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May 20^th, 1974

v.s. Milwaukee Bucks: A Matter Of Celtic Pride

After five years, Boston again has a winner. The ingredients that beat Milwaukee in seven games are the same: a lot of tradition, plus gutty men like John Havlicek

Peter Carry

John Havlicek, a vintage blend of sweat and pink champagne dripping from his hair, leaned against the green chalkboard in the Celtics' locker room after their seventh-game 102-87 victory over the Bucks and beamed that squiggly Charles Schulz grin of his. He had reason to be doubly happy: the NBA championship trophy was on its way back to Boston, where it always seemed to him to have belonged. And for the first time in all his many title-winning years, Havlicek, the Most Valuable Player in this series, was clearly the man most responsible for bringing the title home. Even in the final game, when his points totaled just 16, the Bucks' concentration on him allowed other Celtics—particularly Center Dave Cowens, who scored 28 points—to shoot freely off a revised Boston offense that had been diagrammed on that same chalkboard only hours before. It is an indication of how far these Celtics have come that they could look away from Havlicek and still win. And it is a mark of Havlicek and the old Celtic traditions he so thoroughly embodies that he loved every minute of it.

In winning its 12th championship and its first since Bill Russell retired in 1969, Boston had to weather three strong comebacks by Milwaukee. The Celtics won the opener, then the Bucks tied the series. Boston pulled ahead 2-1 only to have the Bucks make it 2-2. In the fifth game Boston edged in front once more with a 96-87 victory that seemed certain to take the suds out of Milwaukee. But strange forces were working in this playoff—after one hectic Celtic rally Kareem Abdul-Jabbar wondered aloud if he hadn't seen the ghost of that old Celtic clutch shooter Sam Jones loose once more on the Boston Garden floor. Neither team was able to win two games in a row, and, almost unbelievably, neither was able to win more than one on its own court—and so much for home-court-advantage theorists.

The memorable sixth game in Boston may have been the most dramatic playoff contest since the Celtics went four overtimes against Syracuse in 1953. The Bucks quickly got Dave Cowens into foul trouble, forcing him to the bench for 14 minutes of the opening half, and took an early 12-point lead. They maintained their edge until, with 1:05 left in regulation time, Cowens hit his only long shot of the night to tie the score at 86. It was then that the specter of Sam Jones—or something rather odd—made its presence felt. Before the fourth quarter ended, 6'9" Cowens managed to force 6'5" Oscar Robertson into a 24-second violation.

Nobody but nobody did that sort of thing to Oscar in the series, notwithstanding his 35 years. The two overtimes that followed included 12 lead changes and two ties. The first extra period ended with a game-saving steal by Boston Guard Don Chaney and a game-tying rebound of his own miss by Havlicek. "The best defense I've ever seen by two teams at the same time," said Havlicek of that bit of the war. The defense, as Milwaukee and Boston played it throughout the series, was indeed the very best. While the Celtics' press received more notice, it was actually the Bucks that were more unyielding. Milwaukee held Boston, which scored 109 points per game in the regular season, under 100 five times, and in one 100-point game the Celtics needed two overtimes to surpass that figure.

The scoring opened up in the second overtime with the Celtics bursting for 11 points, nine of them by Havlicek. His last two apparently gave Boston the title with seven seconds left. As the Celtic bench yelled hysterically for their teammates to call time, John calmly swished a jumper from the right baseline. One time-out and four seconds of playing time later, Abdul-Jabbar, who wasn't meant to take the shot, took the game right back for the Bucks with a perfect 15-foot hook from the right of the basket. The clock read 0:03 as the ball dropped through the net to give Milwaukee its 102-101 win.

The victory in the seventh game was an extraordinarily proud moment in the history of this extraordinary Boston franchise. It took Red Auerbach only five years to draft and trade his way to another title, and season by season there had been a careful effort to keep the old traditions of the team alive. The phrase CELTIC PRIDE appears on bumper stickers all over Boston.

One frequently hears club officials use it. Two Celtics above all are entitled to feel it—Havlicek and Chaney. In very different ways, both are products of the attitudes that have made the Celtics far and away pro basketball's most successful team.

When he joined the Celtics six years ago, Chaney hit more opponents than shots. In his first three seasons his shooting average was 38%, roughly the same as the percentage of time he spent on the bench in foul trouble. His presence in the starting lineup was cited by one Boston columnist as evidence of how far the Celtics' fortunes had fallen. Few other teams would have kept a player of Chaney's failings, but Chaney stuck. He became a fair shooter and an exceptional defender. Against the Bucks he spearheaded Boston's press and was the man most often asked to speed the ball upfloor in hopes of catching the Milwaukee defense before it could dig in. In his spare moments he covered Robertson closer than wallpaper.

Playing to the edge of exhaustion is the part of the old Boston style that Havlicek made famous. Indeed, although John has become a tradition himself at age 34, this was, in a way, his first title. He had played on an NCAA championship team at Ohio State and on six earlier Celtic winners, but invariably he had been overshadowed by bigger names—Jerry Lucas in college and Russell in Boston. Havlicek never became a full-time Celtic starter until the team finally went bad and could no longer wait for him to come off the bench to run opponents into the boards. But he is a patient man, and when his time came he was the key, hitting long shots in traffic and playing tough defense, crouched low and ready, long after other players would be bushed and ineffectual.

"When things are swinging easy we all get in the flow of it, and sometimes then it almost looks like we ignore John," says Forward Paul Silas, whose arrival from Phoenix in one of those deft Auerbach deals completed the roster Boston needed to win the title. "But when things don't go well, we look to him all the time to make the tough play. We probably do it too much.

Sometimes I'll have an open shot and still pass to him even though he's farther out and two guys are on him. We do this instinctively because he has usually been the guy who's turned bad moments into good ones for us."

In the end it was Havlicek's teammates who were able to turn the trick. Looking at movies of the previous games, Coach Tommy Heinsohn saw that the Bucks had increasingly concentrated their defense on stopping Havlicek. In a pregame meeting before what had to be the last game, Heinsohn took chalk in hand and plotted some new wrinkles. Other Celtics were sent wheeling into the middle instead of Havlicek coming over picks on the outside. Handling the ball far from the basket to keep the lane free of Abdul-Jabbar, Cowens' part was to set up his teammates as they cut toward the hoop. He added some sparkling outside shooting. While the Celtics built a 53-40 halftime lead he hit six of nine long jumpers.

Then when tight Milwaukee defense in the second half shut out Boston for 4:38 and cut its lead to five points, Cowens swiped a maneuver from Abdul-Jabbar's repertoire. He drove across the lane and swished in a hook. The Bucks never again came closer than five points. And fittingly John Havlicek locked up the victory with a driving three-point play—past Abdul-Jabbar, right down the middle and into history again.

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June 14^th, 1976

v.s. Phoenix Suns: Call Them Champs Again

After winning an incredible three-overtime game at home, the Celtics went out to Phoenix and polished off the Sunderellas to take their 13th NBA title

Barry McDermott

The Boston Celtics finally did it last Sunday. They pulled down the curtain on basketball's longest season by making the Suns set and winning the National Basketball Association's championship series 4 games to 2.

Exactly seven months and 13 days after the first tip-off of the campaign, Boston adjusted its defense, ironed the wrinkles out of its offense and defeated Phoenix 87-80 on the latter's home court, the Veterans Memorial Coliseum.

It was Boston's 13th NBA championship and no matter how often the Celtics hear the music it's still a grand old song. Said team captain John Havlicek, sipping from a bottle of champagne, "It never gets old. It only gets old if you lose."

But, in a sense, the Suns won, too. They distinguished themselves, extending the Celtics to six games in a series that started out as a rout and wound up the next thing to a barn-burner. However, on Sunday, Phoenix dipped into its spring of emotion and pulled up a bucket of desert sand. The well that had sustained the Suns had finally run dry. "We were no fairy tale," said Phoenix' Curtis Perry. "We were for real."

The city of Phoenix was ready for Game 6, psyched after the memorable three-overtime fifth game in Boston Friday night when the Celtic fans put on what resembled an anti-busing demonstration. The Suns had been beaten, but the game was so exciting that two fans watching the game on television back in Phoenix wound up being taken to the hospital. One jumped up and hit his head on a chandelier, and when his next-door neighbor went to help him, he tripped and fell.

The Celtics, who had lost Games 3 and 4 at Phoenix, were ready for the sixth game, too. Boston played it cool and efficient, though finding it difficult to operate with its fingers in its ears against the home-court din. The first quarter ended at 20-20; the half with Boston up by five at 38-33. By the opening of the fourth quarter, Phoenix had toughed it back to 57-56.

The Celtics used their switching defense to stop Garfield Heard and Perry inside and got their running game cranked up. Yet the score was tied (for the 12th time) at 66-all, with a little under eight minutes to go, before airtight Boston defense finally produced a Phoenix vacuum. For almost the next seven minutes the Suns did not score a field goal and by then Boston had a 10-point lead and the corkscrews in the champagne.

The winners used textbook basketball down the stretch, scoring almost every time they handled the ball, the big play being a Dave Cowens steal from Alvan Adams that resulted in a three-pointer. That was the beginning of the end to a series that had more than its share of highlights.

For example, the incredible fifth game in the raucous Boston Garden on Friday could be used as a training film for the National Guard—or donated to the Basketball Hall of Fame. It had three overtimes (first time ever in an NBA championship series), classic heart-stopping moments and a near riot caused by a group of fans who would have cheered the Boston Strangler. Afterward, Phoenix General Manager Jerry Colangelo all but suggested that the Suns needed either additional police guards, or machine guns to protect themselves.

"I'm glad you told me," said Boston General Manager Red Auerbach blandly when he was told of Colangelo's remarks, patting the pocket where he kept the stat sheets of the 128-126 victory.

Besides having to suffer an agonizing defeat, the Suns had to endure the attentions of a mob of sloshed crazies. Referee Richie Powers was assaulted by one extremist. Suns Ricky Sobers and Dennis Awtrey were ready to rumble. A courtside table was picked up and hurled into the air. A basket support was almost toppled over. And the elderly and woefully undermanned Garden security force stood virtually helpless as hundreds of snorting fans stormed the floor at the close of the second overtime, believing that the game had ended and that their beloved Celtics had won. In fact, a full, fateful second remained.

The scene, when play finally resumed, was not encouraging for Phoenix. "It's a fortunate thing that one of the players did not wind up with a broken leg or a broken arm," said an angry John MacLeod. The Phoenix coach had had to spend half of each time-out weeding Celtic fans out of the Phoenix huddles, and he harbored a suspicion that the chaos had intimidated his team in a way the Celtics could not. The Suns began the third overtime cautiously, as if they expected the worst from the crowd. "You never know," said Phoenix' Dick Van Arsdale. "Some crazy fan is liable to come at you with a gun."

"If some fan hits me on the court, he's in trouble," said the 6'10" Awtrey, the Suns' substitute center. "That's our territory. We can't go in their territory. They can't come in ours."

The disorder marred a game that should be remembered and savored like a crystal glass of vintage wine. It was so exciting that a dehydrated, haggard Coach Tom Heinsohn staggered into the Boston locker room and almost fainted.

The epic began to unfold with the Suns down 32-12 after nine minutes. Their best play until then had been the time-out. But MacLeod had taken a diverse group of veterans—some of them castoffs—and rookies, and molded a tough team. Patiently they chipped away, good poker players waiting out a run of doleful luck, systematically running their clockwork offense.

Meanwhile, the Celtics were being forced to shoot from so far outside that they required downrange tracking; in the last half they scored only 34 points. Both teams had opportunities to win the game near the end of regulation but Perry and Havlicek each blew free throws. For that they should be thanked. The score remained 95-95 and what took place thereafter opened clogged arteries from coast to coast.

The first overtime merely caused television sets to smoke, ending at 101-101. The second overtime was the thriller. Fifteen seconds from the end the Celtics had a three-point lead and the fans were chanting "We're No. 1," though it might as well have been "Jo-Jo-White," so spectacular had been the Celtic guard. Then Van Arsdale scored and Paul Westphal stole the ball from Havlicek, giving Perry a 15-foot jump shot. He rebounded his miss, took another jumper which hit to put Phoenix ahead 110-109.

The Celtics ran a play for Havlicek. Hondo had last scored way back at the end of regulation, and since then had been practicing the 20-foot curve ball jumper. But now Havlicek put down his shoulder, drove down the left side past a wary Ricky Sobers and banged one in off the backboard from 15 feet out—111-110. Instant hysteria. The fans took over the floor. The problem, as Referee Powers eventually made clear, was that there was still one second to play.

In the ensuing confusion, Westphal came up with an ingenious idea. The Suns were to get the ball at the endline with one second and no chance at all. So when the floor had been cleared, Westphal called a time-out, which was illegal since Phoenix had no time-outs left. White therefore got to shoot a technical, which put Boston up 112-110. But the Suns had the ball at midcourt. They got it in to Garfield Heard who launched a jumper that brushed the ceiling and swished. And it was time for overtime No. 3.

For much of the series, the Boston backcourt had been inconsistent. While Charlie Scott blasted away with the accuracy of a sawed-off shotgun, and reserve Kevin Stacom skated on melting ice under Heinsohn's heated gaze, only White, who later was voted the series' MVP, had held things together. But even Jo Jo could not finish off the Suns. In this third overtime it remained for reserve Glenn McDonald—at the stroke of midnight—to accomplish that. Just as the digital clock in the arena jumped to 12:01, McDonald scored on a short jumper to give Boston a lead it held the rest of the way, hanging on to win 128-126. On this night, at least, Phoenix was indeed a team of Sunderellas.

They also were down 3-2 and riddled with injuries. Keith Erickson twisted his ankle early in Friday's game. Westphal's left knee was wrenched, and Awtrey was limping on a sore foot. Still, the Suns maintained their belligerence. "We know we're going to beat them," said Heard. "It's going to take seven now, but we're going to beat them. We showed we came to play."

"They earned their respect," Paul Silas acknowledged from the Boston dressing room.

Earlier in the week, the talk had been of retaliatory strikes. Boston had pushed Phoenix around in winning the first two games, and the Suns had complained long and loud. Then, in Game 3 the Suns showed some muscle of their own. "We're going to go down swinging," said Colangelo. Meanwhile, everyone was trying to figure out what exactly was meant by "tactile contact," which is permitted by NBA rules, and how to relate it to the bump-and-run tactics used by the Celtics.

The fourth game in Phoenix on Wednesday was slowed by fouls at the start. Officials Don Murphy and Manny Sokol called 21 penalties in the first 10 minutes and Heinsohn set a new record for footage on the isolated TV camera as he complained, mocked, stormed, gestured, feigned bewilderment and conducted classes in sideline theater of the absurd.

Still Boston hung close, down by two points with 1:34 to go before Sobers drove the middle and invented a shot that blasted off the backboard and through the net. When White missed a jumper near the buzzer, Phoenix had a 109-107 win. Afterward, Heinsohn said the game lacked only cheerleaders and acne. "It was high school," he roared.

"They cheat," said Charlie Scott. "If they don't want us to play, tell us to stay home."

Only Cowens and Havlicek offered voices of reason. Cowens said he was sick of the complaints about the refereeing. And Hondo pointed out the Celtics were not showing much intelligence. "How dumb can we be?" he asked. "They call fouls if you touch them and we get into a hand-slapping contest." Heinsohn's theatrics throughout the series came under close scrutiny as the media in Phoenix and Boston and points in between sneered at his flamboyant behavior and dissected his strategy, giving credence to the coach's belief that he was being persecuted—a feeling fostered, no doubt, by his having to look over Auerbach's head every time he turned around.

Meanwhile, the suave MacLeod was being hailed as the great innovator, as much for his tasteful suits and ties as for his prescience and an enlightened offense. Walking from the Boston Garden on Friday night, Westphal was told by Silas that Heinsohn was ill.

"Gee, I hope he's all right," said Westphal. "Our team needs him in there."

But Boston had obviously learned something from its mistakes. In Game 6 the Celtics used their feet instead of their hands on defense, and Heinsohn restrained himself on the sidelines. After all, he was a coach who had taken a team that lacked the old Celtic depth and put it on the road to the championship.

And the road that ended in Phoenix had sometimes seemed endless.

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June 7^th, 1976

v.s. Phoenix Suns: Suns Worship Back In Fashion

After two lackluster losses to the Celtics, Phoenix came home and put life in the NBA finals. The victory showed that rookie Alvan Adams could hang in there with the old folks when the pressure was on

Barry McDermott

The Phoenix Suns, those proponents of swimming pool living, the child center and the heartwarming comeback, began last week rooming with the Salvation Army in a Boston hotel and finished it with sunrise services in the desert. Along the way, they stopped playing a bad second fiddle and taught the Boston Celtics a bruising lesson. Where there is even a glimmer of Suns, it seems, there is hope.

Just when it appeared Phoenix was ready to concede the National Basketball Association championship to the Celtics, the Suns tagged Boston with a 105-98 Sunday morning defeat in the Veterans Memorial Coliseum that left Boston suddenly looking less than overwhelming.

Up until then, the Suntans had been playing as if they were afraid of the dark. Boston throttled Phoenix in the first two games in Beantown and threatened to become the second straight club to sweep the NBA finals. When Phoenix returned home for the third game, the welcoming rally staged for them had all the enthusiasm of a wake.

Ah, but these are the Suns, the stuff of which Hans Christian Andersen and Hollywood scripts are made. Phoenix was flat on the floor of the Pacific Division only a few months ago, then rose triumphantly. Compared to what the club had already been through, being down 2-0 to the Celtics was not all that bad. Phoenix newspapers spewed out reams of copy about the machinations and alleged illegal tactics of the Celtics, and the Suns vowed retribution.

What happened was that Phoenix reduced Boston's offense to the rushed 20-footer and a quick retreat back on defense. Boston went scoreless for almost the first five minutes of the second quarter and by then had only 17 points and trailed by 16.

A short time later the Suns' Ricky Sobers and the Celtics' Kevin Stacom put some punch into, the game. The rival guards exchanged a flurry of blows that ended with, both being ejected. The flare-up also indicated that the Suns believed they had taken enough from the Celtics. "We can't let them bully us," Sobers said later. "It was rough," added Dick Van Arsdale, "but that's how Boston likes to play. I almost got my head taken off one time."

But Boston is still Boston, a team going for its 13th NBA championship. Despite having everyone but the bus driver in foul trouble, plus an unseemly number of careless turnovers and some miserable shooting, the Celtics struggled up from 23 points down in the third quarter and found themselves back in the game but good, trailing by just two with three minutes to go.

Then Alvan Adams went to work. Adams is the Suns' 21-year-old hardship rookie who skipped his senior year at Oklahoma to torment rival centers with the smoothest style of pivot play since Johnny Kerr. He finished the day with a game-high 33 points, plus 14 rebounds and two assists. But what really drove the Phoenix folks wild was his heroics in the fourth quarter. In a space of 100 seconds Adams did things like score two baskets over two different Celtics, pass through them to give Paul Westphal an easy layin, tip in another Westphal miss and dribble the ball the length of the floor against the Boston press, which on this day was not nearly as effective as local print media. "The newspapers beat us," moaned Boston Coach Tom Heinsohn later. "I didn't know the power of the press was that big. We were lucky to run up and down the floor. That was hometown cooking. That's what that was."

All told, Charlie Scott and Dave Cowens fouled out of the game, Stacom was thrown out for fighting, and Boston incurred two technicals.

Throughout the week the Celtics had assumed the posture that the Suns' dream was about to come to its inevitable end. After the defeat, they still felt the same way. "We're still 2-1," said Cowens with a smirk. "I ain't worried. We'll get 'er. If we don't get 'er today, we'll get 'er tomorrow. That's what my old friend T. E. Doyle used to say back home."

Going into Game 3, the Celtics might have been excused for wondering if their opponents had been left on the doorstep with a note attached. For forwards the Suns had a pair of journeymen in Garfield Heard and Curtis Perry; the back-court consisted of Sobers, a rookie, and Westphal, a substitute with Boston for three years. And their center was a rookie. Although Adams was the league's Rookie of the Year, he didn't impress Cowens too much in the first two games. When asked what it was like facing Adams instead of Cleveland's Nate Thurmond, a Boston semifinal victim, Cowens said, "It was like having a wall removed."

Rookies in the playoff finals are as rare as clean forks in a cheap diner, and here Phoenix was with two of them as starters. The blithe Adams, however, commented that he could see only one difference about the playoffs. "They make the season longer," he said cheerfully.

That they do. "These games are like a bad joke," said Heinsohn. "You keep waiting for the punch line."

Waiting, in fact, has become a major aggravation in the playoffs, so strung out is the schedule because of the demands of television. But for Boston, at least, the gaps apparently had some therapeutic value. Two weeks ago John Havlicek could hardly walk on his sore left foot, but the lengthy intervals between games helped, and he played 40 minutes in the championship opener. He did not have to press. Phoenix shot only 38% from the floor in a game that Boston won 98-87 and was interesting mainly for its lack of passion. Said Boston's Paul Silas, "It felt more like January than May. It didn't seem like a playoff game."

The waiting around hadn't helped Phoenix at all. Left uncorked for a week, all the bubble had gone from the Suns' champagne. They were flat, emotionally spent after magically beating Golden State in the Western Conference finals and then having to wait for seven days until it was Sunday again—like little boys anticipating Christmas.

The Celtics' strategy was apparent: attack the inexperience. Scott was all over Sobers, and even if he kept fouling out of games—seemingly by halftime in the first two—his defense had the rookie thinking more about survival than what play to run. And Boston kept pressuring Adams. If it wasn't Cowens, then it was his backup, Jim Ard, who came into Game 2 and immediately began covering more ground than Chicken Little. "Sometimes he thinks he's Julius Erving," said teammate Jo Jo White.

For weeks, Heinsohn had been pounding on the pipes for more offense, but in Game 2—when they got around to playing it on Thursday night—the Celtics outscored Phoenix 20-2 during one stretch in the third quarter on the way to a 105-90 victory. After that the indelicate started talking "sweep."

Spiritually, the Celtics were in concert again. "This team is like a Swiss watch, a bunch of different parts working together," said White. "When one of our parts, like Havlicek, is out, we can't work." And the Suns were being worn down mentally. Their last win over Boston occurred on Christmas 1974, and they claimed Boston's block-and-tackle defense was one reason for the drought. "Every team cries about the same thing," sniffed White. "Look, if you let a team do all they want to do, they're going to crush you. But stop them, and they get mad."

White was guarding Westphal, his former teammate and a man who came into the series shooting 54% for the playoffs. Their rivalry goes back to the day when White first visited the Celtics' rookie camp to take a look at Westphal, who he figured was after his job. "I know his moves from the knock-down, drag-out practices we had," said White. "I know what bothers him and gets to him. When he gets mad, he wants to take you one-on-one, and that's what I want to get him into, to take them away from their team concept."

Westphal had a tepid opener and came out at the start of Game 2 determined to establish himself. He scored 17 points in the first half, but Phoenix still trailed, and during the third-quarter Boston blitz White stripped him of the ball and was on his way to an easy layup. Frustrated, Westphal tripped him. "He didn't apologize," White said later.

As it developed, one apology was issued. Suns' General Manager Jerry Colangelo gave it to the Phoenix area clergy for any inconvenience, and perhaps diminished collection, caused by the 10:30 a.m. tipoff on Sunday morning.

The apology was accepted. Even the ministers could see that the Suns were in need of redemption. And from somewhere they got it.

