Colin Cowherd Podcast Prime Cuts - Dr. J Talks Talks A.B.A., Done With The Draft Combine, Bears Aren’t Moving To Indiana, LeBron’s Importance To NBA

I’m a sucker for a great sports doc, so when I saw Soul Power about the ABA, I had to bring in the first player I ever adored, Julius Erving, and ask about those ABA–NBA exhibitions and whether the ABA’s flash and freedom gave you a chip when you faced the so‑called parent league.

I played in a couple of those and they felt massive for us, because beating established NBA names proved we belonged and fueled the merger push. I chose the ABA early for an opportunity that cost me the Olympics, but that era was bigger than basketball—culture, race, and change were all in the mix.

I remember the NBA on tape delay and teams flying commercial—what was ABA travel like when money was even tighter?

We shared rooms and stayed where we could, but coming from a bus‑heavy college schedule it was actually a step up, and I learned a lot riding with guys like Steve Mix.

I’ve always viewed the ABA as a true disruptor, like ride‑shares were for taxis, and you spent a big chunk of your prime there—do you ever regret that knowing how under‑televised it was?

I’m good with my path; it shaped me, and my empathy goes to ABA teammates who never got recognition or pensions. My numbers stack up, but in Philly I was asked to scale back because we had scorers, which was new for me and reflected the NBA’s structure then.

Those Sixers I loved were loaded with ABA DNA—Mix, you, McGinnis, Bobby Jones.

We carried ABA habits over—extra work after practice, mentoring scorers like Andrew Toney—and I’d preach smart energy, like using set shots instead of always jumping to the peak.

Shifting to Chicago, the Bears’ stadium saga feels wild—Pritzker’s sharp, Chicago’s an elite sports town, and moving to northwest Indiana makes no sense to me; how do you see it?

It’s a joyless tax fight more than a football story; the Bears will still be the Chicago Bears wherever they play, and Soldier Field’s issues flowed from not owning it. The McCaskeys want control but don’t have loose billions, so this is leverage, not love.

Illinois won’t write a huge public check, Indiana might try, but buying the Arlington Park site tells you the likely ending, and this is all to lower the property tax bill. I care more about Caleb Williams with a good play‑caller than the zip code.

For the record, northwest Indiana has casinos and cheap taxes, but it’s not where you build a crown‑jewel NFL experience; I still think it lands in Arlington Heights.

Kevin Warren promised shovels soon and here we are still playing political chicken, so patience—Arlington remains the practical outcome.

On the Lakers, I defend LeBron’s mobility, but there’s less romance for mercenaries, and L.A. moves on fast; the data says a Luka–LeBron pairing is clunky anyway.

LeBron matters more to the NBA than to the Lakers brand, so the team can say goodbye, but the league will feel it because he still drives interest everywhere he goes.

He’s so famous that even clips of him learning golf hit, and I do wonder what fills all the studio hours once he’s truly gone.

Baseball doesn’t get much free airtime, which is why Ohtani and the Dodgers as a kind of villain help, and lately I talk teams like the Knicks or Celtics more than individual stars because the league lacks a unifying lightning rod.

As for the NFL Combine, I’m out—the rehearsed interviews and 40 times don’t tell me much about who survives the grind by October.

Same here; it’s the underwear Olympics turned into eight hours of TV, and the top guys rarely do the meaningful stuff anyway.

Regular‑season college hoops also lost me; when your seed barely shifts and you’re far from campus, one mid‑winter game just doesn’t move the needle.