In basketball, there is only one "big O." That would be Oscar Robertson, the all-purpose guard who dominated the NBA through much of the '60s.
But Utah has had its own "O" for most of 11 years now. Greg Ostertag, who unexpectedly announced his retirement from the game this week, has not dominated basketball in any fashion. Despite being big (at 7-foot-2, 280 pounds he could stand alone in a crowded elevator), he never has been classed with the best of the league's centers. He has, however, left a mark in Utah that will linger.
Ostertag was one of those rare players who could make fans cringe even as they developed an abiding respect for him as a person. That unusual contradiction was reflected in coach Jerry Sloan's attitude toward him, as well. Through the years, the coach has gone out of his way to express his respect for Ostertag as a person, even as he has screamed at him for not playing hard enough.
Modern athletics can seem like a case study in misplaced priorities. But Ostertag's priorities always seemed to be a bit different than everyone else's in the league.
Mostly, that was a good thing, such as when he risked his playing career by voluntarily donating a kidney to save his sister's life. That act alone probably said more about the real Ostertag than anything else Utahns have seen him do.
His retirement is an example of good priorities, as well. Ostertag admits he has no real desire to play any more, despite the money to be earned. A lot of people would have no trouble prolonging a useless career for money.
But his priorities on the court could be maddening, especially during those times when he seemed to give less than his all, or when he seemed to needlessly get into arguments with Sloan.
Once he leaves, however, there will be no remaining link among Jazz players to the glory days of the championship series in 1997 and '98, and the locker room will be a lot less colorful. That's a sad thing for the franchise.
"O" can stand for a lot of things, not all of them good. But it also can symbolize someone who is well-rounded. Ostertag may not always have been perfectly rounded as a Jazz player. He may not have inspired too many people to spend upwards of $50 a seat to watch him play. But it's safe to say he comes across as the type of person many would be thrilled to have as a next-door neighbor.
Ultimately, that's what matters most.