Yes, that is the name of a person, but for the past 10 years, I've thought of him more as one of the many representations of my childhood than as an actual human who played in the National Basketball Association. Non-humans fall into this category, too, from NBA Jam: Tournament Edition to Sports Illustrated for Kids to GameDay '98 to Eastbay, Inside Stuff to Beckett's Price Guide and Rock N' Jock, but there's something about those players, and what they stood for on and off the court, that still carries so much weight even if you haven't the slightest clue if they made it through Y2K.
Up until three days ago, Cedric Ceballos was nothing more than an obscure reference, a distant athletic memory, and a basketball card alphabetically placed in a plastic sleeve somewhere between Kelvin Cato and Tom Chambers.
Not having the slightest clue what this was, I scrolled down. And that was the moment when my week officially became a wash.
A 10-minute phone call with Cedric Ceballos, one in which someone was expected to shell out $99? What?
The website is Thuzio.com, and on the surface it's a service for people to pay for experiences involving an athlete of their choosing. Cofounded by retired Giants running back Tiki Barber, it seems to be a nostalgia junkie's dream.