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May 18^th, 1992

v.s. Cleveland Cavaliers: To The Next Level

A dazzling Boston-Cleveland showdown got its biggest lift from Celtic Reggie Lewis

Jack McCallum

All season long the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Boston Celtics have been the drab garments hanging in the middle of the Eastern Conference closet, obscured by the red-and-black finery of the Chicago Bulls. The Cavs are the blue pin-striped suit, capable and impressive in their own way, but conservative and quiet and maybe lacking a little, well, presence. Despite a 57-25 record—tying Portland for second best in the league—Cleveland went almost unnoticed as the second-place finisher in the Michael and Scottie Division.

The Celtics, meanwhile, were the old-fashioned, green sport coat, the one worn by your junior high school science teacher, solid and familiar, but miles off the style track. As champion of the Atlantic Division, Boston received little attention for winning 16 of its last 18 regular-season games, including eight in a row without the injured Larry Bird.

But, suddenly, with the Bulls displaying a mysterious and severe case of vulnerability in their series against the New York Knicks, neither the Cavs nor the Celtics look so middle-of-the-closet anymore. Cleveland's 114-112 overtime victory on Sunday afternoon in Boston Garden tied, at 2-2, an all-ball-no-brawl playoff series that showcased two teams with the smarts and the stylistic balance to challenge the fancy red-and-black Bulls or, for that matter, the muscular black-and-blue Knicks.

"I dare you to find two smarter teams," said Cleveland coach Lenny Wilkens on Sunday, minutes after a rare victory in what has traditionally been a hellhole for the Cavs. "That doesn't mean we're the most athletic or even the best teams. But we know how to play the game." Yes, the Cavaliers and the Celtics had served up a game, like all the others in this series, that Dr. Naismith would have been proud of—no flagrant fouls, no finger-pointing, no woofing, no technicals, no elbows, no roundhouse rights.

Not everyone was in the mood to make such a glowing aesthetic evaluation, however, certainly not Celtics shooting guard Reggie Lewis, who has been the NBA's best postseason player. Lewis's 42 points went to waste on Sunday. Bird wouldn't have made that evaluation either. He returned to the lineup on Sunday after a five-week absence only to blow a game-tying shot in the final seconds of overtime.

Cleveland entered the playoff series with a franchise record of 9-47 on the parquet, including 0-5 in postseason play. Last Friday's Game 3 was a classic Garden nightmare for the Cavaliers. Led by point guard Mark Price's 27 points, 10 assists and only one turnover, they played a wonderful game and, with a six-point lead early in the fourth period, seemed ready to secure their first playoff victory in Boston. But Lewis had other ideas. He finished with 36 points, 26 in the second half, 11 in the final 5:30, and the Celtics escaped with a 110-107 victory and a 2-1 series lead. Said center Brad Daugherty in typical, understated Cavalier fashion: "He's a purty durned good shooter."

So durned good that, after the win, Lewis did his postgame interviews while sitting at the Table. As Celtics symbols go, the Table, located smack in the middle of their locker room, is nowhere near as well known as Red Auerbach's cigar, the parquet floor or the banners, but it is a symbol nevertheless, and Lewis's invitation to it represented somewhat of a rite of passage. In normal postgame situations, Bird, Kevin McHale and Robert Parish conduct their interviews at the Table. The rest of the Celtics either wait until the big three are finished at the Table or chat up the press wherever space is available. But after his performance on Friday, teammate Kevin Gamble suggested that Lewis be the first to hold court at the Table, particularly since Bird, who hadn't played, was already gone.

Eventually, McHale gave what has become the standard evaluation of Lewis: He has taken his game "to the next level." But to the Celtics the next level means that Lewis is not only ready, willing and able to take the big shot but also able to spot open teammates—he had seven assists in Game 3—when double-teamed. Said McHale, "He's getting very reminiscent of another guy we've had around here."

That other guy walked into the locker room about 90 minutes before Game 4 on Sunday morning. Coach Chris Ford gave almost no thought to starting Bird, as he almost certainly would have done if the Celtics had not finally figured out how to win without him. In fact, there was one quiet theory that Boston might be better off if Bird stayed out of uniform, but if any of the Celtics subscribed to it, they weren't making it public.

Over in the Cavalier locker room, meanwhile, Wilkens was making no special plans to counteract the emotional impact of Bird's return. "We put two plays that they run for Larry on the board," said Daugherty, "but other than that we didn't mention his name." Purty durned cool. Overemotionalism will never be the downfall of these Cavs.

In the early stages of Game 4, however, it seemed that Lewis, once again, would be—he scored 13 first-quarter points. Bird finally got off the bench early in the second period. He immediately found Lewis cutting across the middle for a hoop, then stepped back and hit a jumper, then gave McHale a gorgeous bounce pass for a basket off a pick-and-roll. Three buckets, three little bits of Bird magic. A lesser team might have wilted but not Cleveland.

The Celtics are pretty steadfast these days too, and they finally clawed back into the lead early in the fourth period. Boston expended a lot of energy in doing so, however, energy that Bird didn't appear to have: In 10 second-half minutes, he had two free throws, one assist and zero rebounds. Down the stretch and into the overtime, Ford alternated him with starter Ed Pinckney, Bird playing on offense, Pinckney on defense. Interestingly, in every clutch situation the Celtics went to Lewis, not to Bird. That included a jumper in the final seconds of regulation with the score tied 103-103. Lewis missed it—"Reggie got fouled, but they didn't have the nuts to call it," said Bird later—and the game went into overtime.

The difference in OT was the Cavs' Larry Nance, who squared up three times and swished jumpers that kept Cleveland on top. Nance, an accomplished mid-range jump shooter, finished with 32 points on 13-of-16 shooting. Still, like the careless schoolboy, the Cavs kept leaving the door open just a crack. And it was still open when, with 14.7 seconds left, Daugherty made only one of two free throws for a 114-112 Cavalier lead. Would the final Celtics shot go to Lewis, the rising star, or Bird, the fading one? No question. Bird handled the pass on the in-bounds play, but Ford screamed, "Get it to Reggie!" Bird eventually did, and Lewis drove to the basket. He pulled up when traffic grew congested and flicked a pass to Bird, cutting to the basket on the right side. It wasn't an easy layin, but it was one that, as Cleveland's Hot Rod Williams said, "he's made a thousand times before." This time he didn't.

And, So, the series returned to Cleveland for Game 5 on Wednesday night with Game 6 back at the Garden on Friday. The Cavs had regained the home court advantage, and they were feeling purty durned good.

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May 25^th, 1987

v.s. Milwaukee Bucks: Green And Mean

The champion Celtics outbattled Milwaukee in a seventh-game showdown to advance to the NBA Eastern final

Jack McCallum

The Boston Celtics limped into the Eastern Conference final for the fourth straight year Sunday afternoon, another day older and deeper in oxygen debt. They outlasted the Milwaukee Bucks in a grueling seven-game semifinal series only because a champion's heart beats beneath their bruised and groaning exterior. "I guess the old adage is true," said Kevin McHale. "The most dangerous bear is a wounded bear."

The Celts, vying to become (as the NBA liturgy goes) the first team to repeat since 1969, beat the Bucks 119-113 in a rousing Game 7 at the Boston Garden to go into the conference final against Detroit. They won it, as they won so many others this season, with a mixture of guile and guts supplied by the best starting five in basketball and with scant but timely help from the bench. And they won it because Robert Parish has more raw courage than anyone ever gave him credit for and because Larry Bird can shoot free throws a little.

With 5:52 left in Game 7, the Bucks led 108-100, and there seemed to be no way the Celtics could win. The mystique of Boston Garden? Milwaukee had shattered that in Game 5 with a 129-124 victory. The legendary cool of Bird down the stretch? In the second halves of Games 5 and 6, both Celtic losses, he had shot a combined 4 of 20 from the field, and here he was once again, clanging jump shots he usually makes in his sleep. The wily Celtic backcourt of Dennis Johnson and Danny Ainge? It was now a solo act, Ainge having been carried off to the dressing room in the third quarter with a sprained knee. Boston's legendary reserve strength? Puh-leeze. Milwaukee had a passel of clones at its disposal—tough, speedy, athletic—while Boston had what it has had all season, guys who didn't do much more than sit within reach of the Poland Spring watercooler.

Furthermore, Milwaukee was playing inspired ball, knowing that coach Don Nelson, currently embroiled in a feud with team owner Herb Kohl, was perhaps wearing his last fish tie on the Buck bench.

"Yes, it looked grim," said Celtic assistant coach Jimmy Rodgers. "Maybe a little grimmer than usual. But you've got to remember that we've been in these situations so many times before. That's when our experience, our character, takes over. That's the x factor."

And it proved to be X-rated for the Bucks. Over the next three minutes, Boston outscored Milwaukee 11 to 5, to creep within a basket at 113-111 as the Garden noise level maxed out. With 2:32 left, the Bucks' Paul Pressey, the best player in the game on this afternoon (with 28 points, 8 assists and 4 steals), collected his sixth foul when he grabbed Bird, who was carving out offensive position on the right side. Nelson saw a bad moon rising.

"The biggest point of the game was losing Pressey," Nelson said. Correct. The gangly Pressey was clearly Milwaukee's only real hope of defensing Bird, who, hot or cold, was going to take over this game in crunch time.

Though Bird's marksmanship from the field was shaky throughout (he finished 9-of-21, but 13-of-13 from the line), he swished both free throws to tie the game. On Boston's next possession, Bird posted up Ricky Pierce, drew the foul and buried two more for a 115-113 Boston lead. Then, with 1:31 left, he posted up Sidney Moncrief, spun away for a drive, drew a foul from Terry Cummings and drained two more free throws, just as if he were playing 21 back in French Lick. "Once I get to the line," said Bird, "I'm pretty comfortable."

Sixteen seconds later, Parish and Dennis Johnson combined on a play that both iced the game and crystallized the Celtics' intensity. Jack Sikma went up for a baseline shot and Parish jumped out at him. A badly sprained left ankle had kept the Chief out of Game 6 (a 121-111 Milwaukee victory), and his mobility was obviously limited on Sunday. "You could hear him groaning all the time," said Bucks' guard John Lucas, "but he didn't get the name Chief for nothing." Parish cleanly swatted away Sikma's shot, his fourth block of the game. Out of nowhere came Johnson, who tapped the ball off Sikma's leg while flying toward the Milwaukee bench. Celtics' ball. "DJ keeps you in the game even when you're out of the game," said Pressey, who had ducked out of Johnson's way. The ball landed in Bird's hands. And DJ landed—if you like your symbolism rough and sweaty—in Nelson's empty seat. Game, set and match, Boston.

The Bucks had done all they could, but in the end they were worn down by the worn-down. In the final 5:23, they scored but three points, all free throws, missing all nine of their shots from the floor; they were shut out in the last 3:30. Boston outrebounded Milwaukee 57-27 (including a season-high 25 offensive boards), blocked four more shots (8-4) and drilled five more free throws, including the six in a row that Bird made down the stretch, none of which touched anything but net.

But it was Johnson who may well have been the most important Celtic warrior, for it was he who handled the ball almost exclusively against the Milwaukee pressure in the final 16 minutes. Ainge's injury came as no surprise to the Celtics, who have seen the guardian angel that protected them from infirmity last season transmogrified into a snarling sadist. Only Bird and DJ have escaped the sadist's prod, which has touched McHale, Parish and now Ainge in the playoffs and Bill Walton throughout the season. And as far as the Celtic bench goes, rarely have so many contributed so little to so much.

By contrast, along last year's championship road, coach K.C. Jones frequently used the Green Team, Boston's name for its reserves, as a unit, playing either Bird or McHale with a foursome of Walton, Sichting, Scott Wedman and Rick Carlisle. So why is this year's Green Team a Rarely Seen Team? "I think that should be obvious," says Jones. "Look around." By around, he meant the mobile hospital ward that includes Walton and Wedman. Walton, who underwent arthroscopic surgery on his right ankle on Dec. 17, played in only 10 regular-season games, and Wedman played only 78 minutes—his career is in jeopardy due to repeated problems with his heel. "It's not crazy to think that, at age 34, it might be over," he says. Carlisle, uninjured, is currently on the outside looking in, a 13th man, cast off in favor of rookie Conner Henry.

There are those, however, who say Jones should have given players like Jerry Sichting, Fred Roberts and Darren Daye more playing time to prepare for playoff pressure. Jones, normally as unflappable as General Secord, is tired of hearing that argument. "We've made the best of a difficult situation," he says. In Jones's defense, the factor that made last year's Green Team mean was Walton, whose enthusiasm, rebounding, passing and defense were usually strong enough to overcome any deficiencies of the unit as a whole. "Not having experienced players like Bill and Scotty makes all the difference in the world," said Sichting. "It's much harder for the young players to adjust in limited playing time."

Indeed it has been. What does it mean when a coach has no confidence in his bench? It means that when Parish went down in a heap and came up limping, as he did late in Game 5, Jones didn't even pull him out to take a look at him. It means that, during a 14-3 run in the first six minutes of the fourth period that turned Game 6 in Milwaukee's favor, Jones made nary a momentum-stopping substitution. (A few times he looked longingly down his bench hoping, perhaps, to spot John Havlicek but seeing only Greg Kite; searching, possibly, for Frank Ramsey but finding only Sam Vincent.) It means that, as a unit, the bench is almost a nullity in the statistics columns. Though McHale, Parish and Ainge all missed significant playing time, Boston starters still got 80% of the total minutes, with 89% of the points, 84% of the rebounds and 85% of the assists in the seven games against Milwaukee. Those numbers were reminiscent of another team that reached the Eastern Finals almost entirely on the backs of a Fab Five—the 1969 New York Knicks, who went almost exclusively with a lineup of Willis Reed, Walt Frazier, Dave DeBusschere, Dick Barnett and Bill Bradley.

Herewith a capsule portrait of the Celtics' Sit-down Seven:

Bill Walton, center: The redhead played 76 minutes in five playoff games before reinjuring his right ankle in Game 2 of the Milwaukee series. He was back in Game 7, but played only one minute in the second quarter. His prospects for playing against Detroit? "I still have a lot of pain when I run," said Walton. Is that a definite no? "No, but it doesn't look real good."

Fred Roberts, forward: The versatile Mister Roberts did a creditable job this season, considering that his minutes came in a wildly oscillating pattern. "It's almost like you're not part of the team sometimes," said Roberts, who is known as Norm because his unusual appearance—angular face, short hair and perpetual five o'clock shadow—suggested, to one Celtic, Tony Perkins's Norman Bates character in Psycho.

Jerry Sichting, guard: Ralph Sampson's 1986 playoff sparring partner averaged 20 minutes per game during the season, about the same as last year when his straight-as-a-string jumper and adhesive defense contributed to the Celtic championship. But he has played sparingly in the playoffs (12 minutes per game) and, until he hit two key jumpers in the fourth quarter on Sunday, not very well (22 points on 10-of-26 shooting). More than anyone, Sichting misses Walton, who would draw the defense in and free him for his spot-up jumpers. "You have to find Jerry, and that's what Bill did," says Bird. Sichting is still the first guard off the Celtic bench, but that doesn't mean as much as it used to.

Darren Daye, forward: It was Daye, plucked from the waiver wire in December, who gave the Green Team its finest playoff moment when he hit a jumper and two free throws down the stretch in Boston's 138-137 double-OT victory against the Bucks in Game 4. Like Roberts, Daye is a versatile player who, at times, can defend, shoot, pass, rebound and run the floor. But not at all times.

Greg Kite, center: Injuries to the front line have forced Kite onto active standby. In 45 playoff minutes, however, he has scored only three points and committed 10 personal fouls. During one sad stretch in January, he made only one of 17 free throws. Veteran Boston Globe writer Bob Ryan called Kite "the least talented player in the NBA," and a story in The Boston Herald cited him as the most boring athlete in Boston. But his lowest point of the season came when a stat sheet in Indiana listed him as Tom Kite. "I hit eight fairways and 10 greens in regulation," said Kite.

Sam Vincent, guard: He's the Green Team mystery man, a talented offensive player who was Boston's first-round pick in the 1985 draft. But he has never gotten untracked, partly because he is mistake-prone and partly because he hasn't had the minutes to really strut his stuff. "Most teams have some sort of substitution pattern, but we seem to have absolutely none," says Vincent. He has played only 16 postseason minutes in six games.

Conner Henry, guard: Opinion is divided in Celtic Land about who is the more valuable asset, Henry, a 6'7" point guard with off-guard shooting skills, or Carlisle, a less gifted player who rarely makes a mistake. But it's not exactly a red-hot issue—Henry has played only five postseason minutes.

Surely, the Celtics could have used more help from the Green Team, especially with the cocky and well-rested Pistons waiting in the wings. Just as surely, the Celtic starters were tired of answering questions about being tired—particularly Bird, who said things like, "I get paid to play 48 minutes" and "I could play two games a day." Asked about his feelings when Ainge went down in the third quarter, Bird said: "My feeling was, let's get him off the court so we can get on with the game."

But that was the man's pride and arrogance talking. The reality was something else. In their protracted battle with Milwaukee, during which they blew a 3-1 series lead, the Celtics saw glimpses—if not a giant mural—of their own limitations. But they obviously had those other things going for them, the experience, the mental toughness, the character. Look at Bird's face at the free throw line in clutch situations. Look at Parish suck up the pain and grab 19 rebounds, as he did on Sunday. Look at DJ sail headlong into the courtside seats. You're looking at the x factor.

And at a team unwilling to become ex-champions.

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November 15^th, 1965

v.s. Philadelphia 76ers: The Celtics Isn't Dead Yet

After Boston lost three straight games on the road with three of its stars in bandages and a fourth on the recovery list, the rest of the league was hopeful. Now ask Philadelphia if the champ is still alive

Joe Jares

In a year when the boys are wearing the long hair, the Yankees finish in the second division and Texas loses three football games in a row, a man looks for verities to cling to. He looks to Boston. And there he finds a million sports fans declaiming as one: As sure as the sun will rise tomorrow over Plymouth Rock, the Celtics will win the championship of the National Basketball Association, just as they have done for seven years in a row.

Bostonians, of course, need to believe this. They are burdened by the ice hockey Bruins, the football Patriots and the baseball Red Sox. Something has to work. That leaves it up to the Celtics. And last Saturday, after their worst start in 10 years, in a game as furiously fought and fast-paced as a playoff final, the Celtics beat their toughest Eastern Division rival, reaffirming at least one verity in a heretical year.

The Celtics were bought in the off season by New York's Ruppert brewery (the same outfit that owned the Yankees in Babe Ruth's heyday), but that did not change things very much. Any opponent silly enough to drive toward Boston's basket would still encounter Bill Russell and have the ball smashed down his throat. K. C. Jones would harass rivals into silly errors for one more year before taking over the head coaching job at Brandeis. The other Jones, Sam, would bank-shoot a zillion points, and John Havlicek would come off the bench to play either forward or guard and score his 20. And when victory was clinched long before the buzzer, Coach Red Auerbach would sit back to gloat and light up his cigar. This was gospel. As Havlicek put it, "When you get a group of athletes used to winning, losing just isn't right."

The Celtics opened the season at the Boston Garden and won two straight, beating the Cincinnati Royals and Los Angeles Lakers by four points apiece. True, Auerbach had to save his stogies for the locker room, because the games were close, but Russell had 36 rebounds in one game, 29 in the next. Sam Jones scored 33 and 30. It looked as though the Celtics were breaking out of the starting gate as fast as in the last four years, when after 10 games they were 9-1, 8-2, 9-1 and 10-0.

Then they ventured outside New England, and the crash was as loud as if Russell had tumbled off a 10-foot stepladder. St. Louis beat them by 10 points. They went on to Cincinnati and a five-point loss, mainly because of a great performance at both ends of the court by the Royals' Jerry Lucas. The next game of the road trip, in Detroit, was a disaster. Boston led by 16 at one point but still blew the game, even though the Pistons are probably the worst team in the NBA. It was the Celtics' first loss to Detroit in 14 games. Auerbach held a post-game meeting with his players and riddled a few eardrums with the kind of talk he usually reserves for officials and his other natural enemies. "I wanted to get a few things clarified," he said.

"He really gave it to us," said one player. "Things will be different now."

Still, hopeful fans and players in other NBA cities began to ask, perhaps a trifle early in a long season, "What's the matter with the Celtics?" The Celtics themselves believe the main trouble was the two-week training camp at Babson Institute in Wellesley, Mass. Not that they have anything against Babson—except that it is an all-male school—but it was probably the most accident-prone camp in the team's history. Agreeing with this, Trainer Buddy LeRoux also insists, "We've always had a lot of injuries. On all championship ball clubs this will happen because of the extra effort that a champion puts into his game. Look at the New York Yankees and the Montreal Canadiens."

At Babson, Tom Sanders, the finest defensive forward in the league, leaped to block a shot, was bumped from the side by a rookie and turned head over sneakers. He landed on the back of his neck and right shoulder, suffering a considerable amount of muscle damage and severe bone bruises. He missed all but two days of camp and will not be 100% effective for another month. Forward Ron Bonham tore ligaments in his left foot and had a double dislocation of the thumb on his shooting hand. Willie Naulls tore a hamstring muscle, and John Havlicek suffered a muscle separation in his left thigh. When Havlicek's leg was X-rayed doctors found he had a "big piece of calcium on the back of the femur" from some unremembered high school injury. He will have to wear a specially built thigh pad the rest of his career. Seven-footer Mel Counts, tuning up his defense by trying to guard a teeny backcourt man, fell and broke his right wrist and has yet to play in either an exhibition or regular game.

Bad luck hounded the team in other ways. Sam Jones's car was forced off the road on the way to the Boston airport, and he barely managed to steer it between two poles. And a suitcase containing Havlicek's thigh pad was stolen. The theft got as much publicity in town as the Brink's job, but the suitcase and pad turned up a few days later at Boston's South Station.

The retirement of Forward Tom Heinsohn could not be discounted easily either. Always a tough offensive rebounder and a clutch point-getter, he had rarely been given credit for his alert ball-sniping. He was just 31 in August but insisted he wanted to quit to give full time to his insurance business, though he hinted that he would return if alma mater got in trouble. Heinsohn has not worked out, however, and is nowhere near playing shape. "We're going to miss Tommy," said Auerbach, "and I got no help in the draft." As a dim hope to partially fill the vacancy, Auerbach acquired Don Nelson, who had been put on waivers by Los Angeles.

Age, too, seemed to be a Boston liability. Of the five starters, K. C. Jones is 33, Sam Jones 32, Naulls and Russell 31 and Sanders 28—the oldest group of regulars in the league. Were they slower? Could they recover from injuries as quickly as formerly? Russell scoffed at such questions. "You guys have been saying that we're getting old for the past five years now," he told the press, "and still we keep winning. It's going to be the same this year."

None of the other Celtics were in need of tranquilizers either. "I don't think there's anything to be alarmed about," said Havlicek. "There's no worry, not yet," said K. C. Jones. "Once we start worrying, then we're in trouble. You have to have that confidence." Auerbach fretted least of all. "After those three losses everybody panicked but my players and me," he said.

Red was so confident that he took off most of last week to visit his family in Washington, to deliver two elder-statesman speeches in Tennessee and to work on his autobiography, due in the bookstalls next fall. (His first work, Basketball for the Player, the Fan and the Coach, has sold 600,000 copies and has been translated into Italian, Polish, Rumanian and Russian. If the next Russian Olympic basketball coach wears wild sports jackets and gripes constantly at the referees, the world will know why.) In the boss's absence Russell ran a series of tough practices at the Cambridge YMCA.

