LOS ANGELES—The math is easy for Bryon Russell right now, with a total that soars past 10,000. Has to. Easily.

And at that rate, if Russell had a hundred bucks for every time someone he doesn’t know walks up to him and says that Michael Jordan pushed him, he would have, well, you do the math.

“More than that, probably,’’ Russell said Friday by phone from his home in the San Fernando Valley.

An estimate of 10,000 casual anythings might seem Chamberlain-esque in proportions, but when you’re 6-foot-7, still in playing shape and a veteran of back-to-back appearances in the NBA Finals, basketball’s grandest stage, it surely is possible. Heck, Russell estimates that he has watched video of the famous-slash-notorious play a thousand times himself. No great stretch to imagine two or three excited, sympathetic or even teasing fans per day, on average, bringing up to him the most memorable moment of Russell’s career, when Jordan soared again using the former Jazz swingman as his take-off board.

It has been 10 years, after all.

“Those who remember, yeah, it’s always like, ‘Man, that was a push-off, man,’ ‘’ Russell said. “It was what it was. You get that, a few people who say, ‘Why didn’t you stop him?’ I say, ‘Why didn’t anybody stop him [ever]?’ ‘’

It was 10 years ago—June 14, 1998—that Jordan got the ball for the Bulls’ final possession in Game 6 of the Finals in Salt Lake City. His team down 86-85, Jordan takes his time, isolating out top with Russell crouched, staying in front of him, at one point reaching at the ball. As His Airness drives right, he flashes out his left arm and makes contact with Russell’s thigh, with the backpedaling Jazz defender slipping to the floor. That gives Jordan all the separation he needs to launch a 20-foot jump shot, and as time seems to stand still, Jordan literally does so, his right arm raised, his wrist flexed in a follow-through pose that punctuates the moment, the game, the championship series and, from the look of it at that time, the man’s legendary career.

It has been 10 years, but even without highlight DVDs, ESPN Classic or YouTube, it doesn’t take much effort for those who saw it once to see it again and again in their minds. Besides, what’s 10 years anyway? If you’re like me, you still wear stuff you owned 10 years ago and quite likely ingest and imbibe other stuff that has been sitting on a kitchen shelf since then.

Unfortunately, this no longer is mere fodder for barstool debates. Against a backdrop of shamed referee Tim Donaghy’s most recent allegations about the NBA and its officiating, and skepticism that tipped even further toward cynicism this week, there could be something more dark and treacherous about The Shot and The Pose, all because of The Whistle That Never Blew.

Russell has been paying attention. He stuck with Game 4 on Thursday night all the way from Lakers blowout to Celtics stirring comeback. He has read and seen the headlines about Donaghy, refs allegedly toting agendas and the league’s current crisis of credibility.

He wasn’t ready to pile on. Not then, not 10 years hence.

“The way I see it, it’s history,’’ Russell said. “An unbelievable play. A great shot. I put judgment into the hands of those who see it and really understand the game. I don’t really question it.

“I thought I played the best defense I could have played on him. He got the shot up. Whether I slipped or they just missed the call, I thought I put myself in a great position to stop him. I give credit where credit is due. I think I played him [in those two Bulls-Jazz series] better than anybody who ever played him in the Finals.’’

It’s not as if people, beyond maybe a few Delta Center diehards from back then, blame Russell. They blame Jordan for the offensive foul. Or they blame the refs for the no-call. Russell, he just did his job.

“What was there to do, except stay at home [on defense]?’’ he said, words that Sasha Vujacic might want to remember as he sees the Ray Allen blow-by from Thursday’s Game 4 replayed countless times into the future.

The referees in that 1998 Game 6—Dick Bavetta, Hue Hollins, Danny Crawford—already were on edge by the time Jordan sized up Russell. Earlier, a three-pointer by Utah’s Howard Eisley that replays showed had beat the buzzer was waved off. A similar shot by Chicago’s Ron Harper that looked late was allowed. The conspiracy buffs were frothing and, given Jordan’s importance to the league’s coffers, there were a few wisecracks as the game played out about an “as scripted by NBA commissioner David Stern’’ line in NBC’s series-wrapping credits.

Russell’s take? “They should put in instant replay, like football,’’ he said. “If they had that in there then, we could have counted Howard Eisley’s shot. That one was clear as day. And the one that Ron Harper hit was after the buzzer. But I don’t like to pass judgment on anybody.’’

Ten years in, in a bigger picture way, Russell’s story has a happy ending: He spent nine years with the Jazz and more than 12 overall in the NBA. His best season was 1999-2000, when he averaged 14.1 points, 5.2 rebounds and 1.6 steals. He signed as a free agent with Washington for 2002-03—when Jordan was back, running the Wizards on and unofficially off the court, a signing that Russell takes as a validation of sorts.

The product of Long Beach State played on the 2003-04 Lakers team that reached the Finals, then wrapped up with one-plus season in Denver. These days, he has lent his name to the Long Beach Breakers of a reinvented American Basketball Association ("I’m just having a little fun, staying in shape’’). Eventually, he would like to land a game analyst position or, better yet, an assistant coaching job. In the meantime, he and his wife, Kim, are raising a 12-year-old and twin 9-year-olds at home in Calabasas, Calif.

“I have a lot to offer,’’ Russell said. “I know how to win, I know how to play defense, I definitely know how to shoot the ball and I know the X’s and O’s.’’

He might not know how to work the referees, in requisite coaching fashion, given what little fuss he made at the time of Jordan’s, let’s call it, gamesmanship. Has Russell ever looked back and wished he had pleaded his case?

“Would it have made a difference?’’ he asked right back. “No. But it felt good when most of them [NBA refs] told me the next year, ‘I would have called that a foul.’ ‘’

The next sound you hear is the palm of Stern’s hand, slapping up against his forehead, in a “Doh!’’ moment the league doesn’t particularly need right now. It has been 10 years, after all.

Steve Aschburner covered the Minnesota Timberwolves and the NBA for 13 seasons for the Minneapolis Star Tribune. He has served as president or vice president of the Professional Basketball Writers Association since 2005. His new book, The Good, the Bad & the Ugly: Minnesota Twins, can be ordered here.