Dennis Johnson's Celtics provided me with my first memorable NBA memory. The stolen pass at the end of regulation, that sweet steal and layup, that solidified my love for the NBA.
Actually...
My first NBA memory was my Dad taking me to a Spurs game. I remember sitting in the old Convention Center arena, looking up at the rafters and watching all the basic trainee's in their blues. And watching a Cleveland Cavs game, and wondering, who the hell is this guy called "World B Free."