In one scrimmage Ron Bonham was playing against Willie Naulls. Both are normally as mild-mannered as Clark Kent. In fact, Bonham had been razzed because he had not always fared well last season as a rookie in the NBA's cruel initiation rites of shoving, hacking, elbowing and other humiliations borrowed from the middle of the Chicago Bears' line. In the rough play this day Naulls lost his temper after catching one too many elbows and started punching. Their teammates separated them, and Bonham stalked off the court toward the locker room.

Russell ordered him back, apparently to stage a handshake ceremony, but the combatants started bickering again and Bonham hit Naulls in the face. Again teammates had to step in. The two were finally cooled off and went through the rest of the workout without incident. If the Celtics were not worried, they were at least edgy and anxious to prove something to themselves as well as the rest of the league.

Friday night they did, beating the Baltimore Bullets 129-118 for their first road victory of the season. Naulls, none the worse for his boxing exhibition, scored 28 points, and Sam Jones added 27, mostly in the second half. Now Boston was 4-3 but still third in the Eastern Division.

Saturday night in the Boston Garden the Celtics met the first-place team, the Philadelphia 76ers. If something besides injuries and Heinsohn's absence was wrong with the Celtics, it certainly would show up in this game. Even if nothing else developed, those two handicaps could easily prove crucial against Philadelphia, which had always battled the Celtics on even terms and now had a strong, hustling rookie in Billy Cunningham and a new backcourt man, Wally Jones, who could shoot nearly as well as teammate Hal Greer and could run a sparkling fast break. Every NBA team, sick to death of the perennial champions, was eager to exploit Boston's supposed weakness. This was especially true of the 76ers. They had lost the seventh and final game of the Eastern playoffs last year by a single point when Havlicek anticipated a last-seconds out-of-bounds play and intercepted the pass.

A capacity crowd wedged into the Garden, leaving hundreds stranded outside. The fanatics down in Philly watched on television. It was a natural. There was Russell vs. Chamberlain in a duel of the $100,000 pivotmen. Their various and vocal supporters had always argued over which was better; now they were debating which had the fatter wallet. If the 76ers were bitter, the Celtics resented the fuss over Philadelphia's early victories. " Philadelphia hasn't done anything yet," Auerbach said. "They've won two games at home and one on the road. I don't think that's so much. What is this, anyway?" It was a good buildup for the game, that's what.

From the tip-off, both teams played as if it were the final game of the playoffs all over again instead of an early-season conditioner. Russell and Chamberlain batted so many balls away from their respective baskets that it sometimes looked like a two-man volleyball game. The Celtics jumped off to a 13-6 lead in the first quarter, but Naulls felt his injured hamstring hurting again and Sam Jones reinjured the little finger of his shooting hand. Both stayed in the game. Boston led at the end of the first quarter 28-23, mainly because Naulls, Russell, K. C. and the others were battling for, and getting, the second and third shots. It was a scrappy offensive rebounding exhibition that Heinsohn, sitting in the stands, must have admired. Auerbach kept Havlicek beside him on the bench through this period, waiting for the proper moment to unleash his sixth man. When Havlicek got in he was cold at first, and though he began to hit in the second quarter the other Celtics could not locate the basket and Philadelphia left at half time with a 48-45 lead. Chamberlain was agitated at his own and others' mistakes and was acting as if he cared desperately about the outcome. Greer and Cunningham were superb.

It took almost the entire third period for the Celtics to battle back to a 69-69 tie, thanks largely to beautiful moves and sharp shooting by Havlicek, K. C.'s defensive work and, surprisingly, the play of that Los Angeles castoff, Don Nelson. The husky 6-foot-6 former Iowa star blocked a shot � la Russell, was the center man once on a fast break and had eight points and eight rebounds in less than half the game.

Going into the fourth quarter the Celtics led 71-69, but in the next few minutes, with a typical Boston surge, they ran the 76ers right through the door, down a ramp and out onto Causeway Street. Havlicek, Nelson and Sam Jones scored 11 points, while Chamberlain managed two for Philadelphia. Boston kept about that margin the rest of the way and won 101-91. Nelson scored the last three points, Havlicek hit 31 and Sam, even with the sore finger, had 21. Russell outrebounded Wilt 29 to 24.

Outside the Celtics' locker room the brewery executives and Tommy Heinsohn had to wait patiently until the team settled down a little. Finally the door was opened, and amid the clutter of towels and well-wishers that eminent author, Red Auerbach, could be seen sipping from a can of the correct brand of beer and smugly sucking on his cigar. Red was in his heaven and all was well with Boston.

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December 24^th, 1984

v.s. Philadelphia 76ers: They Shook Hands And Came Out Exciting

Julius Erving and Larry Bird put down their dukes as Philadelphia beat Boston in a classic game

Alexander Wolff

Of all the objects besides a basketball that might find their way into the immense hands of Julius Erving and Larry Bird, consider for a moment a hatchet and a torch.

Happily, the hatchet has been buried. As for the torch, posterity may come to recognize Dec. 12, when the Philadelphia 76ers beat the Boston Celtics 110-107, as the night Dr. J passed it on. Intramurally, it may have been vouchsafed to an irrepressible rookie forward named Charles Barkley, who served notice that he will be a lead character in Philly-Boston dramas long after the Doctor retires. And in the grander scheme of pro basketball's grandest players, Erving offered, with a disarming pregame act of sportsmanship, to pass to Bird the torch of noblesse oblige.

Ever since Nov. 9, when Erving and Bird were thumbed from the Celtics' 130-119 rout of the Sixers in Boston Garden for fighting with each other, the NBA had been buzzing about the confrontation between the captains of its two best teams. And after the league office announced fines totaling $30,500, covering 18 participants in the melee and including levies of $7,500 each for the two principals, attention quickly shifted to the teams' next game. Would Bird and Erving shake hands? Smile? Kiss and make up? Be ebony and ivory? Or oil and water? The league office feigned disinterest by scheduling its Christmas party for that evening and assigning referee Tommy Nunez, who's known around the league as Mascara because of his penchant for whistling makeup calls, to work the game. "It's like a high school dance," someone said during the suspenseful few hours before tip-off. "Everyone's watching to see who's talking to whom."

At 6:10 p.m., 90 minutes before the opening tip, a ball boy emerged from the Celtics' locker room. Doc had just been in there, he said, and had actually put his arm around Bird, drawing him into conversation. "I wanted to take the initiative with Larry," Erving would say later.

By 6:20, four players—Sixers Leon Wood and Erving, Celtics Scott Wedman and Bird—were taking warmup shots at the Spectrum's west basket. Bird stood under the hoop for one stretch, doing the rebounding stint that's obligatory in playground protocol. At least seven times he flicked the Doctor's shots back out to him.

And at 7:30, just before the pregame intros would begin, Bird and Erving were at midcourt, brought together by Nunez and his partner, Jess Kersey. The two players shook hands and seemed to be enjoying a reunion. "The referee might have cracked a joke," Dr. J said later. "I might have told him [Bird] that his great season was good for the league. And he might have said, 'You're having a good season, too.' " And they shook hands warmly again.

"I fought my brothers all my life," Bird would say after the game, "and I like them."

"It's over," said Erving. "These teams have to play each other four more times and probably in the playoffs. And they want to play—not gang war, fight or do the things that have made good copy. Boston doesn't need motivation to play Philly. And Philly doesn't need it to play Boston. It's behind me. Behind us."

"Thank goodness!" said Celtic forward Cedric Maxwell. "[NBA Commissioner David] Stern would have had a heart attack if they'd fought again. Those two are the role models."

Unfortunately, all the attention accorded the fight has obscured the marvelous seasons both Erving and Bird are having. The off-season was ominous for the Doc. Early in the summer his sister died of cancer, and his stepfather and father-in-law passed away, too. Then the 76ers actually listened for more than a minute to the Los Angeles Clippers when they called offering to trade Terry Cummings for Erving.

But when training camp opened the Sixers initiated talks with Erving's agent, Irwin Weiner, about re-signing Dr. J, who'll be 35 in February, after his contract runs out next spring. And the play of Barkley, the 6'6", 260-pound Round Mound of Rebound from Auburn, who finally earned a starting spot on Nov. 30, has allowed the Doctor to operate with more room. He's taking more jumpers and fewer shots off post-up power moves and getting his assists by dumping the ball into center Moses Malone and The Promised Land Mass. "The idea is to get the guy [normally Barkley] with the weaker defensive player on him down low," says Erving. "If I can score 20 points a game [he was averaging 21.2 at week's end] and not spend as much physically to do it, it can prolong my career."

Meanwhile Bird, at 28, is having the finest of his six pro seasons. As of Sunday he was getting 28.7 points a game, over four more than his previous best. "If you'd have told me at the end of last season that he could play better, I'd have been amazed," says Jan Volk, general manager of the Celtics, whom Bird led to a pulsating four-games-to-three victory over the L.A. Lakers in last spring's NBA finals. "But he has played better." Perhaps it's because of the time he spent last summer running up hills in southern Indiana, or the extra half-hour he puts in shooting alone before games, or the simple fact that his teammates are looking for him more. Bird was shooting 53.6%, with a league-leading 48.5% (16-for-33) from three-point range, which is remarkable, because he's a career 49% field-goal shooter overall. "He's just playing with more confidence," says Maxwell. "Then again, if you're MVP of the league, it's not hard to have confidence."

How did Bird and Erving allow themselves to sink into a common street fight? One theory holds that a knee injury that forced referee Jack Madden from the Nov. 9 game early in the third quarter and left his partner, Dick Bavetta, alone, contributed to a situation in which physical contact got out of hand. Bavetta had to go it alone, and, wrote Dan Shaughnessy in The Boston Globe, "It was like leaving Barney Fife in charge of Hill Street Precinct." Another view has it that Erving, having been Dr. Do-Little for the game—he'd scored but six points while Bird had gone for 42, most of them against the Doc—was frustrated.

Of course, Philly-Boston fisticuffs have a hoary tradition, dating back to the days when Philadelphia's NBA team was the Warriors. Before the set-tos of the last few years ( Malone vs. Celtics president Red Auerbach, Malone vs. Maxwell, former Celtic Gerald Henderson vs. Sixer Sedale Threatt, Bird vs. Marc Iavaroni and Sixers coach Billy Cunningham vs. his sport coat), there were such notable bouts as the Warriors' Tom Meschery vs. the Celtics' Tom Heinsohn and Philly's Wilt Chamberlain vs. Boston's Jim Loscutoff, and who can ever forget the night Sam Jones went after Wilt with a stool?

But none of the theories fully accounts for two superstars risking their reputations, their priceless hands—Bird already has a badly bent right index finger as a result of a Softball injury—and the mugs that pull in hundreds of thousands of dollars annually in endorsement deals, including the plugs for Converse, in which they appear together. After viewing tapes and conducting interviews, the league office issued a statement calling Bird "clearly the aggressor, the instigator of the melee." (According to eyewitnesses, Bird seemed to say something that touched off the incident, but if he did say anything, neither Bird nor Erving will say what.) The NBA also upbraided Erving for "escalating an already serious situation." Both have appealed their fines.

Meanwhile, boxing promoter Don King sent Bird and Erving telegrams, asking them to fight under his auspices. This sort of thing left Erving, who ripped up King's wire and threw it away, embarrassed. "We need a better image than that as athletes and as gentlemen of the sport," he said. "It was really a bad scene, a night when there must have been a full moon."

Wednesday night's moon was in its last quarter, which is when the game was decided. The first period was Erving's. He scored eight points in nine minutes, stuffing two of his own shots and snuffing three others, including one by Bird, whom he held to a single basket as the Sixers went out to a 37-23 lead. Bird atoned in the second. With the Spectrum crowd—17,921, a sellout—booing every time he touched the ball, Bird threw in three jumpers, including one that closed Philly's halftime lead to 59-56.

In the fateful fourth quarter, Sixers guard Andrew Toney outdid both Doc and Bird, nailing a jumper, darting down the lane and passing off for a Malone dunk and stroking in another J. Then, with 1:27 left, his 23-footer put Philly ahead 108-107. "The Boston Strangler strikes again," Maxwell moaned after the game. "The FBI should put him on their Most Wanted list."

Celtic center Robert Parish, one of the few noncombatants in November—"I couldn't afford the $500," he said, though he earns $650,000 a year—muffed a pair of free throws at :35 and a turnaround jumper after a subsequent rebound. McHale was forced to foul Barkley intentionally with 11 seconds remaining. "I hope you miss," Barkley says Celtic guard Danny Ainge told him. The rookie, who was fined $1,000 for holding Bird while Erving pummeled him on fight night, drained both shots the way the veteran Parish hadn't, to all but clinch the victory.

Erving had sat on the bench for most of the last four minutes, while Bobby Jones hounded Bird and Barkley—who finished with 17 points and 12 rebounds—threw his weight around the lane. "Bobby and Charles were playing so well," Cunningham said. "We had a six-point turnaround and I wasn't going to make any changes."

"I understand it," Erving said in the Philly locker room after the game. "The way the team's made up, I don't have serious problems with that. If we lose games because of that, Billy and I can discuss it."

Then he finished dressing—is there any other NBA player who wears French-cuffed shirts to games?—and made a concession. "His [Bird's] responsibility is larger than mine is right now. Every night they expect 30 points from him, and to be the leading rebounder. I've been in that situation, and it's tough. This is the best situation for me right now."

With 11 seconds to go, Erving went back in to replace Barkley, who might have made a rookie defensive blunder. Ainge and Bird missed three-pointers, and as the result was about to take its place in the archives—the Sixers have now won 27 of 51 meetings with the Celtics during the era of Bird, who had 34 points, and Erving, who had 16—a fight broke out. A fan dressed in a Santa suit had obstructed the view of a patron in a $60 seat, and they mixed it up.

"An omen," Maxwell said.

An omen of what?

"Tells you things aren't good in the world."

Things, however, are good once again in that other world, in which only Bird and Doc reside.

http://vault.sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1124428/index.htm

May 4^th, 1981

v.s. Philadelphia 76ers: The Wearin' Down O' The Green

The 76ers floored the Celtics at Boston Garden and went on to take a 3-1 lead in the East

John Papanek

You'll have to pardon those effete Eastern snobs for applauding the earthquake that wiped out the western half of the NBA. Houston? Kansas City? Please. Why not let the winner of Philadelphia vs. Boston take on the best of the Italian League for the world championship? Even the miraculous Moses Malone, who scored 42 points and had 23 rebounds Sunday to lead the Rockets to the 100-89 win that put Houston ahead of the Kings 3-1, can't obscure the fact that both Western Conference finalists finished the regular season with losing records.

The 76ers and the Celtics? They each had 62-20 records, best in the league; split six games this season, each winning its three at home; and they were replaying last year's Eastern Conference final, which Philadelphia won four games to one. The Sixers want to make good after two unsuccessful trips to the finals in the last four years, and they're a better team now, with a rookie scoring guard who has the weirdest shot this side of the Y. Wait till you see him. But the Celtics are improved, too, with a pair of new big men Red Auerbach found to replace Dave Cowens. There's only one thing wrong. The Celtics can't seem to win a game in Philadelphia.

In fact, in the opener of the best-of-seven series, they couldn't win in Boston, either. "It's just one game. You gotta win four. There ain't no home-court advantage in the playoffs." What else would one expect Boston's Larry Bird to say on April 21 after a sensational Boston Garden cliff-hanger, in which the lead changed hands four times in the final 27 seconds before Philly pulled it out 105-104? Basketball needs no talking. That's why coaches have been known to tape their players' mouths shut in practice. One move, one nod, one blink is worth a million words. "You think I'm going right, baby, but it's slide left and see you later," or "I cut, you pass," or "Shoot it and I'll ram it down your throat." All are bits of the unspoken dialogue between two great teams in the playoffs. Cats and mice don't have time to negotiate.

Neither do Birds. Bird, the former Hick from French Lick (Ind.), is no great orator, but his basketball game speaks volumes: 33 points and 10 rebounds worth in Game 1.

But, still, this one got away from Boston and gave the home-court advantage to the 76ers. Considering each team's inability to win on the road against the other this season, that meant something. Moreover, the opening home-court loss by Boston recalled only too vividly what happened in last year's Eastern final: Boston lost the home opener and that was more or less it.

Bird's performance could have won the game for the Celtics—his two free throws gave them a 104-103 lead with four seconds left—but it didn't. It only proved that playoff basketball almost always goes beyond the tangibles. For instance, a couple of questions: 1) Which would have the greatest effect on the series' outcome: (a) Boston's eight-day rest after demolishing the Chicago Bulls in four straight games in the conference semis; (b) Philadelphia's momentum after a hard-fought seven-game Eastern semifinal against Milwaukee; or (c) Philadelphia's fatigue from same? 2) Who is Andrew Toney and what does he have in common with Lloyd (All-World) Free?

Before the series started, the strategic priorities were clearly drawn, though circumstances would ultimately change them often. The first was muscle. Boston's legion of big men, Robert Parish, Bird, Rick Robey and rookie Kevin Mc-Hale, would have to secure the defensive backboard—the launch pad—and kick the payload out to Nate (Tiny) Archibald, commander of the game's best fast break. Philadelphia's Darryl Dawkins, Caldwell Jones, Steve Mix and Bobby Jones would have to thwart that plan, force the Celtics into a half-court game "and then trigger the Sixers' own formidable break. In the opener Parish, who since joining Boston from Golden State this season has been seen as the reincarnation of Bill Russell, took down 13 rebounds and blocked four shots, but overall the inside game was a stalemate.

So the next priority was finesse. Each team had an offensive weapon of singular brilliance at forward—Bird of the Celtics and Julius Erving of the 76ers. It was a given that neither would guard the other, simply because the special effort required to play such defense would detract from that player's offense. Philadelphia Coach Billy Cunningham learned that fact last year when he assigned Erving to Bird for the first two games of the series, and The Doctor was too tired to operate on offense. Cunningham subsequently turned that job over to the Jones boys—Caldwell and Bobby—and gave them the duty again this time around, while Boston Coach Bill Fitch gave the Erving watch to Cedric Maxwell and McHale.

Boston won that battle, holding Erving to 25 points on 8-for-20 shooting. But the one thing the Celtics hoped wouldn't happen, did. They were burned—and burned badly—in the backcourt, where Archibald and Chris Ford, both 32 years old, share time with M.L. Carr, a converted forward, and a flighty second-year man, Gerald Henderson. Most of the damage was done by Toney, a 23-year-old rookie reserve out of Southwestern Louisiana, who lit up the Garden for 26 points, mostly on odd-looking jumpers that he seemed to squeeze two-handed from behind his head, as though he were shooting giant watermelon seeds. Toney instantly became a certified Boston villain, much as Free had been when he personally took the Celtics out of the playoffs as a 76er rookie back in 1977.

The final indignity came after Bird's free throws had apparently won the game. With two seconds left. Maxwell stuck out a leg to deliberately trip Toney, who had beaten Cornbread en route to what would have been a game-winning Philly field goal. Sixer Guard Lionel Hollins was asked if he was nervous with the fate of the game resting in the hands of a rookie on the foul line. "Not a rookie like him" said Hollins. And Toney calmly sank the free throws.

Afterward, Toney was asked about his unusual shooting style. "It's not unusual to me," he said. That's all right. Bostonians don't think they have accents. In the unhappy Garden exodus one was-heard to mutter, "If the Celtics don't go any fahtha this year, I'm through."

The next night another fan in the Garden lobby seemed to be calling on the Deity for help: "A god! A god! What we need is a god!" One had to wonder if the speaker wouldn't settle for, say, Russell or Bob Cousy or at least John Havlicek. "Ah-chibahld is good but not great," the fan continued. "We need a god." Oh, a god. A guard! Another rap at the back-court. No more of those this night, though, as Archibald scored 19 points and had four assists, and Ford and Carr bottled up the hated Toney, at least until Bird led the Celtics out to a flash 19-point first-half lead that never diminished as Boston won 118-99.

The crowd booed Toney lustily, but not nearly so passionately as it hooted Dawkins each time he left the game. Double D was in foul trouble all the way and collected a measly eight points and seven rebounds. As for Toney, Ford played right up in his face like a bulldog, so aggressively, in fact, that Ford picked up three fouls in the first period. The crowd loved it, and few realized that Toney had clicked for 35 points—you got it, 35—until the final stats were announced.

"I don't think Toney will beat us again in the series," said Fitch. "O.K., he got 35. But 35 when you're down 20 means our defense was working where it should."

Where it worked was everywhere else, especially on Erving, held by Maxwell and McHale to 12 points. "I was the goat, in Game I," said Maxwell. "So I knew I needed to make up for it tonight."

Underneath the basket, Boston brought all its power to bear, dominating in rebounds 52-41. Parish had 12 of them, along with four blocked shots and 17 points. Caldwell Jones, Philly's best rebounder, could get his hands on only five, mainly because his hands were full of Bird. "Nah," said Jones. "I think...I was...I got...whew...how many points did he get?"

Bird got 34, and 16 rebounds. He hit 14 of 21 shots from everywhere, whether guarded by Jones One, Jones Two or two Joneses and a player to be named later. He worked the basketball masterfully, playing his defender like a yo-yo on a string. "He's the best flat-footed faker I've ever seen," said Bobby Jones. With the ball held low and to the side or above his head. Bird would send his man streaking this way or that with a mere flick of an elbow or a nod of his head. If his man stayed with him, he would whip a fake pass behind his back, and then, when the defender turned his head, Bird would pull the ball back and flick away the quickest and truest 22-footer since Jerry West.

Bird is still shy with the press. Nevertheless, 30 reporters waited while he took a 40-minute shower. When he emerged they sang Hail to the Chief. He smiled. He was asked if the game was easy for him. "Easy?" he said. "I worked harder tonight than ever. It's never easy, because you're banging, pushing, scratching for everything you get."

Optimism flowed from the Garden portals once more. "It's got to be Auerbach," said a cabbie settling behind the wheel. "Parish, McHale, Carr, I never even heard of 'em before. What're they going to do when Red retires? Hang a cigar from the ceiling, or what?"

So it was on to Philadelphia's Spectrum, where the Celtics hadn't won since Jan. 20, 1979. That's nine straight, including playoffs. "I've never won a game there. What's it like?" said Bird to Ford. "I can't remember," said Ford. For this trip, Boston switched hotels, hoping to break the jinx, but on Friday night the 76ers pulled out all the stops to make the Celtics fidget: a sellout crowd; spotlighted intros; swirling stars projected onto the floor; fireworks exploding from the ceiling; and Grover Washington Jr. wailing the national anthem on the tenor sax.

Erving was the first to arrive in the Sixers' dressing room, looking refreshed. "Two nights in my own bed," he said. "Just what the doctor ordered." What Cunningham ordered turned out to be just as important, and it accounted for the smug look on Erving's face. Surprise! The Doctor would be The Defender this night. He draped his long arms and body all over Bird, absolutely denying him the ball and making him work for virtually every one of his points. This definitely wasn't an easy night for Bird. And that made everything fall into place defensively for Philadelphia. Instead of having to chase Bird around the perimeter, Caldwell Jones lay back in the pit, where he collared 14 rebounds and blocked five shots. He and Dawkins stopped Boston's inside game cold, contributing to Parish's missing 13 of 14 shots and limiting him to just eight rebounds. "I wouldn't say that this was one of my worst games," said Parish. "I'd say it was the worst."

