Breakfast with Neto: Bobby “Slick” Leonard, Part 1

I’ve known Bob Netolicky for well over 25 years now. Neto has a reputation as one of the greatest “flakes” in pro basketball history. In fact, he routinely turns up in the top 5 of sportswriters in charge of tabulating such lists to this day, pretty impressive when you consider the flakes (cough, cough…Dennis Rodman, Darryl Dawkins, Metta World Peace) that have come along since Neto stopped playing in 1976. However, if that reputation is your only takeaway from the former ABA Indiana Pacers swingman (1967 to 1976), then you don’t know Neto. Indianapolis car dealer Gary Pedigo once told me (about Bob), “He is one of the most honest and big-hearted men I’ve ever known, if he ever told a lie, his tongue would fall off.” And he was right.
Neto was born in San Francisco during World War II but grew up in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He graduated from Drake University in 1967, was drafted by the NBA San Diego Rockets but signed with Indiana as an “original” ABA Pacer. His Pacers stats are Naismith Hall of Famish (16 ppg/9 rpg/4 All-Star games/2 Championships/2 All-League teams) and his pop culture reputation from his playing days in the Circle City rank him as the pro basketball equivalent of Broadway Joe Namath; remember Neto’s in the Meadows? And like many of the old Pacers, until a recent move to Austin, Texas to spend time with his daughter and grandkids, Neto called the Circle City home for decades once his playing days came to a close.
In all of the years I’ve known him, I know of three men in his life that, whenever they were around him, physically or mentally, would elicit a smile and the utmost respect from Bob Netolicky. His father, Dr. Robert Netolicky, was a general surgeon whose patients flew in from all over the country especially to see him. Dr. Netolicky was known for his surgical precision and speed, both of which were particularly appreciated by members of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, who believe that the Bible prohibits Christians from accepting blood transfusions. According to Neto, “Dad could have them out of surgery in fifteen minutes when other doctors took an hour or more to perform the same procedure.” Simple — less time on the operating table meant less blood loss.
Dr. Netolicky died in 1988 at the age of 81. Neto often shared stories with me about how his father treated neighbors with no means to pay as respectfully as those more affluent jet setters who landed on his doorstep. “They would bring him chickens, eggs, butter, whatever they had because they had no money,” Bob said. Neto keeps a photo of his father on his office desk to this day.
Dick Tinkham, one of the original founders of the ABA Pacers in 1967, former ABA Board of Trustees President, and subject of past columns, is another example. Dick, Neto and I organized and hosted the ABA 30 year reunion in the old Hoosier Dome back in 1997. The same trio came together again for the 50th anniversary fan fest event at Butler’s Hinkle Fieldhouse in 2018 and for the official book release of Neto & Tinkham’s (and journalist Robin Miller) book We Changed the Game gala at the Irving Theatre in Irvington on March 18 of the same year. Dick and Neto’s relationship lasted 60 years (the ABA didn’t even make 10) and the two men were as close as family for the entire time.
Tinkham passed on October 14th, 2018 and, as fate would have it, I was again in the Irving Theatre when I got the call from Neto telling me of Dick’s passing. “We lost him last night,” Neto said. “But ya know, at least we got his story out and he was here to see it.” Dick always called Neto “24”, every time he addressed him or spoke about him. Of course 24 was Neto’s number for the Pacers. And, for the life of me, I have no idea why #24 is not hanging from the rafters at Bankers Life Fieldhouse today. But that’s another story.
But, of all the people I have watched Neto interact with, his relationship with Bobby “Slick” Leonard was the tops. From my perspective, it was as close to a father and son relationship as I have ever seen. Coach Leonard never called him Neto, always “Bobby” and Neto always called the Hall of Famer “Slick.” Bobby Leonard’s exploits are well known by all Hoosier basketball fans. He was a winner at every level of the game of basketball. If there were a Mount Rushmore of Hoosier Basketball, it would likely be Oscar Robertson, John Wooden, Larry Bird and Slick Leonard. Perhaps more importantly, Slick Leonard had all of those legends beat when it came to being a Hoosier. Slick treated the casual fan as equally as he did a captain of industry. He always had time for a picture and an autograph. But when it came to Slick and Neto, the laughter was contagious, the blushing uncontrolled and the stories unchallenged. Slick would end those stories the same way every time, “Ohhhhhhhh, Bobby.”
Bob called Slick Sunday night (April 11) and told Neto that he was on some new antibiotics but still felt lousy. “I told him it was nothing a quart of vodka wouldn’t fix,” Neto said. “We had a good long laugh after that one.” Slick died two days later on Tuesday, April 13, 2021, at the age of 88. Coach Leonard’s wife Nancy talked to Bob that Tuesday, telling Neto, “He’s gone, last night he went to sleep on my shoulder and he never woke up.” At the moment of this writing, funeral arrangements are still pending. Bob informed me that a small private service for Slick’s closest friends and family will be held, followed by a wake at Slick’s favorite watering hole, Dooley O’Tooles in Carmel.
“You know we have to do that. Slick wouldn’t want it any other way.” said Neto. “Slick was special, he took a bunch of kids and turned us into a family.” Neto paused for a moment and laughingly stated, “Well, maybe I was a stepson, but family nonetheless.” Afterwards, Slick is to be interred among family in South Bend. Neto, arguably the quickest wit and best soundbite man the ABA ever produced, then closed by saying, “I know one thing, when Slick gets up there, Roger (Brown) and Mel (Daniels) are gonna be mad because Slick will make them run baselines ‘til they puke.”

Al Hunter is the author of the “Haunted Indianapolis” and co-author of the “Haunted Irvington” and “Indiana National Road” book series. His newest books are “Bumps in the Night. Stories from the Weekly View,” “Irvington Haunts. The Tour Guide,” and “The Mystery of the H.H. Holmes Collection.” Contact Al directly at Huntvault@aol.com or become a friend on Facebook.