About this episode
Colin’s joined by NBA legend Julius Irving to discuss his new documentary Soul Power: The Legend of the American Basketball Association. Finally, Colin reacts to the shocking retirement from Chicago Bears Center Drew Dalman. How will this impact Caleb Williams and the Chicago Bears going forward? (Timestamps may vary based on advertisements.) Follow Colin and The Volume on Twitter for the latest content and updates! #Volume See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
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Episode summary
I’m a sucker for a great sports doc, and Amazon’s Soul Power on the ABA grabbed me; I grew up idolizing Julius Erving but barely saw the ABA without a TV deal, so I asked him about those ABA versus NBA exhibitions and whether they played with a chip.
Those games meant everything to us—we were young, hungry, and proving we could beat the established names, which built belief and pushed the merger conversation forward.
I left school early for an ABA offer that matched top NBA money, which cost me the Olympics in a tense era where basketball sat inside bigger cultural and racial currents.
Back then the NBA flew commercial and even the Finals aired late; what were ABA travel and hotels like?
We stayed in modest places and shared rooms, which still felt like a step up from my bus-heavy college trips, and I even kept a roommate in Philly because I valued that bond.
The ABA was a true disruptor—flash, flair, and stars who drew attention like rideshares did to taxis—and your resume spans both leagues.
I was an All-Star every season I played, with top honors on both sides, but the labels mattered less to me than the game itself.
Do you ever regret that so much of your prime lived off the NBA’s main stage?
No regrets—the path made me, and I worry more about ABA peers who never got recognition or pensions; in Philly I was even told to dial back scoring because we were stacked, a sign of how structured the NBA was then.
That Sixers group felt like an ABA team that won the NBA; fair?
Absolutely, and I brought ABA habits with me—extra work after practice, mentoring Andrew Toney, and smart fundamentals like conserving lift instead of jumping at max on every shot.
Did you see the merger coming, or did it blindside you?
Agents said it was near for years, but it took five; some ABA teams tried to apply straight to the NBA, chaos followed, and in the end only a handful made it while good ones like Denver, San Antonio, and Indiana showed they belonged.
Who was the first NBA opponent who made you think, okay, this is the bar?
Walt Frazier and those Knicks, because he really defended; we beat them in exhibitions, they blamed conditioning, but I believe you compete every time you lace them up.
How much of your artistry was drilled versus instinct?
Teammates said I moved differently, and my job was to perform without demeaning rivals; the ABA had a one-for-all ethos, and those years in my early twenties were pure joy.
Which ABA players deserved more shine in the NBA?
Jimmy Jones, Willie Wise, and Mack Calvin come to mind, and Warren Jabali was a powerhouse—I once scored sixty three in a four-overtime duel while he poured in the fifties; the league also had enforcers, and after a scrap with Maurice Lucas we became friends as teams protected stars with guys like Wendell Ladner.
The doc shows a lot of fights—was it really nightly?
Earlier years were wilder, and even later you needed enforcers like in hockey; today fewer players do that because everyone’s invested in staying healthy.
Tell us about Rucker Park and how 'Dr. J' took off.
I hit Rucker after turning pro when Charlie Scott brought me, our Squires branding locked in 'Dr. J,' and those summers taught me the pro rhythm—from parking-lot rituals to coaches like Al Bianchi and even a trainer pulling me so no one took a shot at me.
Style mattered in the ABA—afros, fashion, the whole vibe—was that by design?
It was the era—bell bottoms, dashikis, and hair that nodded to heritage—with plenty of help from wives and sisters, and personal style became part of the league’s identity.
When you hit the NBA, did the structure squeeze your game?
There was real push-pull with teammates and schemes, bigger going from the Nets to the Sixers than from the Squires to the Nets, but I adapted through roster changes and did my job.
Will the NBA ever fold ABA stats into its official history?
The basketball community already counts them, even if TV packages often start the story in the modern cable era; I want the full record acknowledged.
Soul Power on Prime is a blast—archival gold, wild scraps, and your story at the center.
Thanks—there’s much more to tell, and fans will love the ride.
Quick pivot after Dr. J: Bears center Drew Dolman abruptly retired, and while it’s a blow to their plans I’ll always back linemen who step away early from a punishing spot; they’ll find a center in a strong draft.