Philadelphia outrebounded Boston 50-48 and outscored the Celtics 27-17 on fast breaks to win 110-100. It was a reversal of Game 2: Philadelphia got out fast, thanks to an 11-0 run in the first period, opened an 18-point lead and then pulled away again after Boston got to within six in the fourth period. Erving scored 22 points, and there were 19 more from Toney—"I still say he's not the guy who'll beat us," said Fitch—16 each from a running Bobby Jones and a shooting Hollins and 15 from a ferocious Dawkins, who said he prefers the later games of a series "because [the refs] let us do a lot of bumpin' 'n' bangin'."

Erving chortled because he was singled out for defensive, rather than offensive, excellence. "Usually when people bring up my defense they criticize it," he said.

Meanwhile, Fitch was looking around his locker room saying, "This team has to get somebody who can put the ball in the basket besides Larry Bird." If he spotted someone, he didn't point him out.

"All I know," said Bird, "is that if we can't win in Philadelphia, we don't deserve to be NBA champions."

And in the first half of Game 4 on Sunday afternoon, also in the Spectrum, the Celtics looked as if they couldn't win in a schoolyard. Meanwhile, Philadelphia came out smoking, making 58% of its first-half field-goal attempts, passing with exceptional timing and accuracy, blocking nine Celtic shots and zooming to an 11-point lead early in the second quarter. Bird, again played by Erving, missed seven of his eight first-half shots, though his 11 rebounds were nearly half of Boston's total. One stretch epitomized Bird's frustration and, in a larger sense, symbolized the Celtics' apparent Philadelphia jinx. Bird had two shots blocked by Erving; he committed a lazy man's foul on Bobby Jones; he turned the ball over on traveling and five-second violations; and then, wrestling for a defensive rebound, he was flung ignominiously to the floor and was left there to watch helplessly while the indefatigable Toney sped off for a fast-break dunk.

It was another blowout, or so it seemed, until Ford suddenly got his outside shot warm. Bird shook loose from his slump and Parish came out of hiding in the third period. Boston scored 11 straight points in one span, shot 67% for the quarter and cut an 18-point deficit to one. Said a confounded Cunningham afterward, "You go in at halftime and tell them how well they played in the first half, tell them what they have to do to maintain their lead, and then they almost blow it."

The fourth period probably decided the series, and that quarter came down to the last minute. After Archibald had broken away with a Parish rebound to cut the Sixers' lead to 107-105, Philadelphia gave the ball away on a 24-second violation; but with a chance to tie the game with 36 seconds left, Parish missed a 12-footer. Twenty seconds later Bobby Jones missed an eight-footer. Maxwell got the rebound for Boston and pitched it to Archibald as Jones went for the steal. Archibald never saw Fitch call for a timeout. Instead he pushed the ball to midcourt and launched a pass that looked as if it would hit Bird perfectly on his flight to the basket. But at the last moment Bobby Jones came soaring in like a free safety to make a game-saving interception.

Jones' play left everyone amazed. "That's why I call him White Lightning," said Dawkins, who calls himself Chocolate Thunder.

White Lightning himself could barely describe his feat. "This is the way I remember it," said Jones. "I was trying to get the ball out of Maxwell's hands after the rebound, then all of a sudden it's back in my hands." It was that simple, except that all of a sudden Jones had covered 94 feet of basketball court. "I guess I just ran back and spotted Bird when I was at midcourt," said Jones. "I never saw the ball until it was in my hands."

Not one of the 76ers would consider the series won, their chance to play for the NBA title again all locked up. But neither would any Celtic dare to predict three straight wins. After all, that would require beating Philly at the Spectrum in Game 6, and after Sunday's 11th straight loss there, Fitch was referring to the Sixers' arena as "this house of jinxes." All in all, the Celtics would rather not go back to Philadelphia. Ever.

http://vault.sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1125070/index.htm

December 14^th, 1981

v.s. Philadelphia 76ers: Better By Just A Tiny Bit

As the game's greatest rivalry resumed, a little man gave the Celtics a big lift over the 76ers

Anthony Cotton

Let's see, now. Magic Johnson's playing games and Marques Johnson isn't. Hubie Brown leaves coaching to become an announcer and Kevin Loughery leaves announcing to coach Brown's old team. San Antonio, with its Fire and Ice backcourt, is hot, and Houston—an NBA Championship finalist last May—isn't. Oh yes, Boston and Philadelphia are at it again. Round I was fought last Friday night in Boston, and it went to the Celtics 111-103. The other developments had to do with mere basketball. Beantown gave us a glimpse of holy wars.

True, the game was but the first of six regular-season meetings between the two teams, but Boston Coach Bill Fitch says he can remember only one time in the last two years that a Celtics-Sixers matchup wasn't important. That was the last game of the 1979-80 season, when playoff positioning had already been decided. Even so, that was a six-point tingler. "There's been no time to enjoy the last two years because we're so involved with each other," Fitch says. "Sometimes I think it's more important to them to beat us during the regular season than in the playoffs."

The playoffs. They're what made this first game so special, because the last time the two teams met, also in Boston Garden, nothing less than the NBA Championship was on the line. After the Celtics overcame a 3-1 deficit in games and went on to win the deciding seventh game 91-90, there was little doubt that they would take the title, and they did, defeating Houston four games to two.

Some believed last season's failure would devastate the 76ers, but they entered Friday's game the winners of 10 of their last 11, and with a 14-2 record, the best in the NBA (but only a half game ahead of the 14-3 Celtics). Half of Philadelphia's wins had come on the road, where it was undefeated. Boston was 9-1 at home. Sixers General Manager Pat Williams said, "If we win, does it prove anything? No. But it would give us a lift psychologically to break service in the other people's building."

"With each game, some little thing gets established," said Julius Erving. "Then the next game you play chess again until you find the things you can use to win in the end."

Of course, all these strategic subtleties wouldn't matter as much if the teams were battling for last place, which hasn't happened very often. "We go through thorough studies of our players on and off the court," Coach Billy Cunningham says. "In the end we'll accept a little less talent in someone who works a little harder for the team. The end of the bench is very important, because they're the ones who can cause the most problems in the locker rooms."

Fitch agrees. "Other teams have as much talent as we do, if not more, but it doesn't mesh as well. Also, you know both teams will play you hard every night. On other teams the players sometimes play not to lose; we play to win." But not always in the same style. Philadelphia, the veteran team, is looser, while the Celtics, perhaps just because they are the Celtics, are more restrained. At midday Friday the Sixers held a short workout in the Garden before owner Harold Katz, the press and anyone who happened to stroll in, while the Celtics, as is their custom under Fitch, drilled in private for almost two hours at Hellenic College in Brookline. On Friday night a pair of television sets in the Boston locker room were smartly switched from a rerun of The Jeffersons to a cassette of the rerun of the exhibition game played on Oct. 9 between Boston and Philly. Boston had won that one 103-94. The game's the thing.

And Boston won last Friday night, although Philadelphia probably had more talent. Sound familiar? Portland prevailed over Philly in the 1977 championship series, L.A. in 1980—but Boston has inflicted the most pain. There was that two-point defeat in the seventh game of the 1961-62 divisional finals (when the Philadelphia team was the Warriors). Three years later another seventh game was lost by a point when an inbound pass was stolen by John Havlicek, and Boston again won the East.

Last spring the Sixers blew a six-point lead with 1:51 to go in the fifth game, a 17-point lead in the sixth and an 11-point margin in the seventh game.

Cunningham missed the 1967-68 fold-up because of a broken wrist. Philly had gone ahead 3-1 in games only to blow yet another divisional title. But now as coach he found last year's defeat especially painful. "It took me several weeks to get over it, to figure out what happened and what didn't," Cunningham says. "I knew certain people wouldn't come back strong, but I had no doubts about this team this year." After the preseason Cunningham dumped his double big-man tandem of Darryl Dawkins and Caldwell Jones, replacing C.J. with erstwhile sixth man Bobby Jones, who could do more of those "little things" that all good team players do.

Dawkins stayed in the starting lineup as the enforcer for the smallish front line. He was averaging more than nine rebounds a game while shooting 62.2% from the floor before missing a pair of games last week with a hyperextended right knee. It was hoped that he would recover for the Celtics, but a noticeable limp restricted him to only 11 minutes. "It's better to lose him for one night than one month," said Cunningham.

Apart from the on-the-court changes, Philadelphia has benefited from a change in attitude as well, according to Erving: "Last year we entered the season believing we had to win the championship or be considered failures. So in the regular season, winning was routine and losing was almost catastrophic. We weren't learning anything about us over the course of the season, how we were playing, how we used people, the character of the team.

"We have to decide when to be structured and patterned and when to just go out and play. We didn't do that against Boston last year. This year we're learning how to enjoy each regular-season game and still be therein the end."

There is where Boston returned after Celtic tradition took a three-year leave of absence following the 1975-76 championship, because of uninspired players and over-inspired owners. The nadir came in the 1978-79 season when Boston finished last in the Atlantic Division, 25 games out of first with a 29-53 record. But before that sorriest of seasons even started the Celtics had begun closing in on the man who would help lead them out of the wilderness—Larry Bird. In the draft they picked Bird as a junior eligible, and in 1979 he joined the team. He would become the catalyst for the new/old Celts, who, oddly enough, were patterned in part after Philadelphia. Fitch was in his first season in Boston. "The Sixers blew us away in an exhibition game in Maine [120-101] that year, and I said I'd be happy if we could be half as good as they were," he recalls. "They were the standard that we were trying to shoot for."

The Celtics finished that season 61-21, having achieved the best one-year turnaround in NBA history. Boston even split the season's series with the Sixers, but Philly stuffed the Celtics in the conference playoff finals in five games. In the off-season the 76ers again were the inspiration for change in Boston as Fitch tried to figure out a way of keeping up with the Joneses while keeping the Doctor away.

Unable to out-finesse the Sixers, the Celtics decided to bludgeon them, trading for Robert Parish, drafting Kevin McHale and planning to give more time to Rick Robey off the bench.

However, the Celtics' delicate balance and camaraderie may soon be disrupted when Danny Ainge, late of the Toronto Blue Jays, dons his new green sneakers. He has signed a five-year Celtic contract at an estimated $350,000 per year. And when he's activated it will be goodby to one of the less visible Celtics. Still another move will have to be made when M.L. Carr comes off the injured list, where he's spent the season so far because of a fractured right leg.

"The fellas have treated me as well as can be expected under the circumstances," Ainge says, "but I'm sure there may be some hard feelings if someone has to leave."

"I drive around town and hear my name being tossed around on the radio talk shows all the time," reserve Center-Forward Eric Fernsten said before Friday's game. "One guy calls in and I'm a Celtic; the next one calls and I'm not. No one's as worried about what's gonna happen tonight as what's gonna happen next week."

On this night, at least, the mystique was intact. Ainge was sitting at the press table next to the Boston bench. Chris Ford, whose playing time is likely to be cut when Ainge joins up, bombed the 76ers with three first-period three-pointers as Boston raced to a four-point lead at the quarter that became 13 at halftime.

When Dawkins picked up his fourth personal in the first minute of the second half and then Parish hit a long jumper from near the top of the key, the Garden fans sensed a rout. But Philly came back by crashing the offensive boards, cutting the Boston margin to 75-68 on a Caldwell Jones basket that came after four offensive rebounds. Boston would get 11 offensive rebounds in the game, the Sixers 13, 10 in the second half.

To counteract Philadelphia's aggressiveness, Fitch moved Bird, who had a—for him—quiet 24 points and 10 rebounds, to guard with 9:08 to play and Boston leading 88-83. It was the second consecutive game in which Bird was used in the backcourt, and only the fifth time in his professional career. Cunningham chose not to put someone bigger than the 6'3" Lionel Hollins on the 6'9" Bird.

Indeed, in Bird's eight-minute stint in the backcourt, the Sixers cut the Boston lead to 92-91 and 94-93 before McHale and Nate Archibald put the game away by combining for 14 points in the last five minutes. Just before the game's opening tip, Fitch had told Archibald, "Go out and get 21," and Tiny came through, almost, scoring 22 on nine-of-12 shooting from the field, with eight assists. When Dawkins was on the bench, he drove the lane seemingly at will. McHale scored 18 points, added six rebounds and blocked three shots in 24 minutes.

And, although it was only a regular-season game, it did put the Celtics into first place temporarily. ("We're Number One," the fans chanted). The next night, in New York, Boston was routed 103-83, and fell back to No. 2 in the division as the Sixers beat the Nets. "It's hard when you played a very tough game the night before," Fitch reasoned Saturday night, "and then have to play a team which was idle the night before and which had lost by 26 two nights before."

Fitch should not have any difficulty getting the Celtics up for a game on Dec. 19: That will be Round 2, in Philadelphia's Spectrum.

http://www.celtic-nation.com/interviews/xavier_mcdaniel/xavier_mcdaniel_page1.htm

Xavier McDaniel: THE X FACTOR

The Xavier McDaniel Interview
By:  Michael D. McClellan | Thursday, May 5^th, 2005

The menacing scowl, shaved head and ripped physique were all a part of an intimidating package, one that helped usher a new, physical breed of player into the NBA.  Some might argue that the arrival of Xavier McDaniel, circa 1985 via the league’s inaugural Draft Lottery, marked the beginning of the end of the NBA’s Golden Era, this at a time when offenses actually flowed the way James Naismith intended, and when 100-point games were a common occurrence for most every team this side of the Los Angeles Clippers.  Isolation plays, these same naysayers are quick to point out, became all the rage during this period in the league’s evolution, providing a death knell to any semblance of movement in the traditional half court offense.  Conspiracy theorists are quick to blame a whole host of other problems on players like McDaniel, from baggy shorts to the current Streetball phenomenon, and, perhaps worst of all, to an obsession with body art, gold chains and rap music – essentially all that is at the heart of North America’s urban hip-hop culture.

Regardless of what one thinks, Xavier McDaniel was much more than a gangsta-thug who played a role in opening the NBA’s door to rappers such as Jay-Z and Nelly.  McDaniel – known as ‘X-man’, or simply ‘X’  to basketball fans the world over – was a groundbreaker in a more fundamental way, becoming the first player in collegiate history to lead the nation in scoring and rebounding in the same season.  It was a headline-grabbing accomplishment, one that brought national exposure to both McDaniel and his school, Wichita State University, and one that set the stage for a long and successful NBA career.

The story, of course, doesn’t start here.  It starts years earlier, in the south, where a young Xavier McDaniel had barely a passing interest in the game of basketball.  Growing up in Columbia, South Carolina, McDaniel subscribed to his state’s dual passions of football and baseball, playing both while dreaming of being the next Walter Payton or Reggie Jackson.  Hoops were reserved for the playground, for pickup games that helped pass the time and keep McDaniel out of trouble.  He caught an occasional NBA game on television, admiring the play of stars like Bobby Dandridge, Elvin Hayes and Wes Unseld, but back then the league struggled to find a national viewing audience.  Football and baseball, by contrast, were featured regularly on the three major networks.  And basketball?  It was usually tape-delayed, and played long after young Xavier had gone to bed.  So he dreamed, as most kids his age, of making a fingertip catch to win the Super Bowl, or of hitting that bases loaded, bottom-of-the-ninth home run to win the World Series.

Height was another factor in McDaniel’s decision to play other sports.  Only 5'-10" in the eighth grade – and rail thin – McDaniel was still years away from the chiseled frame that would intimidate so many players in the NBA.  Today it is hard to imagine a skinny Xavier McDaniel, more Jimmy “Dyn-o-mite!" Walker than Mr. T, but back then he wasn’t going to dominate the low post.   A stunning metamorphosis was about to occur, however, as McDaniel grew six inches by the time he entered A.C. Flora High School.  He also hit the weights during this time, bulking up and adding much-needed muscle.  The coaching staff saw a raw player with star potential.  They convinced McDaniel to try out for the team, and he found himself not only playing competitive basketball, but also starting – and dominating – by the end of his sophomore season.

Still, Rough times lay ahead.  McDaniel was a poor student, rarely doing homework and routinely falling behind in his studies.  His grades were so bad that he was ruled academically ineligible to play basketball as a junior.  It was a crushing blow at the time, but also a defining moment for McDaniel.  He used the episode as motivation, both in the classroom and on the basketball court, remaking himself into a true student-athlete.  Fueled by a mixture of anger and embarrassment, McDaniel returned for his senior season and led A.C. Flora to the state championship.  He was the star on a team that produced four Division I college players, including Tyrone Corbin, who would go on to play for nine NBA teams in sixteen seasons.  X averaged 18.8 points and 14.4 rebounds for the A.C. Flora blowout juggernaut, while logging barely more than two quarters per game.

McDaniel was suddenly a major college prospect, and he wanted to stay home and play for South Carolina.  Unfortunately, the school had used its allotment of scholarships, leaving McDaniel without a team.  There were other suitors, and McDaniel narrowed his choice to two of the most unlikely destinations – Memphis State and Wichita State.  He visited both, and came away torn between the two.  At the last moment, and for reasons unknown even to him, McDaniel selected the urban-based school half a country away.  The decision proved to be a wise one:  McDaniel had a stellar collegiate career at Wichita State, becoming the first player in NCAA history to lead the nation in both scoring and rebounding in the same season.  Only three others have done so since.  He also led the nation in rebounding twice, and in the process was named a consensus All-American.   By the time his college career was over, McDaniel had elevated himself into the upper echelon of the inaugural NBA Draft Lottery.

The 1985 NBA Draft was, in the eyes of many, a one-man show.  Georgetown’s Patrick Ewing was the most dominating player to come out of college in many years, a franchise player capable of instantly transforming a struggling franchise into a perennial contender.  As such, every team in the lottery wanted Ewing.  He was the talk of the draft, and everyone else was considered a cut below the Georgetown All-America.  Not that is was a bad draft; there was plenty of talent, but there were simply few can't-miss projections beyond Ewing.  Karl Malone was taken by Utah with the thirteenth pick, behind such names as Jon Koncak, Joe Kleine and Kenny Green.  McDaniel, for his part, arrived at Madison Square Garden on draft day wide-eyed and nervous, unsure as to when his name would be called.  He watched as Ewing made his way to the podium to shake Commissioner David Stern's hand, followed in short-order by Wayman Tisdale and Benoit Benjamin.  Finally, McDaniel’s angst came to an end, as his name was called by Stern on behalf of the Seattle Supersonics.

McDaniel and Ewing, practically strangers before the draft, forged a lasting friendship during the Draft Lottery.  They remain close today.

“We’re like brothers,” McDaniel says, smiling.  “He was the guy I turned to for advice when I signed my contract with Boston.  We’re always in touch.”

The Sonics expected big things from its new forward, and McDaniel impressed almost from the start.  He worked hard all summer, and played well when training camp began later that fall.  Like his good friend Ewing, McDaniel’s preparation turned him into an instant success.  He averaged 17.1 points and 8.0 rebounds as a starter during his rookie season.  He was also named first-team All-Rookie and Basketball Digest co-Rookie of the Year, sharing the latter honor Karl Malone.

McDaniel quickly became a fan favorite.  With his shaved head and intimidating scowl, McDaniel’s presence helped remake the pushover Sonics into a much more physical team.  And while he rarely smiled during games, Xavier could hardly contain his joy when away from the court.  Who could blame him?  The man who grew up idolizing Dr. J was suddenly competing against him.  The man who once fantasized about being Dandridge, Hayes and Unseld was playing in some of the same venues.

The Sonics improved during McDaniel's second season in the league, shocking the heavily favored Dallas Mavericks in the first round of the playoffs.  He turned in a 29-point gem in the deciding game.  The once-downtrodden Sonics were now building on the foundation of McDaniel, sharpshooter Dale Ellis, and the versatile Tom Chambers.  All three players would average more than 20 points-per-game during that 1986-87 season, a feat that they would duplicate a year later.  He averaged 23.0 ppg and 8.6 rpg that second season, followed by 21.4 ppg and 6.6 rpg a year later.  But when he finished with averages of 20.5 ppg and 5.4 rpg during the 1988-89 season, it became the opinion of some within Sonic management that the team had slipped.  There were trade rumors – X was clearly one of Seattle’s most marketable players – followed by denials, as the Sonics stayed pat.  A year later McDaniel’s numbers were up modestly, to 21.3 ppg and 6.5 rpg.  Still, the team as a whole was spinning its wheels, unable to make major strides in the playoffs.  Ownership demanded that changes be made.  Chambers was eventually moved, and Shawn Kemp was drafted in the first round of the 1989 NBA Draft.  McDaniel’s days in a Sonic uniform were numbered.

McDaniel played fifteen games for the Sonics during the 1990-91 season, before being traded to Phoenix.  X proved less than a perfect fit for a Suns team that boasted Kevin Johnson, Chambers, Jeff Hornacek and Dan Majerle, and the following season found himself paired with good pal Ewing in New York.  With a formidable frontline of Ewing, McDaniel and Charles Oakley, the Pat Riley-coached Knicks won 51 games before meeting Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls in the Eastern Conference Semifinals.  The intense series went the distance, with Jordan & Co. prevailing in the seventh game.

McDaniel:  "There ain't very many games that I said I couldn't get up and walk away from, but I was so sore after that one.  It was so physical.  It was a brutal war out there – the whole series was like that – but I felt like we should have won that series.  We lost Game 1 in Chicago, but came back and took Game 2.  Patrick had an unbelievable game.  I just felt like we had championship potential, but we didn't get the job done when it counted.  The Bulls won the series, and went on to win it all."

A contract dispute ended McDaniel's stay in New York after one season, and the unrestricted free agent was available to any team interested in his services.  The Boston Celtics wasted little time making contact with the one-time rebounding king from Wichita State.  The team liked his toughness, and desperately needed to fill the void created by Larry Bird’s retirement.  McDaniel played three seasons for the Celtics, this at a time when the franchise was going through significant transition and tragedy.  In addition to Bird’s exit, the remaining members of the Big Three – Kevin McHale and Robert Parish – were in serious decline.  Reggie Lewis, the team’s newly anointed captain, would die of a heart attack following the 1992-93 season.  It was a difficult three years for both McDaniel and the Celtics.  He played hard, but the team was in constant flux.  His skills were also on the downward slide, and in 1994-95 McDaniel registered career lows in games (68), points (11.3) and rebounds (4.4).  Still, McDaniel’s contributions to the team remain admired by many.  He was member of the last team to play in the fabled Boston Garden, and one of the last to play on the original parquet floor.  He was a positive influence to the young players, both on and off of the court.  He helped his teammates deal with the tragic death of Lewis, one of the most popular players in club history.

McDaniel played two more seasons following his stint with Boston, both with the New Jersey Nets, before retiring 20 games into the 1997-98 campaign.  By then the league had become a far different place than it had been during McDaniel’s 1985 rookie season..  Dr. J was long gone, and both Bird and Magic were well into retirement.  Michael Jordan was putting the capstone on a remarkable career, driving the Bulls toward a sixth NBA championship.  Shorts were no longer short, tattoos were everywhere, and the players looked as if they had been transported from the NFL’s gridiron to the NBA’s hardwood.  Hip-hop and gangsta-rap dominated locker rooms league-wide.  McDaniel, of course, could be accused of starting any – or all – of these trends.  He was tough, gritty, and ultra-urban.  He played hard.  He intimidated.  He personified the street.  But before you vilify McDaniel for any of this, remember that he played the game the way his idols had years earlier.  Like Unseld, Dandridge and Hayes before him, X brought honor to his sport by busting his butt and battling under the boards, something that has been going on since the league was formed way back in 1946.

