for the tour. Between that and my fortune made delivering the news (as well as my parents digging deep) I was able to take on the Yanks at their own game.

It was an eye-opening experience, not only playing against a great level of opposition, but seeing a new country, having the responsibility of budgeting for the first time, going to NBA and college games. Heck I even had my first kiss at Disneyland (although I should confess it was such a poor attempt it shouldn't really count!).

It wouldn't have been possible without Joe, something I am still grateful for until this day. Of course, had I known a little bit more about the man at that time I wouldn't have been surprised.

Joe came to basketball fame as the owner of the Southern Melbourne 'Sweathog' Saints, an NBL team best known during their brief existence for the red boots worn by Simon Kerle and Andrew Parkinson.

The Saints merged with the Spectres to form the South East Melbourne Magic in 1992, who became a powerhouse of the NBL on and off the floor. Two championships quickly followed the merger, and crowds of up to 15,000 flocked to Melbourne Park to see Brian Goorjian's men play.

Joe was still a key backer, but even though the Magic castle looked impenetrable from the outside, he was a keen observer and knew something wasn't right, telling me quietly one day not to expect the NBL to remain so popular for much longer.

I was shocked, all the glitz and glamour certainly had me convinced, but time has shown Joe knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Back in the Saints days, the players used to come into the office after training, take over all the phones and ring primary schools asking if they could go out and run clinics with the kids," he told me sometime around 1996. "Nowadays I have schools begging for players to come out but it's so hard to get them to go. One player told me, 'Joe, I earn $150,000, I don't need to go out and talk to some snotty-nosed kids.'"

I could tell this made Joe sad. He put a lot of his hard-earned money into basketball in this country. He loved being able to support those who wanted to excel and create a product that got people excited about basketball. But he must have been heartbroken to see those same players taking their new position for granted.

After the turn of the century, Joe's involvement in the NBL seemed to fade, though he was always involved in some way. He had new projects like his steakhouse in Brighton, his cake shop in Chelsea and probably a dozen others I didn't hear about.

I was fortunate enough to keep bumping into him on random occasions over the years, each time taking away a piece of wisdom that he was so good at imparting. It was great to see him back involved with new NBL club Melbourne United as their Director of Game Day Entertainment and a mentor for their staff.

Anyone who went to a United game this season would know they put on a high-quality show. The crowds they consistently attracted last season matched anything any Melbourne team has managed against interstate opponents, even in the glory days of the early 1990s.

Joe was a small part of United's success, but the impressive off-court product they put on show had his fingerprints all over it - he liked things done properly.

Why am I writing all this? Because sadly, this week, Joe passed away. There is so much knowledge of NBL basketball in Melbourne that goes with him, and there was so much more for him to give, but unfortunately it was his time to go. United CEO Vince Crivelli described him as "an integral part of Melbourne basketball for more than three decades".

We all saw how frail Perth Wildcats owner Jack Bendat looked at last season's grand final decider. I hope Joe's passing is a reminder that we should show our gratitude to these generous people who make professional basketball possible in this country and give so many of our best young athletes the opportunity to make a living and be role models for the next generation.

Folks like Bendat, Paul and Liz Blackwell, Michael Slepoy, Larry Kestelman and countless others who have invested in our sport over the years.

For all the money we see them spend on the NBL, you know there are likely so many other causes they support that never get publicised, just like Joe did by making my trip to America possible even though he knew there would be no return for him.

Basketball in Melbourne is worse off for Joe passing, but everyone who was touched by his passion for the sport is better off for him being around.

Rest in peace, Joe.

Paulo Kennedy

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