'Don’t want my home to look like a tribute': Bucks legend Bob Dandridge ready to part with memorabilia

Bob Dandridge doesn’t need mementos from his time with the Milwaukee Bucks and Washington Bullets to remember his basketball career the way he did years ago. 

The 76-year-old has adapted well to the age of social media. Any time he wants to relive a memory, he just flips on YouTube and watches it.

Perhaps that’s why it’s easier for him to part with items that helped define his Hall of Fame career, including winning NBA championships with the Bucks in 1971 and Bullets in 1978.

1978 championship ring is highlight of auction items

Dandridge is consigning several iconic pieces from his personal collection, which will be auctioned in Heritage Auctions’ Winter Platinum Night Sports Auction on Feb. 24-25.

It includes his 1978 championship ring, a game-worn Bucks home jersey from the 1972-73 season, a game-worn Bullets jersey from Game 3 of the NBA Finals in 1979 and his Naismith Memorial Hall of Fame Trophy he received after being enshrined as part of the 2021 class.

All four items have five-figure estimates, highlighted by the championship ring that is expected to go for at least $40,000.

“It’s really exciting, because the most coveted collectibles in any sport are pieces of memorabilia from Hall of Famers,” said Heritage consignment director Chris Nerat, who is a graduate of Marinette High School and the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay. “Those collectibles have been in his possession since his playing days and never seen the light of day until now. All those attributes make it very, very intriguing to hobbyists.”

The auction proceeds will be a nice chunk of change for a player of Dandridge’s talents from the 1970s. He made solid money during his time in the NBA, but nothing like what players make now.

It will supplement his NBA pension and his health insurance. He also would like to help his children and grandchildren.

Dandridge feels blessed that even if he didn’t sell his items, he’d still be able to live a quality life.

“The kids are gone, and a lot of the spaces in the house that used to be filled with my awards and trophies, those spaces are now needed for the grandkids,” Dandridge said. “So, I have to begin to make room for those items. A lot of these items have just been sitting in boxes. We as athletes have probably given away so many items that we took for granted.”

Dandridge laughed as he recalled giving someone a championship jersey from his time with the Bucks, which essentially was handing over at least $10,000.

There was not as big a market for memorabilia when he was playing.

“Maybe in baseball, with trading cards,” Dandridge said. “It’s probably only been the last 25 years that basketball items have become popular or in demand. This is just fascinating.

“I know that my family has gotten the items that they want over the years. I get sort of self-conscious. I don’t want my home to look like a tribute to Bob Dandridge. As you get older, you began to downsize. I’m hoping there is a fan out there that will value those items and hold onto them. That would be a way of sharing some of my career with someone else.”

The one item Bob Dandridge won’t give up

Dandridge has one possession he never plans to part with. He worked too hard to earn it, and when he finally did, he believes it best tells his story. 

It’s the Hall of Fame ring he was given during his induction. You can have anything else you want. That one is for him.

The championship ring with the Bucks meant a lot. So did the one with the Bullets.

“But what more can I say about my career than the possession of my Hall of Fame ring?” Dandridge said.

Dandridge is not a jewelry guy and doesn’t like to be too flashy. He estimated he wore his championship rings a total of 25 times his entire life.

His family has encouraged him to wear his Hall of Fame ring, even if he sometimes forgets to put it on when leaving the house to attend a league function or appearance.

“More and more, I saw it with Rick Barry, I saw him with his Golden State championship ring on,” Dandridge said. “He was wearing that thing very proudly. So, I have started to wear my Hall of Fame ring more often.”

Dandridge had to wait longer than some thought to be elected, a wait that finally ended when he received a four-way phone call in May 2021. Former Bucks general manager Wayne Embry was one of the men to help share the news he had been elected.

He was presented by former Bucks teammate Oscar Robertson at the ceremony that September.

Dandridge was a distinguished selection of the Veteran’s Committee, which requires a player be retired for 35 or more years.

The 6-foot-6 small forward was drafted by the Bucks in the fourth round in 1969 and averaged 18.5 points, 6.8 rebounds and 3.4 assists during a 13-year career that included nine seasons with Milwaukee and four with Washington.

Dandridge was a four-time All-Star and scored more points in the NBA Finals during the 1970s (450) than any player in the league. 

One decade followed another without Dandridge being enshrined. It would have been easy to give up hope. He never did.

“When I played, I was sort of outspoken, so I felt I was being punished,” Dandridge said. “Back during that era, you could easily get labeled. It was during the Civil Rights era, and a Black guy, especially if you were an athlete, was supposed to stay in his place.”

Although he remained optimistic, he still was stunned when it happened. It was a surreal moment, especially because he wasn’t waiting for his phone to ring that day.

“You know what? Three years later, I’m still basking in the joy and the privilege it is to be a Hall of Famer,” Dandridge said.

He received another phone call soon after he was elected. This one was from former Buffalo Bills great Bruce Smith, who is a golfing buddy with Dandridge in Virginia.

Smith told Dandridge he had to teach him how to be a Hall of Famer.

Dandridge changed some things from that moment forward. When he signed an autograph, he was told to make sure to inscribe H.O.F. with it to signify his place in the Hall of Fame.

When he tried it for the first time, it wasn’t for a fan on a basketball or jersey.

He instead practiced by doodling like a kid learning how to write, figuring out if the H.O.F. should be before his first name or after his last.

He decided it should be after his last, and every time he writes it now, it’s a great reminder of the day he was immortalized. 

“I can’t explain it, because the feeling keeps getting better and better,” Dandridge said. “I don’t think I will realize the full magnitude of it. But I know it has, for me, being a Hall of Famer carried a certain amount of responsibility. 

“It’s more than just a basketball player. Having to wait wasn’t bad. It allowed me to clean up some of my personal faults. It gave me an opportunity to work on myself, so when the time came, I would have a brightness and a glow and no animosity against anybody. That’s the way God works. I just had to be patient.”