Celtic Nation is pleased to bring you this interview.

CELTIC-NATION
You were born on June 4th, 1963 in Columbia, South Carolina.  Take me back in time – what was it like to be Xavier McDaniel as a child?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
I’m the oldest of six kids.  I have four sisters and one brother – Berline, Tracey, Wendy, Marva, and Carnlius.  I’ve always been interested in basketball.  When I was young I always played it, although I didn’t play organized basketball until about the seventh grade.  Up until then it was always in the street.  In the seventh grade I played for the Ben Arnold Boys Club in Columbia, South Carolina.  That same year I got cut from the eighth grade team – the coach didn’t take seventh graders.  You could go out, but he would tell you, ‘You’re probably gonna get cut if you’re a seventh grader, but if you want to go out for the team, then I gotta let you go out because those are the rules.’ [Laughs].  So he cut me, and I tried out with the Boys Club.  That’s when I got my first MVP trophy – that was in 1976 – and I started playing from there.

I played organized baseball and football from the age of eight years old.  Back then, basketball to me was just a hobby, because you either played baseball or football in the State of South Carolina.  Basketball was just something to do in my spare time.  When I was in the eighth grade I was only 5’10”, but I ended up growing from 5’10” to 6”7”.

CELTIC-NATION
You played high school ball at A.C. Flora.  The school had one of the best records in the state during your senior season, with three players going on to play Division I college basketball.  What stands out most about your high school career at A.C. Flora?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
I went through some hard times in high school.  I wasn’t doing my schoolwork, and I wasn’t doing the things necessary to be a student-athlete.  I had a very good coach, and I thank God that I had him as a coach, because he could have been one of those coaches who kept his players eligible just to win basketball games.  He told me that if I wanted to play on his team, then I had to do my schoolwork.

Basically I was on the team as a freshman, just playing scrub minutes, and then I was a starter as a sophomore.  I didn’t play during my junior year because of my grades.  I came back for my senior year mad, because I knew that I should have been a starter.  I knew that I should have been on the All-Area Team, because at fifteen years old I was already a star in Columbia, South Carolina.  Not being able to play my junior year motivated me, and was probably the reason I was able to have a senior season equal to any player in the state.  I could match my stats up with anyone my senior year.  I didn’t average a lot of points, but we had a lot of blowouts.  We had Tyrone Corbin, who I think you’re probably familiar with.  We always used to say that we wanted the game over in the first quarter, so a lot of times we would only play the first and third quarter.  My stats were a little misleading because of all the blowouts.  I averaged 18.8 points-per-game, and 14.4 rebounds-per-game, but, like I said, those numbers were only over two quarters.

We went on to win the state championship that season, and I was the MVP of the All-Star Game.  I didn’t win the MVP award from the city – they gave that to another guy.  He went to USC.  He ended up being a good friend of mine, and whenever I see him I ask him if he still has my trophy [laughs].

We had a bunch of players go on to play Division I basketball.  James Hillabran went to the University of Wisconsin.  Robert Brannon played at Kent State.  Tyrone went to DePaul.  I went to Wichita State.  Tony Ashley went to South Carolina State, and Tony Snooks went to Southern Illinois.  Me, Snooks and Tyrone won it all during our senior season – as a matter of fact, Snooks is Troy Hudson’s stepfather.  Troy played at Southern Illinois in the mid-90s, and now plays guard for the Minnesota Timberwolves.  But we didn’t win the state championship my junior year.  That’s the year we should have won it easily; we had a lot of blowouts, but the point guard got hurt and we only had one other point guard on the team.  We didn’t have anybody to distribute the basketball.  Same thing happened a year later.  We started my senior season 0-3, basically because we were playing point guard by committee.  That’s when we went and got one of my other friends from the neighborhood, and we said, ‘Look man, we need you.’  And after he joined the team, I think we ended up going 22-0.  We only lost one more game after that 0-3 start, and we won the state championship.

CELTIC-NATION
Growing up, you idolized players such as Dr. J., Bob "Greyhound" Dandridge, Wes Unseld, Elvin Hayes and Bobby Jones.  Please tell me a little about each of these men – what parts of their game did you admire most?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
You must have been doing your homework, because those are my men right there!  As a player, I took a little something from all of those guys.  Dr. J – I just wanted his jumping ability.  Bobby Dandridge had the turnaround jump shot.  Bobby and Big E [Elvin Hayes] both had that turnaround jumper.  I started studying that shot, and I decided that I was going to master it.  Bobby Dandridge used to shoot it when he was with the Washington Bullets and Milwaukee Bucks.  The Big E – he used to get on that box, and then turn around and shoot on it.  It was unstoppable.  Wes Unseld was the rebounder.  Him, and my man Moses Malone.  Those were my guys as far as rebounding the basketball.  They were the ones I idolized in high school and college.  I can remember Moses telling everyone that all he did was rebound.  That’s all he wanted to talk about.  Wes Unseld was known equally for his rebounding, but he was also the master of the outlet pass.  He would start the fast break.  A lot of people don’t believe me, but if you go back and look, I was probably the second best outlet passer in the history of college basketball.  I think Wes Unseld was the best, and I think I rank second best behind him.  I could throw the two-hand outlet, or I could throw the one-hand baseball pass.  And I could throw it on the money.  Guys would break out, and I would hit them on the money.  As for Bobby Jones, I admired his defense.  I didn’t get a lot of credit for my defense, but I feel that I was a very good defensive player over the course of my career.  For some reason I just didn’t get credit for my defense.

Like I said, you must have done your homework, because those are the guys that I’ve talked about.  When it came to basketball, I just didn’t play it; I tried to sit back and study the game, too, and pick up as much as possible.  And I tell people, my game is patterned after a whole lot of players.  When Michael Jordan started shooting that turnaround jumper, people made a big deal out of it.  But I was shooting that shot in college, and during my rookie year in the pros.  Mike didn’t start shooting the turnaround jump shot until late in his career.  He was a dunker first.  Today, the Big Dog – Glen Robinson – uses it a little bit.  Believe it or not, I first started shooting that shot as a kid.  Over time, I was able to watch guys like Bobby Dandridge, and I was able to perfect it.  I still tell people today, that if I have a chance to warm up, I can still make eight out of ten shots like that – as long as there’s no defense [laughs].

Another person who I borrowed from, but haven’t really talked about a lot, is Mike Mitchell.  If you watch some of my moves, when I start one way and then step back, I picked that up from Mike.  In college I just used to turn and shoot, but when I first entered the league I watched the way Mike Mitchell moved – and not only when I was guarding him on the court.  I studied him from the bench.  That was when he played for the San Antonio Spurs.  And he just blew me away.  He’d go right, and then they’d bump him and he’d stop, turn and go the other way.  So one day I just went out and worked on that shot.  That became a patented shot of mine.  Before, I would just get it and then turn and shoot.  Or maybe fade away.  That’s what Bobby Dandridge and the Big E used to do.  And then one day we just happened to be playing against San Antonio, and I was just blown away by what Mike Mitchell could do.  So he helped take my game to a new level.  From then on I was able to face up, and then have another move ready when my opponent started crowding me.  I could act like I was going to drive, and then when they cut me off I could stop and take the shot.  If you go back and watch some of the tapes of Mike Mitchell, and his turnaround jump shot, the way he would drive one way and spin back…if you cut him off going to the right, he would come back toward the lane and shoot the fade away jumper.  If he was driving left and you cut him off, he would come back toward the baseline and shoot it.  So I picked up that part of my game from Sam Mitchell.

CELTIC-NATION
Let's talk college.  What led you to choose Wichita State?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
I signed a letter of intent to play at Wichita State, and I stayed there for four years.  I was almost set to sign with South Carolina, and one day I opened up the paper, and I saw where USC had signed six guys.  They didn’t have anymore scholarships.  At that time, I had struggled through two years of high school.  I didn’t struggle because I didn’t know the material, I struggled because I didn’t do the work.  Half of the time I didn’t go to class, and half of the time I didn’t do the work that was required.  Like I said, my high school coach benched me during my junior year, and during the last half of my junior year I started to turn things around.  By the end of my senior year I had pulled my GPA up to a 2.4, but USC used the excuse that I wasn’t getting my work done, and that if I went straight there I would probably flunk out.  That’s when they started talking about prep school.  And I was like, ‘Well, if you wanted me to go to prep school, then why didn’t you say that from day one?  You knew my situation.’  Entering my senior year I had a 1.9 GPA, and the coaches at USC knew that.  And if they didn’t want me to go to prep school then, why did they want me to go after I’d worked hard, done the work, and brought my GPA up to a respectable number?  Just shoot straight with me.  Once the school did that, I decided to go in another direction.  My high school coach told me that I should have gone on some recruiting trips, because I had only take one recruiting trip, and that was to Ole Miss.  I did not like Ole Miss, so I didn’t take any other trips.  I was planning on going to USC.

Well, I went on some recruiting trips after I saw those signings in the paper.  I went to Clemson on a recruiting trip, I went to Memphis State, and I went to Wichita State.  This was in April of 1981.  And when I went out Wichita, the coach asked me if I liked to dunk.  I told him I loved to dunk.  He asked if I could handle the ball.  I told him I loved to dribble, but that my high school coach didn’t like me to dribble the ball a lot.  And then he said that he liked a five-man fast break, and that if his big men could handle the rock they could keep it.  And then he started showing me ally-oops, and I was just blown away.  Wichita State just looked like a fun place to play.

I didn’t sign immediately.  I went to Memphis State and did some illegal stuff from a recruiting standpoint – I’m sure it was a recruiting violation, but I didn’t have anything to do, and the guys took me to the gym and I played in a pickup game with the team.  I didn’t know it then, but I wasn’t supposed to do that.  The guys went back and told Dana Kirk, ‘ Man, this cat can play.’  Dana Kirk ask me if I was going to South Carolina.  I told him that I hadn’t made up my mind.  So they pursued me.  For the most part, it all came down to my comfort level.  Wichita State ran the ball.  Memphis State ran the ball.  I knew that South Carolina was out of the picture.  And then rumors got out that I was going to Clemson, and then USC turned around at the last minute and tried to offer me a scholarship.  It was tempting, because I’m a very big South Carolina fan – football and basketball.

It just got to the point where I had to make the decision.  I didn’t settle on a school until a couple of days before my birthday, in June.  Memphis State felt like a good fit.  Wichita State was the same.  And then one night I told my brother that I was going to Kansas.  He asked if I was sure I wanted to go all of the way out there.  The next day it was Memphis State.  It just kept going back and forth, and then one day I just stuck with it.  I told him that I was going to Wichita State.  The next day I signed.

CELTIC-NATION
You were a consensus All-America at Wichita State.  You were the first player in NCAA history to lead the nation in both scoring and rebounding in the same season.  You led the nation in rebounding twice.  Of all these collegiate accomplishments, which means the most to you, and why?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
When I tell you this, you probably won’t believe it.  I know I made history with the scoring and rebounding  titles, but it never really meant a lot to me because I didn’t win the NCAA championship.  I believe that, one of these days, what I did in college is probably going to get me into the hall-of-fame.  At least that’s what I think.  I was one of 46 players to score 2,000 points in a collegiate career.  I had over 1,000 rebounds.  I don’t know where I rank now, but at one time I was the second all-time leading rebounder in college basketball history.  I was second only to Wes Unseld.  He had over 1,500 and I had 1,359.  So I feel that what I did in college will probably get me into the hall-of-fame.  But I didn’t win a championship.  I won a Missouri Valley Conference championship, and a conference tournament championship, but I wasn’t able win the big one.  Individual goals and accomplishments are okay, but they will probably mean more to my kids than they will ever mean to me.

I was talking to a friend the other day, and I realized that I’ve been out of basketball for eight years.  Eight years!  It also reminded me that I didn’t win a championship at the college and pro level.  I’m happy with the way my career went – I put up some MVP numbers in NBA, even though I didn’t win an MVP award – but at the same time I’m sad because I didn’t win a championship.  It doesn’t belittle what type of player I was, it’s just that I don’t have that ring to show that I was a part of championship team.  I’ve got trophies from my time in the NBA – I was the league’s Player of the Month twice.  I’ve got a lot of those types of things.  I’ve got awards for my involvement in the community.  And like I said, those things will probably mean more to my children.  But for me, I will always choose team goals over individual goals.  Those are more important to me.


 

CELTIC-NATION
The NBA instituted the Draft Lottery in 1985.You were the fourth overall selection in that draft, by the Seattle Supersonics.  How has the draft changed since '85, and what were your thoughts about being drafted by the Sonics?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
I was just happy, man.  Patrick was sitting there – the chairs were in line, right there in Madison Square Garden, and Patrick’s name was called first.  Wayman Tisdale’s name was called second.  Benoit Benjamin was third, and I was sitting right there next to Benoit Benjamin.  I was like, ‘Oh please call my name – please call my name.’  Because I didn’t want to be sitting there all alone.  We all went in order.  When David Stern called my name I was just thankful.  I was thankful that I was able to do something for my family, and I’m not talking about me personally.  People who know me, they know that I’ll come to the gym with some jeans and sneakers on.  Nothing fancy.  But it meant a lot to take care of my family, and to be able to do something that I loved.  If my back and knees didn’t always hurt, I’d probably be doing it for free right now [laughs].  Playing NBA basketball was something that I would have done for free anyhow.

Still, basketball wasn’t always my first love.  Baseball was my first love.  Football was my second love, as far as actually playing, but it was probably my first love as far as watching.  You know how they say, ‘I don’t like this record, but it grew on me.’  That’s how basketball was for me, because I was more of a football player, or a baseball player.  If you would go to my neighborhood and talk to some of the people there, they would tell you that they thought I was going to be a baseball player.  I was pitcher.  I was a catcher.  I played first base.  I could play all of the positions, and I hit for power and average.  But I ended up growing tall.  So basketball kind of grew on me, and it grew on me to a point that I started loving it.  Now I think it’s the best game.  But as a kid it was just something to do.  Down here, you had to play football.  I promise you.  There is no father who doesn’t have his son on the football field [laughs].  They play on Sunday, and the stands are packed – it looks like there’s an NFL game going on [laughs].  Football is loved down here.  South Carolina went 0-11 in Lou Holtz’s first year down here, and there would be 83,000 people at the game.  Every game.


 

CELTIC-NATION
You were an instant success, averaging 17.1 points and 8.0 rebounds as a starter during his rookie season.  You were also named first-team All-Rookie, while Basketball Digest magazine named you co-Rookie of the Year.  What are some of the things that stand out in your mind about your first season in the NBA?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
I won the Basketball Digest co-Rookie of the Year with Karl Malone, and I won the Seagram’s NBA Rookie of the Year Award outright – I have a silver plate for winning that.  And Patrick won the NBA Rookie of the Year Award.  I tell Patrick all the time to give me my damn trophy back [laughs].  He only played 50 games that year, and I played the whole season.  Patrick and I are very good friends – we talk about once or twice a month – and when we talk I always tease him about winning that award.  He’ll laugh and say, ‘Well, I put up numbers.’  And I’ll say, ‘Yeah, but you only did it for 50 games – I did it for 82 games, and that means I had 32 more chances to mess up.’  We joke a lot about that, but Patrick was a big superstar.  He deserved the award, but I tell him that one of these days I’m gonna steal that trophy from him [laughs].

 CELTIC-NATION
You came into the league during the Golden Age of Basketball, with Larry Bird and Magic Johnson in their prime, and a young Michael Jordan on the rise.  What was it like to face each of these players for the first time?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
I had already played against Michael Jordan in the Pan-Am tryouts – we we were on the same team.  So I was more afraid of Bird and Dr. J.  When I went to Philadelphia, I was like, ‘Man, that’s Doc!’  So I asked the ball boy to go get Dr. J’s autograph.  And then, in the game Doc goes up over me for an ally-oop dunk.  It blew me away.  Even at his age, the guy could still jump.  He was probably a fifteen year veteran at that point in his career.

And then I went up against Larry Legend that first year.  I said to myself, ‘Well, he can’t do anything more to me than he’s done to everybody else.’  Sure enough, he went out and torched me, too [laughs].  I remember a game, before Larry started having all of those back problems, and he was going up against Shawn Kemp.  Larry had something like 40 points, 15 rebounds, and 15 assists.  And he told Shawn Kemp, ‘I’m the best fucking player to ever play this game.’  And then he shot a three-pointer right in Shawn Kemp’s face.  And I looked at Larry and thought, ‘You conceited bastard.’  But I looked forward to playing against guys like Larry, and James Worthy, because they forced you to be on top of your game.  If you weren’t, then they were going to abuse you.

Today, you don’t always see the best players guarding each other.  But when I played, I guarded Mike Mitchell.  I guarded James Worthy.  I guarded Larry Bird, and Kevin McHale.  I guarded Charles Barkley, who was one tough mother.  Now, a lot of times teams will try to protect their scorer.  Back then, nobody could protect you, because guys were very skilled on both ends of the court.  That’s the biggest difference between today’s kids and yesterday’s players.  That’s the only thing – these kids today can play.  It’s just that their skill level ain’t as good as the older players.  If you watch a game today, you’ll see ESPN and TNT talk about how hot a player is during a game.  And he may have only made 2 shots altogether.  When I played, you were considered hot when you made six or seven shots in a row.  You watch the ESPN highlights, and you think a guy was in the zone.  You say, ‘Damn, he was killin’.’  And then you go look at the box score, and he was 7-for-25.

When I played, you didn’t have guys jumping directly from high school to the pros.  That’s one reason we were more skillful.  Dr. J, Larry Bird and Magic Johnson made an immediate impact on their teams, but they went to college before turning pro.  There ain’t one kid coming out of high school to make that kind of difference, except LeBron James.  And LeBron is a special case.  Even Kevin Garnett struggled to put up numbers during his rookie season – he averaged under 11 points-per-game.

So for most players dreaming of the NBA, college is the best place to prepare.  In the pros, you play so many games once the season starts that it’s hard to practice.  Think about it:  If you’re on an east coast team and you make one of those brutal trips out west, when are you going to have time to practice?  The travel schedule is crazy.  During the course of a week you look at your schedule and it says game, game, day off, game, game, day off, game.  You don’t have time to practice.  College gives you that time to practice and prepare.  For the average player jumping from high school to the pros, it takes four or five years to really put it all together.  And then you don’t know if the motivation is there, because they’ve already got their money.  When I’m sitting around with my friends, drinking a cold beer and watching an NBA game on TV, I always tell them that I wouldn’t last as a NBA general manger because I wouldn’t draft a high school kid.  I’d probably get fired [laughs].  Not that the kid couldn’t play.  But nine times out of ten, he would stay with my team just long enough to sign a free agent deal somewhere else.  Either that, or I’d be forced to trade him, like the Trailblazers did with Jermaine O’Neal.  That’s a prime example.  He barely played for Portland after coming directly out of high school, and then he moved on to Indiana and became an All-Star.  My friends will say, ‘What about you, X?  You played five years for the Sonics and then they traded you to Phoenix.’  And I say, ‘Yeah, but they got something out of me.’  And they did.  They got a lot out of me.  They got over 8,000 points, and over 3,000 rebounds.  What did Portland get out of Jermaine O’Neal while he was there?

CELTIC-NATION
During your second season in the league, the Sonics shocked the NBA by upsetting the highly favored Dallas Mavericks in the 1987 NBA Playoffs.  You scored 29 points in the clinching game four win.  Please take me back to that series.

XAVIER MCDANIEL
They beat the hell out of us in Game 1.  They beat us by 35 points that night.  We went back and watched the film – Mark Aguirre was killing me.  And when I say he was killing me, Mark Aguirre was the bully, and I was the nerd that he slapped around and stole lunch money from.  So we changed our strategy.  We put Tom Chambers on Aguirre, and I guarded Sam Perkins because I was a better trapper than Tom.  Half of the time I’d be waiting on the trap, and Tom never would get down to help out.  So we switched assignments, and we trapped Aguirre every time he touched the basketball.  It took him completely out of the game, because he was so unselfish that he would just give up the ball.  Once we realized that he was going to keep giving it up, and not even try to get around us or look to score, then we just kept doing it.  So that forced everybody else to score.  I think I had 28 points in Game 2, and I fouled out.  Dale Ellis got fouled coming off the baseline and hit two big free throws to put us up with two seconds left.  That gave us the split in Dallas.

I didn’t have a particularly good game in Game 3 – I think I was 4-for-14 from the field, but it didn’t matter because we won the game in a blowout.  We had to make adjustments in that game as well, because Nate McMillan was having all kind of trouble with Derek Harper.  Derek Harper was the other bully, beating up the other nerd.  It was so bad that Nate couldn’t even bring the ball up the court.  So they would pass me the ball, and I would bring it up the court and pass it off to Nate.  I was used to dribbling.  I could handle the ball.  And that strategy did two things; it took the pressure off of Nate, and it put pressure on Mark Aguirre.  Mark was a big man – 240 pounds – and he wasn’t used to pressuring the ball up the court.  So that took it’s toll on him.  Wore him down.  I became a point forward, so to speak, and this was years before you heard people using that term.  But it worked.  Derek Harper had Nate so shook up.  Nate and I took a look of the blame in Game 1, when the Mavericks kicked our ass, so it was good to turn the tables around on Mark Aguirre and Derek Harper.

I knew I was going to have a good Game 4, because I had a lot of bounce in my legs.  I got to the arena earlier than normal – three hours instead of two – and I started shooting with one of the assistant coaches, Tom Newell.  And I was hitting seven and eight in a row before I missed one.  That was every time.  I took close to 100 shots, and I probably made 90 of them.  And I said, ‘Hold up, I’m shooting too fuckin’ good.  I want to save some of this for the game.’  And I shot the hell out of it that night.  The final score was 124-98, and it was one of the biggest wins in the history of the franchise.  It was definitely the biggest win since the Sonics won it all in 1979.  It was also a high-water mark in a way, because the team slowly started going downhill after that.

CELTIC-NATION
You were traded to the Phoenix Suns on December 7th, 1990.  How hard was it to leave the team you called your own for more than five seasons, and what was like starting over in Phoenix?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
It wasn’t a tough adjustment.  Tom Chambers was in Phoenix, and he used to pick me up every day on the way to practice.  The media would always start stuff, and write stuff, but me and Tom never had a problem.  We may have had a problem on the court from time-to-time, but that’s only natural.  Larry Bird and Kevin McHale used to have those type of on-court problems.  You aren’t always gong to agree with what I do, and I’m not always going to agree with what you do.  But me and Tom got along very, very well.  When I got to Phoenix he just opened his arms to me.  It just wasn’t a good fit on the court, because I was used to being a primary option – in other words, I was equal to Tom Chambers and Dale Ellis in our offensive schemes.  The three of us averaged over 20 points-per-game in the same season.  It worked because the coach did differentiate.  While Tom and Dale might get the majority of the plays called, I was still free to do my thing.  If I got the rebound, I could bring the ball up the court.  Or if got open, I could take my shot.  It the shot was there, and not forced, then I had the green light to shoot all night long.

