The Final Four of Zaragoza in 1995 had one name. That of Arvydas Sabonis! As for me? I wasn’t there. But I feel as though I walked the streets of the capital of Aragon, even though I know the best i could do was to turn up the volume on the television.

And yet, strangely, I remember...

The Reds' quest continues .... Antreas continues his FFF series so lets roll back the years once more. Here is how the F4 story continued to unfold...

I remember Olympiacos and Panathinaikos arriving in Spain again with dreams, two teams that took time to come together as a group. Panathinaikos on one hand due to the clash between Galis and Politis, which led Nikos to retire from basketball and Politis to be dismissed and replaced by Efthimis Kioumourtzoglou. Olympiacos, on the other hand, because of the shocking departure -during the previous summer- of their three-year-long leader, Zarko Paspalj.

Zarko, wanting to prove he wasn’t finished, wore the green jersey, while Sasha Volkov went in the opposite direction, trying on the red-and-white. In Paspalj’s place, Ioannidis opted for an NBA veteran and great shooter in Eddie Johnson.

There were, of course, the other two contenders: Limoges, who barely re-assembled the team that gave us the huge surprise in 1993, and Real Madrid under Obradovic, Arlauckas, and last but not least, Arvydas Sabonis in his final performances on European courts before crossing the Atlantic to where he always belonged: the NBA.

In that first semifinal, Real struck the French with the same tactic they had used two years earlier in the Final Four semifinal in Athens: tough defense and feeding the ball to Sabonis on offense. The result? A win for Madrid with a tough score of 62–49, and Limoges setting a negative scoring record in a Final Four game.

In the Greek semifinal, things started better for Panathinaikos. Giannakis defended Johnson effectively, preventing him from finding his killer rhythm. Paspalj and Oikonomou helped offensively, and Vranković dominated in the air, while being cautious with his fouls. But in the 25th minute, "The Dragon" (Giannakis) got injured, and Alvertis took over marking Eddie. That was it... The American went off and after going 0/4 from three in the first half, he hit four in a row, with Alvertis’ hand right in his face, finishing the game with 27 points and leading the reds to the final. The dagger came with another three-pointer, this time from Milan Tomić, making it 52–56 for Olympiacos. In the minute that remained, Panathinaikos tried hard but failed to equalize. Olympiacos won 52–58, giving Ioannidis another chance at the trophy he’d been chasing in what seemed an eternity, since 1988.

But unfortunately for the reds, as I warned at the beginning, the Champions Cup trophy had Sabonis’ name engraved on it. The Lithuanian giant with the clay feet often reminded us, during the final, of the player once called “Nature’s Miracle.” Yes, he was 31, heavier, and slower. But his basketball IQ remained sharp, his quality unmatched and more than enough to seem invincible, even once pitted against the formidable frontline of Olympiakos featuring Tarlac and Fasoulas.

Olympiacos again pinned their hopes on Johnson. But Obradovic, just like in 1992 with Dragutinović and Riva, pulled off his Istanbul trick again. The name of the defensive terminator this time was Ismael Santos. The young Spaniard chased Eddie all over the court, his tight defense frustrating him. Johnson wore down eventually and missed even shots considered easy for his elit level of shooting. With just 9 points from their top scorer, Olympiacos had little hope. Sigalas and Nakic tried to fill the scoring gap in part and combined for 23 points, but Sabas and Arlauckas dominated the paint against the Reds. Sabonis scored 23 points, Antúnez organized the game flawlessly for the "Queen," and so, with a dunk by Cargol on the fast break, Real won 73–61 and returned to the European throne, they had last sat on in 1980.

Sabonis in his last European show in Zaragoza was like a legend straight out of childhood fairy tales. A wounded giant, still inspiring fear to all opponents and showcasing an unmatched level of skill and basketball IQ. Shortly after, Arvydas flew to Portland, leaving us with the eternal question of what could have been if he hadn’t torn his Achilles tendon in 1986.

The greatest “what if” in the history of European basketball...