“The Greek comes into the league at 6-9 and 200 pounds, and now he’s 6-11 and 240 pounds, and his game takes a leap every year,” Brown said. “The Greek understands life, and you know why? Because he was selling stuff on the streets of Athens as a kid.”

We stood in an arena hallway, and the man mountain known as Shaquille O’Neal put a hand on Brown’s shoulder. Brown grabbed Shaq’s mitt, his own hand disappearing into a rabbit hole. Later Raptors center Marc Gasol chatted with Brown, who coached his older brother, Pau, in Memphis.

Brown has pet peeves, which he refers to as crimes, by which he means transgressions against hooping. During the last series, his eyes grew wide as he watched a few Bucks bench players standing outside a huddle staring into space.

When Brown coached, he positioned assistants outside the circle, and if they saw a player with wandering attention, Brown would issue a fine. “I did a Clipper game, I couldn’t believe it, two guys were waving to women,” he said. “I’m a fan paying a lot of money, and that? What the hell?”

I met Brown for breakfast recently. He walked in wearing a black Nike athletic shirt and pants and white sneakers. The interview, a disquisition really, lasted three entertaining hours, his mind a smooth-playing L.P., never skipping a groove.

I wondered aloud why the Raptors were getting beat on backdoor cuts. Brown turned his omelet sideways. This is the court, he said. He put the salt and pepper shakers at either end — those were the baskets. He used the cutlery to delineate the sidelines and the fork to diagram the backdoor cuts.

“I believe in visual learning,” he said.

He started his broadcast career in the early 1980s, and he would not allow himself to coast. He made sure to see every team in the league play several times and, if possible, broadcast their games, a practice he adheres to still. One season he broadcast 115 games, pro and college.