When I got to Phoenix, they basically put me out there and told me to shoot jump shots.  And that’s what I did.  The rest of the time it was Tom and Kevin Johnson running screen-and-rolls.  If you watch tape of the games back then, you’d see Tom and Kevin doing their thing on the screen-and-rolls, you’d see Mark West slashing to the basket, and you’d see Jeff Hornacek up top, shooting the three.  Then, you’d see me in the corner shooting jumpers.  That wasn’t my game.  I wasn’t a spot-up shooter.  It detracted from my strength – I was more of a slashing rebounder.  I was better going to the glass and battling for the ball.  Even at that, I think I averaged 15.8 points-per-game and over 7 rebounds-per-game.  So I think I fit in well, but I felt like I was limited in what I could do.  They didn’t want me to get the rebound, come up the court and take my man to the hoop.  They wanted me to kick it to Kevin Johnson and let him go one-on-one. 

I finished the season in Phoenix, but that was it for me.  Pat Riley had just signed to take over the New York Knicks, and I think Pat Riley talked to Jerry Colangelo and Cotton Fitzsimmons.  Basically, he told them that I would be a better fit in New York.  So I guess they worked something out.  I got back to Phoenix following a trip – my girlfriend and I had been driving, and we were going through some places where the phone didn’t work that well.  Jerry and Cotton were looking for me.  I explained that I’d just gotten back into town.  They sat me down and told me that I’d been traded.  I made a couple of phone calls, and then I jumped on a plane and flew to New York.

 CELTIC-NATION
You played in New York during the 1991-92 season, winning 51 games and beating the Bad Boys of Detroit in the opening round of the playoffs.  Next came a Game 7 loss to the Chicago Bulls.  Just how intense was that series?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
Very intense.  There aren’t very many games that I’ve said I couldn’t get up and walk away from, but it was a brutal war out there.  It was such a physical game.  It was a series that we should have won.  We went into Chicago, had a sixteen point lead, and lost Game 1.  We jumped on them in Game 2, but we were able to hang on for the win.  Patrick Ewing had an unbelievable game.  At that time, I just felt that we had the best frontline in basketball.  Ain’t no doubt about it, I would have taken Patrick Ewing over any center out there at that time.  I loved The Dream [Hakeem Olajuwon] – he was a great guy.  But I love Patrick Ewing.  I’ve always thought of him as the best of his generation.  And then we had Charles Oakley and myself.  So I think we had the best frontline in the NBA.  And we had other parts, too.  We had Mark Jackson, Gerald Wilkins, and John Starks.  I just thought we had championship potential.  Even in training camp I could tell that this was the most talented team that I’d ever been on.  Gerald Wilkins could shoot, but he could play defense.  Mark Jackson – everybody talked about how slow he was, but he was smart and he played defense.  Oakley played defense.  Patrick and I played defense.  And we held a lot of teams under their scoring average, but we didn’t get the job done against Chicago.

It was a disappointing season in a lot of respects, especially when you looked at talent on that team.  I got caught up in a contract squabble in January of that 1991-92 regular season, and the team basically stopped playing me.  They cut my minutes way down.  We had a twelve game lead on Boston at that point in time, and management was sure that we were going to win the Atlantic Division.  There was just over twenty games left, and I think Larry Bird and the Celtics went 20-for-21 over that stretch.  They were hot, and they ended up winning the division.  During this time the Knicks were forced to play me despite the contract issue.  Back then we played five games against Boston, and they won all three in the Boston Garden.  They won the series and the division, even though both teams won 51 games that year.  I felt we should have won the division hands down, but Ernie Grunfeld and Dave Checkett let my contract get in the way.

I was the second player in NBA history to implement a contract buyout – Adrian Dantley was the first.  When I bought my contract out, the Knicks just stopped playing me.  My average dropped from 18 points-per-game to 13.  The Knicks kept trying to work on another contract, but I told them I’d wait and try free agency.  Anyway, I think that some of this was a distraction to the team – not to take anything away from Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls, because they won the series on the court.  It was just unfortunate timing.

CELTIC-NATION
From New York it was on to Boston, during some of the darkest days in franchise history.  Following a 48-34 regular season, the Celtics lost 3-1 against the young Charlotte Hornets.  Tragedy would strike later that summer, as Reggie Lewis collapsed and died from a heart attack.  Please tell me about Reggie the person, and Reggie the basketball player.

XAVIER MCDANIEL
Very good person.  Me and Reggie would eat dinner together on the road.  He was a great guy.  I’d go to his room and talk to him, and we really got along great.  My girlfriend at the time, Michelle, invited Reggie and his wife down to South Carolina for my thirtieth birthday party.  That was in June of ‘93, and Reggie died at the end of July.  He was a great leader – when they took me out of the starting lineup, Reggie stood beside me and lobbied for them to put me back into the starting lineup.  That meant a lot, because it was my first year with the Boston Celtics and I was the new guy on the block.  I told Chris Ford that I didn’t mind coming off of the bench – I’m a team player – but Reggie was my advocate.  Reggie and I also worked well together; we had a play we called ‘2-Turnover-3’.  If he went over the top I’d look to get him the ball, or if he went to the bottom I’d feed it to him…or he’d fade to the corner.  It just depended on what the defense did.  We had to identify what was going on, because it was just something that the two of us ran.

Reggie was just a great guy – a community-minded guy.  He would get out there, and it didn’t matter what it was; if someone asked him to help with a worthy cause then Reggie would be right there in the middle of it.  I just sat in bed and cried when I heard the news that he had died.  It hurt a whole lot.  And when I say I sat in my room and cried, I mean it.  I cried for a long time.

CELTIC-NATION
One May 5, 1995 – ten years ago today – you played in the last game ever held in the fabled Boston Garden.  What was it like to play there, and what was the mood like for that last game?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
Let me tell you something:  I loved the fans in the Boston Garden.  I may not have always liked everyone who worked at the Boston Garden, but man, those are the best fans in the world.  I love the Boston Celtic fans.  They supported me like I was there my whole career.  I don’t care what anybody says about the fans in Boston.  People say they’re spoiled with all of those championships, but I wish that I had been able to help them win another title.  And I hope that they end up winning two or three more before I die [laughs].  If you’ve never played for the Celtics you don’t understand.  If you play for another NBA team you just don’t get what the fans in Boston are all about.  I’d go to the games and they’d treat me great.  I’d go out to dinner, or go shopping on Newbury Street, and the fans would just treat me like royalty.  They’d know my situation.  They’d say, ‘I don’t understand why you’re not playing, Mr. McDaniel.  You work so hard!’  Or they’d say, ‘ Give Mr. McDaniel what he wants, and put it on my bill!’  It was like being a rock star [laughs].  Seriously, I got a lot of support.  Basketball-wise, sports-wise, Boston is a great town to play in.  I had a great time there.  I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with Jan Volk and M.L. Carr, but Dave Gavitt was a great guy.  He’s the one who brought me to Boston.  But in the end, it just didn’t work out as far as winning that championship.  I think a lot of that had to do with the death of Reggie Lewis.  It really hurt that franchise.  It was a sad thing, but there is a saying that great people sometimes have to leave this earth a little earlier than others.  I think that was the case with Reggie.

CELTIC-NATION
You played against Bird, and played with the two other members of the Big Three.  What was it like to play with Robert Parish and Kevin McHale?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
I love Robert Parish, man.  He’s a character, and fun to have around.  People will ask why he’s so quiet, and I just tell them that that’s his demeanor.  But he’s the nicest person that you could ever want to meet.  If you ever want to know where you stand with Robert you just go up to him and ask.  If he thinks you’re an asshole, he’ll tell you that you’re an asshole.  But if he really likes you, he will sit down and talk to you for hours on end.

Great competitor.  I used to always mess with him about his stretching.  I’d say, ‘How in the world can your old ass get down there like that?  I’m ten years younger than you and I can’t get down there!’  And he’d say, ‘You’d better stretch, or you’ll feel it when you get old’.  He’s a great guy [laughs].  A true professional.

Kevin McHale – he’s like me.  He’s a clown, who likes to have fun.  He doesn’t take anything serious unless he’s going to play basketball.  Everything’s a joke.  He’d ride the bicycle on Thursday and say, ‘I don’t think I’m going to practice anymore this week.  I’ll probably come back on Monday.’  But me and Kevin are very similar – we don’t get serious about much of anything, unless it’s basketball.  He’s done a great job with Minnesota, so I take my hat off to him.  Robert and Kevin were great teammates.

 CELTIC-NATION
Everyone who has played for the Celtics seems to have a favorite story about the great Red Auerbach.  What was it like to meet him for the first time, and do you have a story that stands out?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
Yes – When I visited Boston as a free agent.  Red laid the numbers out on the table and showed me what they had.  He said, ‘We know you’re worth more than this.  But this is all we’ve got, Xavier.  Being a Celtic is more than money.  And now that we have our offer on the table, you ain’t leaving this room until we have an answer.’  I’ll tell you, I had to ask him to leave the room.  I told him I wanted to make one phone call.  I didn’t want to call my girlfriend.  I didn’t want to call my momma.  I told [agent] David Faulk that I just needed to call one person, because this one person will tell me if I’m gong to sign this contract.  And I called Patrick Ewing.  I said, ‘Man, Red Auerbach has got me cornered in this room.  If you tell me not to sign it, and you tell me to talk to New York again, then I won’t sign it.’  And Patrick more-or-less said, ‘Look, the Knicks know the Celtics want to sign you.  You need to do what’s right for you.’  So Red came back in and said, ‘What are you going to do?’  I told him that I still wasn’t sure, and he said, ‘Well, you’re not leaving this room, big fella, until we have an answer one way or the other.’  I thought about it for ten or fifteen minutes, and then I signed the contract.  He shook my hand and said, ‘Welcome to the Celtics family.  When you become a Celtic, you become a Celtic for life.’  He told me that the door would always be open as long as he was alive.  Red’s a great guy.  I’d always sit down and listen to him when he’d come to practice and tell his stories.  He’d always have advice for me.  I’d listen.  He has a great knowledge of basketball, and he’s been a winner all of his life.  How could you not listen to a guy like him?  So it was cool.  I had a great time with Red, and I had a great time meeting some of the older players that had played for the team, like Bill Russell and Bob Cousy.
 

CELTIC-NATION
Your coach with the Celtics was Chris Ford.  Please tell me a little about Chris.

XAVIER MCDANIEL
Very smart man, good coach.  He was hired with the team in decline – the Big Three were no more, because Bird had retired.  Reggie died after his first year coaching the team.  It was just a bad time to be the coach of the Boston Celtics.  He did the best with what he had, but things were starting to go downhill and the team wasn’t doing a good job of building back through the draft.  They picked some guys that just didn’t work out.  But Chris knows his basketball.  He’s done well with other teams.

CELTIC-NATION
Let's talk life after basketball.  What have you been up to in the years since retiring from the NBA?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
I basically lived off of what I made those first few years.  I didn’t do a whole lot of anything.  I was careful with my money – you ask Robert Parish about me and he’ll say, ‘That cheap bastard!’  [Laughs].  But after basketball I just chilled.  Then I got into buying homes with a friend.  We’d fix them up and resell them.  Then I branched out on my own.  I started building homes – I’ve been doing that for about nine months now.  I’ve got one house up and sold, I’ve got two more that are 95% complete, and I’ve got three more in the works.  Of those three, I’ve got one of them already sold.  I think I’ll do this another eight years before I retire again, which is when I can start collecting that little pension that the NBA gives us.

My company’s name is ’34 X-man’.  I don’t really buy homes and fix them up anymore.  I buy the lots, come in with a crew, and build them from the ground up.  I go into neighborhoods where lots haven’t been built on, and I try to buy those lots.  That’s when I come in with my crew.  We do the foundation, and framing, and everything like that.  I’m enjoying the hell out of it.

CELTIC-NATION
Final Question:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  You are universally respected and admired by many people, both inside and outside of the NBA.  If you could offer one piece of advice on life to others, what would that be?

XAVIER MCDANIEL
Work hard.  Be determined.  Never give up.  It’s easy to give up, but it’s hard to be successful.

http://www.celtic-nation.com/interviews/wayne_embry/wayne_embry_page1.htm

Wayne Embry: CENTRAL CHARACTER

The Wayne Embry Interview
By:  Michael D. McClellan | Monday, January 11^th, 2004

Spend a few minutes talking to Wayne Embry, and it isn’t long before you realize that this former NBA All-Star is far more than a link to the days when legends such as Russell and Chamberlain ruled the basketball universe.  Embry is as relevant now as he was then, only in areas that extend far beyond the hardwood. Backboards have morphed into boardrooms.  Bone-rattling picks have given way to civic stewardship.  From trading elbows with Willis Reed to rubbing elbows with Alan Greenspan, Embry is that rare athlete who has eclipsed his own star power in terms of off-the-court accomplishments.

Born and raised in Ohio, Embry began his basketball career at Tecumseh High School before starring at Miami of Ohio, where his number has long since been retired.  As a pro, Embry was a five-time All-Star for the Cincinnati Royals, playing alongside such legendary stars as Oscar Robertson and Jerry Lucas.  An NBA championship proved elusive, however, as the Royals routinely failed to supplant the Boston Celtics as kings of the East.  In a classic case of ‘If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’, Red Auerbach acquired Embry in 1966 as a backup to the incomparable Bill Russell.  After being dethroned by Chamberlain and the Philadelphia 76ers in 1967, the Celtics – with Embry – were back on top, winning a league-best 10th NBA championship.

In 1972, Embry became the first African-American general manager in professional sports when he was named vice president and general manager of the Milwaukee Bucks.  To even mention this fact is something of a disservice to Embry, because his accomplishments as an NBA executive transcend race.  Two major transactions stand out during Embry’s association with the Bucks:  Oscar Robertson’s decision to join the franchise, this based largely on his close relationship with Embry (and a decision that helped the Bucks win the NBA championship in 1971), and the trade of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar from the Bucks to the Los Angeles Lakers.

Embry was named general manager and vice president of the Cleveland Cavaliers in 1985.  In 1994 he became the NBA's first African American team president, also with the Cavaliers.  Embry’s was honored as the Sporting News NBA Executive of the Year in both 1992 and 1998.  On October 1st, 1999, Embry was both recognized and immortalized for his accomplishments by being inducted into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame.

Today, Embry serves as a board member for the Bank of Cleveland, a prestigious position that reports directly to Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan.  Celtic Nation was fortunate to spend time with Embry in September, 2003, and is pleased to share his story with all of Celtic Nation.

CELTIC-NATION
You were born on March 26^th, 1937.  Please tell a little about your childhood, and what it was like to grow up in Springfield during 40s.

 WAYNE EMBRY
I grew up in a rural area, basically poor, but we were a proud family with strong values and a strong work ethic.  My parents instilled these things in me at a very early age.  They were also very good at setting goals, which is something else that has helped me tremendously, both in my life and career.

CELTIC-NATION
You were eight when the United States dropped the atomic bomb on Japan.  Do you have any recollection of that event, and did World War II touch your family in any way?

 WAYNE EMBRY
I really don’t have much recollection of that specific event, but several of my relatives were in the service during the war.  I gained a sense of sacrifice from them, and respected them greatly.

CELTIC-NATION
Your grandfather, William, played an important part of your life.  Please tell me about him, and about the role he played in your education.

 WAYNE EMBRY
William was a very demanding person who stressed the value of education, and someone who also imparted a real desire for learning.  It really helped to have him take an interest in my life.  He constantly reinforced the importance of going to school and getting a college degree.  He was always there to keep me from getting discouraged, especially whenever things got tough.

CELTIC-NATION
”Goose”, and “The Wall” – what do these mean to you?

 WAYNE EMBRY
These are two nicknames that I was given at different points in my basketball career.  “Goose” came from a high school teammate of mine.  We saw the Harlem Globetrotters play a game in New York, and Reese “Goose” Tatum palmed the basketball with those huge hands of his.  We’d never seen anything like that before.  Then it wasn’t long before I was able to do it.  My teammate started calling me “Goose”, and the nickname stuck.
 

CELTIC-NATION
And “The Wall”?

 WAYNE EMBRY
Celtics’ radio broadcaster Johnny Most was the one who gave me that nickname.  He liked the way I set picks [laughs].

 CELTIC-NATION
You were an honorable mention All-State performer at Tecumseh High School, where your team won 48 of 51 games during your junior and senior seasons.  What was high school like for you, and how did you first become interested in basketball?

 WAYNE EMBRY
I was like any other youngster at that age.  I liked to play sports, and not just basketball.  It just turned out that basketball was my best sport.  I liked football a lot as well, but Tecumseh didn’t field a football team until I was a junior.  I went out for the team and played one season.  Basketball, because of my height, was where I really excelled.  Our teams won all those games and I was able to go on and play at the college level.

CELTIC-NATION
A perfect lead-in to my next question.  You played your college ball at Miami of Ohio.  You were a two-time honorable mention All-America selection, scoring 1,401 points and grabbing 1,117 rebounds in three seasons, as well as being named team captain and MVP in 1957 and 1958.  Please tell me about your career at Miami.

 WAYNE EMBRY
Well, today you see guys go from high school directly to the pros, which is something that just didn’t happen when I played.  Even if that had been the trend during my era, I simply wasn’t prepared to play professional basketball.  College was the best route for me.  I was a somewhat of a slow developer – as a freshman I wasn’t even the best player on the team – but by my sophomore season I’d improved in every aspect of my game and had much greater confidence in my ability.  I blossomed during my junior year, and things really took off from that point on.

CELTIC-NATION
In 1958, your Miami squad played the Indiana Hoosiers.  You connected on 15 field goals in that game, the most an opponent had ever scored against IU.  Forty-five years later that record still stands.  Were you aware that your name is still in the IU record books?

 WAYNE EMBRY
I remember playing against Indiana – it was an away game, I believe – but I wasn’t aware that I held that distinction.  That’s a very interesting piece of trivia.  You certainly do your homework!

CELTIC-NATION
You were drafted in the third round by the St. Louis Hawks, who immediately traded you to the Cincinnati Royals.  Please tell me about the great Oscar Robertson, and what it was like playing alongside him for five seasons.

 WAYNE EMBRY
Oscar Robertson, in my opinion, is the best player ever to play the game of basketball.  We were roommates when I was with the Royals, and it was an honor to be on the same team with him.  He certainly enhanced my career.  He had a great impact on me, but his influence extended beyond basketball and into the bigger picture of life.  As you can tell, I have a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for Oscar Robertson.

CELTIC-NATION
You were a five-time NBA All-Star, from 1960-61 to 1964-65.  In terms of personal success, do you have one All-Star season that stands out from the rest?

 WAYNE EMBRY
It’s hard to say which year was the best.  We had some very good teams, but we just couldn’t seem to get past the Celtics.  We had talent – Oscar, Jerry Lucas and Jack Twyman jump to mind – but Boston was always a little bit better.  So if I had to pick one season, it would have to be 1963-64.  We won 55 games that season and really played the Celtics tough.

CELTIC-NATION
In 1966 Red Auerbach acquired you to provide backup support to the great Bill Russell.  The Celtics had just won their eighth consecutive NBA championship and Auerbach had retired as coach.  What was it like coming to Boston, and how did you feel when the Celtics failed to win a ninth consecutive title?

 WAYNE EMBRY
The first word that comes to mind is ‘joy’.  It was difficult to leave my friends behind in Cincinnati, but it was a pure joy to join the Celtics – especially after being beaten by them for so many years.  Just being there gave me an opportunity to win a championship, so I was very excited to be a part of that great tradition.  Of course we didn’t win it all that first year.  Still, I was struck by the way the team carried itself afterwards.  Everyone from Bill Russell to Sam Jones had the same mindset.  In their eyes they still considered themselves champions, and that had a tremendous effect on me.  Because of that confidence, we were able to go out the next season and reclaim the title.

CELTIC-NATION
Did you learn anything from Red in terms of running an NBA franchise?

 WAYNE EMBRY
Yes.  Red had a tremendous management style – it was at the foundation of his success as a coach and general manager.  I emulated that style in both the sports and business worlds.

CELTIC-NATION
Bill Russell and Sam Jones – what is the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of each of these individuals?

 WAYNE EMBRY
Russell was the greatest competitor and the greatest winner in the history of professional sports.  The Celtics won eleven championships during his thirteen years with the team, which, in my mind, ranks as the greatest dynasty ever.  The New York Yankees may have won more championships, but those are spread out over decades.  To win 11 in 13 is an incredible accomplishment.

Sam Jones’ greatness continues to be one of the most underrated aspects of that dynasty.  He was superior to the vast majority of his contemporaries, but his greatness tended to get lost in the shadow of Russell and some of the other players on the team.

CELTIC-NATION
How did Russell the player differ from Russell the coach?

 WAYNE EMBRY
He was still Russell.  After Red retired in 1966, Russell convinced Red that he could handle being both a player and coach.  Red was smart enough to know that not just anyone could come into that situation and coach the Celtics in general, and Russell in particular.  Russell understood that, too, which is why he lobbied for the job.

CELTIC-NATION
The Celtics were back on top a year later, winning a tenth NBA championship.  What was it like for you to finally reach that pinnacle?

 WAYNE EMBRY
There was a great sense of relief.  After playing the game for so long, and after being frustrated by Russell and the Celtics all of those years, it was just a great relief to finally be able to win a championship.

CELTIC-NATION
You finished your playing career with the Bucks, and then directed the negotiations with Oscar Robertson which brought Mr. Robertson to Milwaukee.  The move helped propel the Bucks to the 1971 NBA championship and establish yourself as a rising front office talent.  Please tell me about that 1971 Bucks team, and your role in shaping it.

 WAYNE EMBRY
The owners knew that I had a close relationship with Oscar, so they asked me to make a call on their behalf.  So I made the key inquiry for them.  Having Kareem [Abdul-Jabbar] and Oscar on the same team was an unbelievable combination for us.

CELTIC-NATION
As the Bucks vice-president and general manager of the Bucks, you handled one of the biggest trades in league history.  The deal sent Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to the Los Angeles Lakers for Junior Bridgeman, Brian Winters, Elmore Smith and Dave Meyers.  Please explain the mechanics behind that trade, and what it meant to both teams.

 WAYNE EMBRY
Kareem requested to be traded.  He had one year remaining on his contract, and it was my intention to honor his request.  The ownership felt the same way.  We knew that Kareem was going to leave as soon as his contract expired, so it was my job to create the best trade on behalf of the Milwaukee Bucks.  The Lakers simply had the best deal on the table.

CELTIC-NATION
As vice-president and general manager of the Bucks, you squared off against the Celtics in the 1974 NBA Finals.  How did it feel going up against some of your old friends, and what stands out most in your mind about that series?

 WAYNE EMBRY
It was a great series, and would have been even greater had we beaten them.  I don’t remember many details, but Kareem’s skyhook to win Game 6 stands out in my mind.  That, and neither team could seem to maintain homecourt advantage.

CELTIC-NATION
In 1985 you were named vice-president & general manager of the Cleveland Cavaliers, and it wasn’t long before you once again crossed paths with Red Auerbach.  The issue this time wasn’t a championship, but instead the Number 1 pick in the 1986 NBA Draft.  Please take me back to that draft – were the Cavaliers ever interested in drafting Len Bias?

 WAYNE EMBRY
Yes, the Cavaliers seriously considered drafting Bias.  When I arrived there was an ongoing debate about whether to take Bias or Brad Doherty.  Fortunately, I had enough influence to swing the choice to Doherty.

CELTIC-NATION
Your tenure at Cleveland was highly successful.  In addition building the Cavaliers into a consistent playoff contender, you were named The Sporting News NBA Executive of the Year in 1992 and 1998.  Where do these honors rank in terms of your overall accomplishments?

 WAYNE EMBRY
It’s nice to be recognized.  It’s also very rewarding to see all of your hard work pay off.  As far as ranking them, it’s really hard to say.

CELTIC-NATION
On October 1^st, 1999 you received basketball’s highest honor.  Please take me back to your induction into the James Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame.

 WAYNE EMBRY
It was something I never dreamed of, and on that day it makes you realize that not many people get that kind of recognition.  My goal was simply to do a good job.  I ended up being nominated – and later inducted – as a contributor, in which the Hall of Fame recognized my achievements both as a player and as a front office executive.  Obviously, I'm very honored to be included in such an elite group who have already been enshrined into the Hall of Fame.  I'm pleased and I feel privileged to be part of that group.  It was definite the highlight of my career.

CELTIC-NATION
You currently serve on the Federal Reserve Bank of Cleveland Board of Directors.  What is your role with the Federal Reserve, and what role do the reserve banks play in shaping the nation’s fiscal policy?

 WAYNE EMBRY
The Bank of Cleveland reports to the Central Bank, and we play a large role in shaping monetary and economic policy.  It’s quite interesting work, and a great honor to serve.  My term lasts for five years, and I currently have one year remaining.

CELTIC-NATION
Final Question:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  You are universally respected and admired by many people, both inside and outside of the NBA.  If you could offer one piece of advice on life to others, what would that be?

 WAYNE EMBRY
I’m a big believer in words that begin with the letter P:  Persistence, preparation, perseverance, and pride.  Stay true to those words and you can’t go wrong.

http://www.celtic-nation.com/interviews/scott_wedman/scott_wedman_page1.htm

Scott Wedman: PICTURE PERFECT

The Scott Wedman Interview
By:  Michael D. McClellan | Sunday, November 14^th, 2004

Scott Wedman’s game was a holistic experience, a deliciously pure effort far greater than the sum of its considerable parts, and few others have played it any better than the Kansan with the picture-perfect release and feathery touch.  Resplendent at times and transcendent at others, his was a symphonic game always in tune with the greater good of helping his team win basketball’s ultimate prize – a quixotic pursuit for most NBA players, but not for Wedman; as a member of two NBA World Championship teams while with the Boston Celtics, Wedman earned a well-deserved reputation as both a deadeye marksman and quintessential teammate.

NBA championships are usually born from the stuff of dreams, and Wedman’s dream began on a farm in Harper, Kansas, where he first learned to shoot baskets by hanging a rim on the family barn.  It was there that he began to lay the foundation for one of the purest shots in NBA history.  With grandparents close by and plenty of room to roam, Harper was the ideal place for those formative years, and each day was a new adventure for the future NBA All-Star.  He learned about livestock, played with his older brother, and took his first tentative steps toward basketball greatness.  His mother made sure that he ate properly, starting him down a dietary path that would help shape his views on man’s physical, mental and spiritual well-being.  It was clearly a journey that suited him well; a vegetarian who drank bottled water and practiced yoga regularly, Wedman was a finely-tuned athlete who always produced when his number was called.

Former Celtics head coach K.C. Jones still marvels at the man whose hallmarks were preparedness, integrity and teamwork.  “Scott was always ready to play, and he was a vital piece of our team.  He knew that players like Larry [Bird] and Kevin [McHale] were going to get their minutes, and he accepted his role without hesitation. He had the perfect attitude.  As a coach, you couldn’t ask for anything more.”

By age five, Wedman’s family had relocated in Denver.  There was a brief moved back to Kansas before settling in Denver on a permanent basis.  Basketball was becoming an increasingly prominent recreation.  Wedman’s midget basketball team won the city championship, a taste of hoops nirvana that further fueled the dream and provided structure to his ever-improving game.  His coach stressed the fundamentals and helped to reduce the anxiety that came with organized competition.   If only his body had kept pace with his prodigious basketball talent; undersized at 5’-6” by the time he enrolled at Mullen High in Denver, it wasn’t until Wedman’s senior season that size and skill converged, landing him on the all-state team and giving him a legitimate shot at Division I basketball.  Two schools, Wyoming and Colorado, were in the running.  Colorado won out.

Wedman set off for Boulder determined to prove he belonged in a major college program.  As a non-varsity freshman he continued to refine his shooting motion, and  he focused on the areas that he considered weaknesses; speed, jumping, defense.  By Year Two he was on solid footing, and by the end of his junior season he had begun to attract the attention of NBA scouts.  The dream, unfathomable just a few short years before, was suddenly – and deliciously – within Wedman’s grasp.  Refreshingly, he refused to change his approach to the game; he still worked hard on the court, and he remained the same unassuming gentleman off of it.

 The Kansas City Kings selected Wedman sixth overall in the 1974 NBA Draft, but they weren’t the only team intrigued with his picture-perfect jumper; Memphis from the rival ABA made a play for his services, convinced that his game would flourish in the league’s wide-open, three-point atmosphere.  It was a tempting offer, but at the end of the day Wedman wanted to play in a more established league – and against the best basketball talent in the world.  It didn’t hurt that Kansas City was close to home, and that the team boasted one of the finest playmakers in NBA history in Nate “Tiny” Archibald.  An All-Rookie nod validated not only Kansas City’s faith in Wedman, who had passed over solid talent such as Keith (later Jamaal) Wilkes, but also Wedman’s faith in himself.  He realized quickly that he could play with the best, and that he could do so at a consistently high level.  The games became shooting clinics.  And then there were those occasions when Wedman was simply otherworldly:  Witness his 45-point (on 19-of-31 shooting), 12 rebound, seven assist night against the Utah Jazz in 1980.  Even more impressive was that the majority of Wedman’s points came at the expense of Jazz All-Star Adrian Dantley.

Free agency took Wedman to Cleveland (summer of 1981), and thus began a short-lived, ill-fated stint with the woeful Cavaliers.  In hindsight it may not have been the best move, but it did set the stage for the 1983 midseason trade to the Boston Celtics.  There would be adjustments all-around – by Wedman, who had been a starter and offensive focal point for so long; by head coach Bill Fitch, who had to figure a way to fit Wedman into the rotation; and by the Celtic players, who were gaining this unknown variable in the middle of the season and were trying to repeat as NBA champions.  A playoff sweep at the hands of the Milwaukee Bucks cast further doubt on the transaction, but Wedman used the summer to rededicate himself to basketball.  By 1984, the Celtics were once again NBA royalty, defeating the hated L.A. Lakers for the team’s fifteenth banner.  Wedman, now comfortable in the role of instant offense off of the bench, had helped turn the Celtics into a deeper, more dangerous squad.  And, at long last, he was finally on a championship team.

Los Angeles would get its revenge the following season, but not before Wedman had put on one of the greatest shooting exhibitions in NBA history.  In Game 1 of the 1985 NBA Finals, Wedman finished a perfect 11-for-11 from the floor.  Four of those shots were three-pointers.  The 148-114 rout became known as the Boston Massacre, and Wedman’s fingerprints would be indelibly linked to the crime.

1986 brought the arrival of Bill Walton to Boston, and the Celtics now had the deepest bench in the NBA.  With Walton, Wedman and Jerry Sichting in the rotation, Boston rampaged through the regular season en route to its sixteenth crown.  That team is still recognized as one of the greatest ever.

Scott Wedman would retire one season later, but his mark – and his marksmanship – will never be forgotten.  He remains a class act in every sense of the word, a thoughtful, introspective man who has been kind enough to grace Celtic Nation with this interview.  It is with great pleasure that we share his story with you.

CELTIC-NATION
You were born on July 29^th, 1952 in Harper, Kansas.  Harper is located within 60 miles of the hometowns of former Celtics Bob Brannum (Winfield, KS) and Ernie Barrett (Wellington, KS).  Please take me back to your childhood in Harper.  What are some of the things that stand out in your mind after all these years?

SCOTT WEDMAN
We lived in Harper a very short time during my childhood– my parents moved to Denver when I was five years old.  Harper was a farming community, so there were plenty of wide-open spaces for kids to play.  Both sets of grandparents were there, so it was a good, wholesome family atmosphere.  We moved back to Harper briefly, which was during my fourth and fifth grade years, before moving to Denver for good.  I have fond memories of my time there, though.  Being close to my grandparents and enjoying them are probably the memories that stand out most.

CELTIC-NATION
You graduated from Mullen High School in Denver, Colorado.  Please tell me about the path that led you to Mullen High, and also about your basketball career there.

SCOTT WEDMAN
I was raised Catholic and attended Mullen, which is a Christian Brothers Catholic school.  It’s known for both academics and athletics, so the majority of the student body was there to excel in one or the other – or, in some cases, both.  As a freshman I wasn’t much athletically.  I was 5’-6” tall and 120 pounds, which made me one of the smallest players on the team.  That first year at Mullen I was second string on the B team, but the important thing to me was that I didn’t get cut [laughs].  It took me a while for my body to catch up with my skill level.  I kept working and practicing, and by my senior year I was 6’-4” varsity player and made the all-state team.

I was fortunate to have a good basketball foundation prior to attending Mullen.  Bill Harris was my first significant coach, and he did a fantastic job of teaching me the fundamentals.  He was a Denver policeman who volunteered his time and energy, and who provided a real calming effect as I began my career in competitive athletics.  He coached my sixth grade team to the city championship, worked with me for more than two years, and helped to get my game on solid footing.

My high school coach at Mullen was Rick Egloff, who played quarterback at the University of Wyoming.  He led the Cowboys to the 1966 Sun Bowl team.  He was a young head coach, probably twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, and was very supportive in my development as a basketball player.  He contacted Bill Strannigan, then the head coach at the University of Wyoming, who offered me a full scholarship to play basketball.  The University of Colorado entered the picture at about the same time, so I had two schools from which to choose.  I ended up choosing Colorado and went there on a partial scholarship.

CELTIC-NATION
While at Colorado, you set the field goal percentage record by shooting 53.5% from the floor.  As a professional, you shot above 50% for three consecutive seasons and earned a reputation as one of the NBA’s most deadly shooters.  What was the secret to such outstanding marksmanship?

SCOTT WEDMAN
I think my secret was a love of the game.  For me, practice was never laborious.  I would practice with the team and then work out on my own, and I truly enjoyed ever moment of it.  My goal was always the same – to make ever shot.  This helped me to stay focused on the proper mechanics, such as squaring up, releasing the ball, and following through.  I think enjoying basketball so much was a big advantage for me, because I wanted to learn more and I stayed longer to practice on that aspect of my game.  Also, it really helped that I had excellent coaches and teachers along the way.

I never stopped shooting.  While with the Celtics, I remember Danny Ainge giving me a hard time for shooting so much.  He used to tell me that I was going to wear myself out, and that I needed to save myself for the games.  He was probably right [laughs], but I really enjoyed shooting the basketball.

At Colorado, freshman weren’t allowed to play on the varsity team.  That was probably a good thing for me, because I don’t think I was ready to play at that level of competition.  Cliff Meely was on the varsity squad at the time.  He would go on to play several years with the Houston Rockets in the NBA, and I remember going against him in practice for the first time.  He was the most awesome player I’d ever seen.  It felt like playing against a super being [laughs].  But those types of experiences make you better, and by my sophomore year I was ready to play major college basketball.  The team suffered some injuries and we started the season 0-8, but we ended up having a pretty good year.  I think I averaged 15 points-per-game.

After the season I concentrated on my jumping.  I worked hard to improve my vertical leap – I’d put on a weight vest and do between 100 and 200 explosive jumps – because I felt that it would help me to become a better player.  Spring was always one of my favorite times to work on my game.  I could play without restriction once the season was over, and this gave me the opportunity to expand on my skills.  It became an extension of what I was doing during basketball season, and I couldn’t imagine doing it any other way.
 
Russell “Sox” Walseth was the head coach at Colorado, and he was the one who really helped to improve my defense.  Sox was an icon at CU, where he coached both the men’s and women’s basketball teams.  I enjoyed his practices tremendously – I was usually the first to arrive and the last to leave – and his instruction was so valuable in terms of my growth as a basketball player.  He passed away earlier this year.  It was a great loss – Sox meant a great deal to me.

 CELTIC-NATION
You were selected sixth overall by the Kansas City Kings, in the 1974 NBA Draft.  That same year, you were also drafted by Memphis of the American Basketball Association.  What was it like to be drafted so highly by the Kings, and did you ever consider signing with Memphis?

SCOTT WEDMAN
I considered Memphis.  My heart was in the NBA – it was the established league, and I wanted to play against the best competition – but I wanted to look at all of the possibilities.  The prospect of playing professional basketball came as quite a shock, especially for someone still learning to play the college game.  I didn’t think about the NBA until after my junior season.  I was surprised to learn that some scouts had watched me play, and that they’d shown some interest in drafting me.  The Kings sent scouts to watch me play in the Big Eight Tournament.  Until then, the NBA – or the ABA, for that matter – seemed too farfetched for me to take seriously.

I didn’t really change anything after that.  I just kept working hard and getting ready for my senior season, and I always went out onto the court determined to do my best.  I tore my ankle with three or four games left on our schedule.  I was sure that the injury would hurt my chances of being drafted, but the Kings flew a doctor in to examine my ankle.  I passed the physical – they cut the cast off, the doctor checked me out, and they put another cast back on.  Shortly after that, the Kings drew up a contract and I decided to play in the NBA.  My only concern at that point was being introduced at the press conference.  I wanted to walk in without limping, so I rehabbed the ankle around the clock [laughs].

CELTIC-NATION
Your first season in Kansas City was a success.  The Kings won 44 games, finishing three games out of first place.  You averaged 11 points-per-game and was named to the NBA All-Rookie team.  As a professional basketball player, what kind of adjustments did you make in order to succeed?

SCOTT WEDMAN
I didn’t really have to make any adjustments as far as my game was concerned.  It was more of a mental challenge.  Those first few games I didn’t play much, and I was despondent because of that.  It bothered me to sit on the bench and not contribute.  I was young, and I didn’t realize the importance of playing a role on a team, especially if that role involved a lot of sitting [laughs].  Eventually I began to understand what was expected of me.  I kept working hard in practice.  I kept myself ready.  It paid off, because I got my opportunity in a game against the Houston Rockets.  [Kings head coach] Phil Johnson put me in and I was doing anything to help the team win.  I had blood on both knees from diving for loose balls.  After the game he singled me out, and said that he wished he had more guys playing defense the way I played it that night.

I never had a problem getting up for games, and the effort was always there.  It also helped to have Tiny Archibald on that team, because he was such a great basketball player.  He was exceptional – he could penetrate, pass and score.  I quickly learned where to be when he had the ball, because if you were open the pass was coming.  It didn’t matter if it were baseline or perimeter; he drew so much attention that could penetrate and then kick the ball out for an open shot.  He was an incredible, incredible player.

Jim Walker was on that first team, and he was very supportive.  It was great to have veterans like that, guys who wanted to see me succeed and to help make the Kings better in the process.  Jim said that I was going to win the Rookie of the Year award.  I didn’t win it, of course, but it was nice to have him rooting for me.  Don Kojis was another older player who helped me a lot.

After getting playing time, the biggest adjustment was probably on defense.  Back then there were plenty of talented forwards to contend with on a nightly basis – guys like Rick Barry, Bingo Smith, Sydney Wicks, Chet Walker and Curtis Rowe.  You had to be prepared to play solid defense every time you stepped onto the court against those guys.

CELTIC-NATION
A teammate during your first two seasons in Kansas City was future hall-of-famer Tiny Archibald.  What memories stand out most in your mind about Mr. Archibald?

SCOTT WEDMAN
Tiny was very quiet.  He didn’t communicate a lot back then, and I was somewhat quiet as well.  So neither of us really said a whole lot during my rookie year.  Tiny’s strengths were obvious – the speed and quickness was right there for everyone to see, as well as the ability to pass and score.  He was a most unusual player.  He was a 6’-1” left-handed guard with explosiveness, and yet he made everything look almost effortless.  He had the nickname “Nate the Skate” because he looked so smooth dribbling the basketball.  He was uncanny at getting the ball to me in good spots.  He had a great point guard mentality.

CELTIC-NATION
In January, 1980, you had a career night against Utah.  You scored 45 points on 19-of-31 shooting, many of which came against NBA star Adrian Dantley.  You also had 12 rebounds and seven assists in that game.  Did you feel unstoppable when you were shooting the ball that well?

SCOTT WEDMAN
Yes.  That night I didn’t think I could miss – obviously I did miss, but every shot felt good when it left my hands.  It’s hard to describe.  I had a pretty good streak going during that season.  I remember going back to Utah later that year and hitting my first seven field goals.  I was so hot that night that I took shots that I normally wouldn’t have taken.  But that’s the way it works when you feel it.  Over the course of my career I had four or five games where I didn’t miss a shot.  I just got going good and didn’t let up.  The superstars – the Larry Birds of the world – are able to step onto the court and recreate those moments almost at will.

CELTIC-NATION
You and fellow teammate Otis Birdsong helped the Kings reach the Western Conference finals in 1981, battling Moses Malone and the Houston Rockets.  Please take me back to that series.  What stands out most in your mind?

SCOTT WEDMAN
We didn’t shoot as well as we should have.  As a team, our percentage was down from our season average.  We beat the Portland Trail Blazers and the Phoenix Suns to reach the Conference Finals, and we felt good about our chances against the Rockets.  But Phil Ford and Otis Birdsong got hurt, and that forced us to change our rotation.  Ernie Grunfeld had to play more forward than he was used to, and I was also out of position a bit.  As a team, we were out of our flow.  The Rockets had Moses, Calvin Murphy, Robert Reid, Rudy Tomjanovich and Mike Dunleavy.  Quality guys.  So they were a very good team.  It was a great disappointment to lose, because I’ve always felt that we matched up better with the Celtics that year.  The Rockets fell 4-2 in the 1981 NBA Finals.  I’ve always wondered how we would have done against Larry Bird, Kevin [McHale] and Robert [Parish].

CELTIC-NATION
Kings ownership broke up the team following the loss to the Rockets, and you signed a free agent contract with the Cleveland Cavaliers.  Please tell me about this period in your life.

SCOTT WEDMAN
That was the first year of free agency and the right of first refusal.  The agents for myself and Otis [Birdsong] did a really good job – we both ended up signing with Cleveland, and it was a financial success in both cases.

To be honest, I expected to stay in Kansas City my entire career.  It felt good – I knew the offense, the system, and everything about the situation just fit.  But ownership wasn’t looking to spend, and Cleveland was aggressive.  From a basketball standpoint it may not have been the best fit for me, but that was an unknown at the time.  When I got there I quickly realized how much was different.

CELTIC-NATION
You arrived in Boston following a midseason trade between the Celtics and the Cleveland Cavaliers.  How quickly were you accepted by your new teammates, and what was it like to play for head coach Bill Fitch?

SCOTT WEDMAN
I vividly remember the day that I was traded – it was January 16th, 1981.  Ironically, my first game as a Boston Celtic was against the Cavaliers in Cleveland.  I remember how strange it felt to dress in the road locker room.  Back then the players carried their own shoes and uniforms.  I had my road uniform and a pair of white basketball shoes with me, which posed something of a problem.  The Celtics either played in black or green basketball shoes.  So I had to paint my shoes green for the game [laughs].

I remember going out on the court for warm-ups – running the drills and shooting the ball – and I don’t think I missed a shot.  I felt really good – I was excited to be a part of Boston Celtics, and to be playing with such a talented group of players.  And then the reality of the situation set in; I didn’t get into the game, and I quickly learned that I was going to spend a lot of time sitting behind Bird.  It was very disappointing.  But by the end of that game I understood how close-knit that team was, and that it was going to take some time to figure out where I fit.

The guys didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms, but I can understand their point-of-view; no one wants to see his minutes go down, and suddenly another player is thrown into the mix.  After the Cleveland game I doubted whether Boston was the ideal situation for me.  Confidence-wise, it was a very tough three-or-four month period because [Bill] Fitch had a set rotation.  Cedric Maxwell was a starter, and McHale was the sixth man.  Danny Ainge was slotted behind Gerald Henderson in the backcourt.  Looking back, I think my biggest contributions those first few months came in the practices.  I think I was brought in to push Larry in practice, to help keep him focused and motivated.  Larry was very hard on me – he was always testing me, and challenging me the whole way.  He’d talk so much trash.  He’d try to show me up.  It was a very difficult adjustment to make, because I wasn’t used to that type of environment.

The team played well after the trade, but Larry ended up getting hurt and we were swept out of the playoffs by Milwaukee.  I used the summer to regroup.  I worked with a personal trainer to improve my strength and conditioning, and when training camp opened I went right at Larry.  He’d dish it out, and I’d give it right back.  I wanted to prove that I belonged, and that I could fit into a productive role on the team.  I became a contributor.  I felt I was a key piece of the puzzle.  At the same time, Larry began his run as the league’s Most Valuable Player.  He was the MVP from 1984 to 1986, and I like to think I had a little to do with that.  We had some great battles in practice.

CELTIC-NATION
The Celtics were swept out of the 1983 NBA Playoffs by the Milwaukee Bucks, prompting Red Auerbach to make two key offseason changes; K.C. Jones was promoted to the position of head coach, and Dennis Johnson was acquired in a trade with Phoenix.  Please tell me about K.C. and Dennis, and what each meant in terms of winning a championship.

SCOTT WEDMAN
K.C. was the assistant coach when I arrived from Cleveland.  He was a quiet, soft-spoken man, but he was also very humorous.  Very funny.  As an assistant, you knew you had a friend you could trust and lean on.  He could be a great buffer.  In the NBA – and anything else for that matter – you have to possess a certain degree of honesty, loyalty and integrity in order to be successful.  K.C. had those qualities.  It’s so vital to have those things in professional basketball because you go through so much.  If those elements aren’t present, then you discover quickly that the lines of communication break down.  It just doesn’t work.  That was never the case with K.C.

K.C. was the perfect person for the head coaching job – we were a veteran team, so the X’s and O’s weren’t the most important factors for us.  We needed someone who was accomplished, and who would let us go out there and play.  It was a great move.

Dennis was very unusual.  He was so casual and relaxed, and was always having fun.  He was a true junkyard dog in many respects, a player who would do whatever the situation called for, and someone who  always rose to the occasion.  And he was such a great defensive player.  He drew the tough assignments, always did great work defensively, and then was so dangerous on the other end of the court.

There were some questions about Dennis when the trade was made.  There had been reports of run-ins with coaches in Seattle and Phoenix, and speculation that his personality was going to make him a problem.  We welcomed him with open arms.  He had a clean slate in Boston, and we were all determined to form our own opinions about Dennis Johnson.  Larry and Dennis bonded almost immediately.  There was a great deal of mutual respect between them.  Three or four games into the exhibition season Larry made his famous statement to the press, saying that DJ was the best basketball player he’d ever played with.  It was a great move by Larry, who was a master communicator and one of the best at working the press.  He paid a great amount of respect to DJ, and DJ responded by fitting in perfectly.  Larry was sincere when he made that comment, because he was never one to offer compliments easily.  He quickly saw qualities in DJ that he liked, and he made no secret of his feelings.

CELTIC-NATION
The 1985 NBA Finals featured a rematch with the Lakers, and a return to the 2-3-2 home-away format.  Game 1 fell on Memorial Day, May 27^th, and has become known as the Memorial Day Massacre.  Your Celtics won that game 148-114, and you were a perfect 11-for-11 from the floor including four three-pointers.  Please take me back to that game – what stands out most, after all of these years?

SCOTT WEDMAN
As a professional basketball player, your performance on the court is partly a reflection of where you are emotionally and spiritually.  It’s also directly impacted by your relationship with family and friends.  All of those things were very positive for me when we played the Lakers that day.  I was in a really good place mentally.  I had good friends around me, and all of the elements were right for a strong performance.  I remember that Ainge had a great game, and that I was mentally focused to come off of the bench.  If I’d learned anything from the previous season, it was that I needed to be prepared to contribute when my number was called.  I’d learned to cheer the team when I wasn’t playing, and to keep myself in a very positive frame of mind.  And that day there were no negative thoughts at all.  My first shot didn’t feel good when I released it, but it went in and I knew immediately that I was going to have a good game.

CELTIC-NATION
The Lakers evened the series by winning Game 2.  Kareem, who had played so poorly in Game 1, responded with 30 points, 17 rebounds, eight assists and three blocks.  What adjustments did the Lakers– and Kareem in particular – make that proved to be so effective?

SCOTT WEDMAN
I’m not sure what made the difference.  Kareem was suffering from migraines in the first game, so I’m sure that had an effect on his performance.  The Lakers were an excellent team, very talented.  They scored a lot of fast-break points in that series, and Kareem really took it to us.

CELTIC-NATION
The Celtics made a major move following the loss to the Lakers; Cedric Maxwell was traded to the Clippers in exchange for Bill Walton.  In what ways did Walton’s arrival improve the Boston Celtics?

SCOTT WEDMAN
Well, we were really disappointed to lose Cedric Maxwell.  He was quite a player, and he had a great personality.  He’d limped through the season with a knee injury, which was tough, and then Red decided to make the trade with the Clippers.

Bill was like a kid in a candy store.  He was thrilled to be a Boston Celtic, thrilled to be playing with Larry Bird, but also aware of how he might be perceived by his teammates – especially Robert Parish.  So one of the first things he did was to call Robert, and to assure him that he was still the starter.  It was a smart move, because it made Robert very receptive to the trade.

Bill made our practice team much, much better.  Those practices were so intense.  Everyone talked trash.  There was a lot of pride at stake.  And it made the team better – we were 40-1 at home that season, and a lot of that had to do with the nature of our practices.  They were as competitive as many of the games we played that season, because everyone wanted to perform at a high level.  The Big Three set the tone, but the practice team always wanted to take it to them.  And we won our fair share of games [laughs].

CELTIC-NATION
The 1985-86 Boston Celtics won 67 games on its way to the NBA championship, in large part due to players named Walton, Wedman and Sichting coming off of the bench.  It is generally regarded as one of the greatest teams ever assembled.  Where do you think it ranks in terms of the best teams ever?

SCOTT WEDMAN
I don’t know.  When you look at all of the great players on our team, you have to look at McHale and ask yourself who would have to guard him.  You might find someone to match up with Robert or Larry to some degree, but then who would take care of Kevin?  He was such an incredible low-post player – how many teams would have someone capable of stopping him?  And our bench strength was so great that year that we had depth at all positions.  Jerry Sichting could come in for Ainge and bring incredible shooting accuracy.  Bill brought that trademark intensity, not to mention great passing in the low-post.  I felt I could shoot the ball and defend.  It was a great team, but it’s so hard to compare teams from different eras.  I still like our chances against any team in NBA history.

CELTIC-NATION
How did the death of Lenny Bias alter the state of the franchise?

SCOTT WEDMAN
Lenny was going to be an impact player for twelve to fifteen years.  I saw him play while he was at the University of Maryland, but I never had the opportunity to play against him.  It was devastating to the Celtics, because he was going to be the team’s future.  A player of that caliber was also going to extend Larry’s career, so it was tremendous blow to the organization.

CELTIC-NATION
You are close friends with Larry Bird.  Please tell me a little about your former teammate, perhaps a side that the public doesn’t see all that often.

SCOTT WEDMAN
I can tell you a story about him that not many people know.  I liked to run after practice, and Larry used to give me a hard time about it.  But then one day I saw Larry running around the court after we’d finished up our drills, and the next thing you know it had become a part of his routine.  Well, I had an aerobic instructor named Louise Bollen who also happened to be a marathoner.  She was going to run in a charity 10K that spring, and it fell during a break in our playing schedule.  She wanted me to run it with her, so I asked Larry if he wanted to join us.  Larry talked to K.C. about it, who was a little concerned that we might pull a hamstring and spend some time on injured reserve.  But he was somehow able to get K.C.’s blessing to let us run.  The race started in front of the Boston Garden.  It was a beautiful day, and I was surprised to see so many people show up for a 10K.  At that point I realized that we’re in a legitimate race.

We started out in the middle of the pack, with Louise setting a comfortable pace.  Most of the people were very respectful.  They would offer a kind word or wave as they passed us.  But as the race went on, we heard more than one person say “Hey, I’m passing Larry Bird!”, and I could tell that it was starting to bother Larry.  Finally, we’re one mile away from the finish line.  It’s downhill.  Larry said, “That’s it, nobody else is passing me.”  And off he went, hitting that last mile in a dead sprint.  For me, it was a chance to see the heart of a champion in an arena other than basketball.   I was able to fully experience Larry’s drive, and his will to win.  It was an incredible sight – although I’m not sure that K.C. would have been happy with Larry going all-out like that [laughs].

CELTIC-NATION
Kevin McHale was known as a big practical joker.  Were you ever on the receiving end of his pranks, and do you have any that stand out after all of these years?

SCOTT WEDMAN
I only drank bottled water, and Kevin claims that he poured it out on many occasions and replaced it with tap water.  He teased me about it many times back then, and still sticks to his story.

CELTIC-NATION
You were a two-time NBA All-Star.  Looking back, how does it feel to be recognized in such a way?

SCOTT WEDMAN
It was an honor to be recognized in that way, but I’m more proud of my selection to the All-Defensive second team.  Because of injury I was only able to play in one All-Star game, but it was a very rewarding experience.

CELTIC-NATION
Final Question:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  You are universally respected and admired by many people, both inside and outside of the NBA.  If you could offer one piece of advice on life to others, what would that be?

SCOTT WEDMAN
Follow your heart.  It’s the surest way to realize true happiness in life.

http://www.celtic-nation.com/interviews/sam_vincent/sam_vincent_page1.htm

Sam Vincent: THRILL RIDE
 

The Sam Vincent Interview

By:  Michael D. McClellan | Monday, May 15^th, 2006

 He grew up with a basketball in his hands, idolizing his older brother while forging a remarkable legacy of his own, and hoping that one day he, too, would don an NBA uniform and complete against the best athletes in the world.  The spotlight certainly did not intimidate – how could it?  He had played in front of raucous crowds from an early age.  His brother had starred at Eastern High School before him, and had preceded him at Michigan State University.  He had watched the Spartans win a national championship in 1979, his brother teaming with boyhood friend Magic Johnson to conquer Larry Bird and the Cinderella Sycamores, and he had followed that daunting act with an All-American season of his own.  So to say that Sam Vincent seemed predestined for a career in the National Basketball Association would be something of an understatement, and on June 18^th, 1985, the Boston Celtics fulfilled Vincent’s destiny by snatching up the savvy playmaker with the 20^th pick in the 1985 NBA Draft.  For the Celtics, Vincent’s selection was a practical matter based on a need for depth in its backcourt; for Vincent, his arrival in Boston marked the beginning of something else – a thrill ride culminating with arguably the greatest team in NBA history winning a league-record sixteenth championship banner, this with Vincent smack in the middle of it all.

Call it the impatience of youth, but Vincent, circa 1985, had a hard time grasping the special circumstances to which he suddenly found himself privy.  There were contract problems out of the gate, and an agent’s threat of a lengthy holdout in order to get the numbers right.  There were several proven veterans, including starters Dennis Johnson and Danny Ainge, entrenched ahead of him on the depth chart.  There was a head coach in place who had spent his entire professional playing career learning the Celtic Way, which is to say that rookies not named Bill Russell and Larry Bird spend most of their first season watching from the sidelines.  The young Sam Vincent had a hard time accepting this.  He was confident in his ability, and felt that he could step in and contribute as the first guard off of the bench.  He also had a hard time understanding the team’s desire to add a veteran ball handler to the mix, a player with NBA experience who could not only spell Ainge and Johnson, but who could perform under the blast-furnace pressure that is NBA playoff basketball.  But before you find fault in his actions, you would be wise to walk a mile in Sam Vincent’s shoes.  When you are that young and that talented, you feel that you can step into a championship situation and contribute immediately, regardless of your own relative inexperience at the pro level.  You see your brother play 81 games as a rookie, albeit on a moribund, 28-win Dallas Maverick squad, and you figure that big-time minutes come as part of the requisite NBA package.  All you need to succeed is the trust of your coaches and teammates, a healthy dose of playing time, and the rest takes care of itself.

Growing up in Lansing, Michigan, Vincent played neighborhood pickup games at a time when an effervescent Magic Johnson was leading Everett High School to a state basketball championship.  He also watched his brother, Jay, star at Eastern and battle Magic for state prep supremacy.  Four years younger than Jay, the Vincent soaked it all in and worked hard to hone his own game.  Even then he was easy with a smile, articulate, and a natural leader.  He arrived at Eastern with the requisite tools to play varsity basketball – good size for a high school guard, exceptional strength, great quickness and leaping ability – but freshmen were not allowed to play varsity ball under the rules at the time.  Still, few doubted that he would make a big-time impact.  Vincent didn’t disappoint; as a sophomore, he hit the ground running, dazzling fans and foes alike, all while leading the Quakers to the semifinals of Michigan’s ultra-competitive high school basketball tournament.  A year later, Eastern claimed the state championship.  Vincent rocketed up-and-down the court that season, averaging more than 20 points-per-game and burnishing his reputation as one of the best high school players in the country.  As a senior, Vincent scored 61 points against Lansing Waverly, a performance that still ranks among the best in the history of Michigan high school basketball.  His average jumped 10 points, to 30-per-game, and scholarship offers poured in.  He was named Michigan’s inaugural Mr. Basketball, and landed on the McDonald’s All-American Team.

Vincent followed his brother’s path to Michigan State, where he put together an incrementally solid, workmanlike career.  Just how good a college basketball player was Sam Vincent?  Twenty years later, his 1,851 points still rank sixth all-time in school history.  His senior average of 23.7 points-per-game was tops in the Big Ten, and he was honored as a Sporting News first team All-American.  (AP and UPI also selected him as a third team All-American.)  Suddenly, Jay’s kid brother was being talked about as a potential lottery pick.

The 1985 NBA Draft promised plenty of excitement, with Patrick Ewing a lock at Number 1, and players such as Xavier McDaniel, Chris Mullin and Karl Malone making it one of the deepest talent pools in years.  Vincent’s presence added to the intrigue.  He was big-name guard from a big-time program, and he had proven himself against some of the best competition in the country.  The Celtics, sitting at No. 20, expected Vincent to go far earlier, possibly to the Chicago Bulls at No. 11.  The slide was as surprising as it was unexpected, and Boston suddenly found itself in position to nab the Michigan State star.  Torn between Vincent and the relatively unknown Terry Porter from Wisconsin-Stevens Point, Celtic management opted for the player with the Big Ten résumé and the All-American credentials.  And just like that, Vincent found himself playing on an historic team with serious championship aspirations.  It was at once a blessing and a curse, and in many ways the ultimate Catch-22:  While landing on a great team loaded with veteran talent meant a chance to compete for a title, it also meant that minutes would not come easily.

"Sam joined a veteran team looking to win now,” recalls center Robert Parish.  “He wanted to play, and he wanted to contribute, just like any young player coming into the league.  I think it was hard for him to sit and watch, especially at first.   But as the year went on he gradually accepted his role on the team.”

With salary negations stalled, Vincent stayed at home and prepared for an extended holdout.  He didn’t stay in playing shape, something that hurt his progress in training camp once the contract issues were resolved.  Still, it was hard not to be excited by the prospect of playing with guys like Parish, Bird and Kevin McHale.  A healthy Bill Walton, who had arrived that summer via trade, also had the city buzzing.  The Celtics were loaded, and they were determined to make amends for the Finals loss to the Lakers just a few months before.

“We were focused,” said former teammate Scott Wedman.  “We came to training camp on a mission.  We were sorry to see Cedric [Maxwell] leave, but the trade produced Bill Walton.  He brought and incredible amount of low-post intensity to the team.  Once the season started, the rest of the league got a chance to see that we were going to be pretty special.”

A season-opening, 113-109 road loss to the New Jersey Nets may have started things off on the wrong foot, but the Celtics did little else wrong the rest of the way.  An eight-game winning streak followed that Meadowlands defeat, including a 124-105 trouncing of the rival Pistons in Detroit.  That game in particular was something of a low-water mark for Vincent, who had hoped to play, and play well, in front of family and friends back home.  Despite the blowout, head coach KC Jones didn’t play his rookie point guard until just over two minutes remained in the fourth quarter.  Coach and pupil talked afterward, with Jones explaining the Celtic Way, at times in not so subtle terms.  He pointed to the veteran roster and the abundance of guards on the team, and explained that the team historically didn’t give playing time to untested rookies.  Minutes – and trust – were earned during practice.  Vincent understood where his coach was coming from, but he also felt much like the college graduate trying to land that first job – unable to contribute due to a lack of professional experience, and yet eager to contribute in any way possible.  The conflict would plague him during his entire career as a Boston Celtic.

“It was hard not getting the minutes that I expected, but it was special to practice against guys like Larry Bird and Dennis Johnson,” said Vincent.  “Every day was like playoff basketball.  Every day you’re going up against superstars like Robert Parish, Kevin McHale and Bill Walton.  It doesn’t take you long to figure out how fortunate you are to be a part of something like that.  In the years since, I have gained a deeper appreciation for the thrill of playing with all of those Hall-of-Fame players.  It was a truly great ride.”

The Celtics finished the regular season with a 67-15 record and then stormed through the playoffs, the Houston Rockets nothing more than a speed bump on the road to basketball glory.  Vincent celebrated the Celtics’ record 16th championship with the rest of his teammates, slapping high-fives and drinking champagne inside the jubilant locker room, and his appreciation for that transcendent journey into NBA history has only grown stronger through the years.  Traded to Seattle, and then traded again to the Chicago Bulls, Vincent became just one of four players to play with both Larry Bird and Michael Jordan.  Left unprotected by the Bulls in the 1988 expansion draft, Vincent suddenly found himself the property of the Orlando Magic.  He played three seasons there, before a trade to Milwaukee and an Achilles tendon injury short-circuited his dream of returning to the NBA Finals.  He retired, played some basketball overseas, and then discovered a passion for coaching.  In addition to coaching gigs in the NBA Developmental League, Vincent began working with African basketball teams in 1997, starting in South Africa.  In 2004, he served as the head coach of the Nigerian Women’s Olympic Basketball Team.  From Lansing to Boston to Nigeria and beyond, Vincent’s life and career has been a thrill ride indeed.

Celtic Nation is honored to bring you this interview.

You were born on May 18th, 1963, in Lansing, Michigan.  Please tell me a little about your childhood – your family life, your friendships, the sports that you played, and some of the things that led you to the basketball court.

I was one of five boys – my older brother Jay also played basketball.  Actually, that was my biggest motivation for getting involved in athletics.  It really helped to spur my interest in the game, because I looked up to him and I got to follow his career.  I really enjoyed watching him play.  He was a good role model for me, and someone who also turned out to be a pretty good player [laughs].  I aspired to achieve the same kind of success on the basketball court.

Family life was about growing up middle class in Lansing, Michigan, with a mom and a dad and the same sorts of things that other middle class families had during that timeframe.  We lived in a good neighborhood, had plenty of friends, and didn’t get into a lot of trouble.  My dad actually passed away when I was six years old.  It was a big loss for our family, and a painful period in my life.  So it was more of a single-parent home following that.  We had to make adjustments as a family, which was hard for everyone to deal with at first, but we stuck together and supported each other.  In that respect, it helped to make us stronger.

I went to school in Lansing, and I have plenty of fond memories about my time in Lansing’s public school system.  All things considered, I guess you could say that I had a pretty normal childhood.  Sports were a big part of my life at that time.  Early on I played a little football and baseball, and even ran a little track.  When I got to junior high school it was narrowed down to just football and basketball.  Baseball just kind of dropped off.  By the time I got to high school it was pretty much just basketball.  That was my focus.

You played your high school basketball at Eastern, were also honored with the inaugural Hal Schram Mr. Basketball Award, symbolic of being the best high school player in the State of Michigan.  What memories from this period stand out in your mind after all of these years?

The love that I had for the sport of basketball.  It was my release, it was my fun time, it was pretty much my everything.  I’d go to the court and shoot, and I’d play a lot by myself.  It was what I enjoyed doing most.  And then as I grew up and became a pretty good player, awards suddenly became pretty important.  Trying to achieve certain things on the court, and then be recognized for my efforts – as I moved on into high school, those things became pretty important to me.

As a senior In 1981, you were honored as a McDonald’s High School All-American.  How did it feel to be recognized as one of the best high school players in the country?

Great feeling.  In retrospect, I think those accomplishments mean significantly more to me now than they did at that time in my life.  Maybe that’s because I wasn’t fully aware of what I was accomplishing – I was just so involved in playing basketball, and in working hard to succeed on the court, that some of those things were oblivious to me.  I didn’t really have the frame of mind at the time to really appreciate what I was doing.  It was probably immaturity on my part.  But now when I look back at it, and I think about some of those accomplishments, they mean a whole lot more.

You signed to play collegiate basketball at Michigan State.  Please take me back to the recruiting process, and the factors that led you to sign with the Spartans.

 was heavily recruited coming out of Eastern, and by a lot of different programs.  I took the time to go out and visit a few – Wichita State and the University of Hawaii, for example – because I wanted to get some kind of balance in the recruiting process.  I think that Michigan State was always the favorite and the frontrunner – my brother Jay went there, and I was pretty close to Magic [Johnson] at that time.  Staying home was also something that I really wanted to do, and visiting the other schools helped to solidify that in my mind.  So even though I had a chance to run around and see a bunch of different programs, and to get a feel for a lot of different campuses in the process, it all boiled down to two factors – Michigan State was close to home, where I would have the support of my family, and it was also the school where my brother won a national championship.

In 1985, you earned Sporting News All-America honors.  How big a deal was this for you?

Back then I was really caught up in the moment – I was playing hard and working hard, and I really didn’t truly appreciate what I was doing.  Now, as I look back on those accomplishments all over again, they mean even more.  I’ve had a number of years to be removed from all of the hoopla, and I’ve also had a chance to become a basketball coach – and that in itself has helped me understand what goes into becoming a pretty good basketball player.  So now I have a higher level of appreciation for it all.


 

You were also recognized with the George Alderton Male Athlete of the Year award.  How were you able to keep a level head, and not succumb to the ‘Big Man on Campus’ mindset?

A big part of it was focus.  I realized that I wanted to become the best player possible, and that I had to stay focused in order to do that.  I also knew that I had to maintain a level head.  So my main objective throughout that period was to work hard, and to continue doing the things I needed to do in order to become a pretty good collegiate player.  And I also wanted to stay away from anything that was detrimental to that goal.  I stayed out of trouble, went to class, and went to basketball practice.  Those things kept me very busy, and naturally kept me pretty focused.


 

The Boston Celtics selected you with the 20th overall pick in the 1985 NBA Draft.  Please take me back to that experience.  And how has draft changed since then?

Going back to draft day, I remember sitting around the living room waiting for my name to be called.  I remember thinking that I should have gone earlier in the draft – there was a lot of talk that the Chicago Bulls were going to take me at No. 11, because they had just drafted Michael Jordan the year before and needed a point guard – and then kind of feeling disappointed because I slid a little bit.  I wasn’t disappointed to be drafted by the Boston Celtics – it was just the fact that I had slipped to the twentieth overall pick in the draft.  As far as Celtics went, I knew their history and I knew about all of the legends who had made that franchise so great.  I had heard about Bill Russell and John Havlicek.  I general, I knew who they were and some of the things that they had accomplished.  It was exciting from that standpoint.  But growing up, the Boston Celtics really weren’t the team that I fantasized about.  As a young kid, I didn’t step onto the court imagining myself as this guy or that guy – I don’t ever remember pretending to be Nate Archibald, or M.L. Carr, or any of those guys.  But I do remember being excited about my it on draft day, once I got over the disappointment of slipping so far down in the order.  I was thrilled to be picked to play in the NBA, and thrilled to join a team like the Celtics.

 You joined a Celtic team loaded with talent – led by Hall of Fame mainstays Larry Bird, Kevin McHale and Robert Parish.  What was that first training camp like for you, and how quickly were you accepted by these legendary veterans?

The first training camp was tough because I had high expectations coming in.  I thought that I would immediately play and get a lot of minutes, and upon getting there I realized the Celtics were loaded with Hall of Fame guys and great players.  Coach [KC] Jones was more of a veteran kind of coach.  So I think that the realization that I wasn’t going to play proved to be a tough adjustment for me at that time.  I don’t think I had the support structure around me to help me understand that being patient, and waiting for my opportunity, would go a long way toward starting in this league.  I was just wrapped up in wanting to play.

In addition to drafting Sam Vincent, the Celtics’ other big acquisition was the trade that brought Bill Walton to Boston.  Please tell me what Bill meant in terms of the Celtics reclaiming the NBA Championship.

Bill was huge that year.  I think that was probably one of his most successful years.  He came in almost completely healed from the foot ailments that cost him so much playing time prior to that.  He was just so strong – he had been lifting and working out, and it helped him to come off the bench for Robert and just play a physical brand of basketball.  That isn’t to say that he had become just a bruiser; he was still the same great passer he had been through the years, hitting the cutter with those perfect feeds, and he loved working the ball with Larry.  He also seemed to embody what the Celtics were all about, which was selflessness and teamwork.  He was also a hard worker, and was all about winning, attributes which carried over to the rest of the team.
 

The Celtics were virtually unbeatable at home during the 1985-86 season, losing just one game at the fabled Boston Garden.  What made the Garden so special, and what was it like for you to play in front of those great Boston fans?

It was a great feeling!  I remember playing in front of those fans as one of the best basketball times of my life.  I couldn’t really appreciate it then, just like I couldn’t appreciate my high school career until after it was over, but when I look back now – those fans, my teammates, that building, the history – it is purely one of the most special times in my life.
 

When you arrived in Boston, Larry Bird was a two-time league MVP at the height of his powers.  What was it like playing with the great Larry Bird?

Whoa – it was pretty incredible.  Being a rookie, coming in and trying to get playing time, I think that the greatness of Larry Bird may have been lost on me to some degree.  Now, as I look back, I can step outside of that situation and truly appreciate the opportunities that I’ve had, and the moments that I’ve had with some truly incredible players – and Larry Bird was that the forefront of that.  I think that perspective has helped shape some of my coaching philosophy.

 On April 20th, 1986, the Boston Celtics hosted the Chicago Bulls in Game 2 of their opening round playoff series.  When it was over the Celtics had a commanding 2-0 series lead, but the game really belonged to Michael Jordan.  Please take me back to Michael’s 63-point coming out party.

It was a very special performance.  I think we came into that game feeling like we were the more mature team, the better team, and the more confident team.  We knew that we were playing a younger team, and one that was clearly up-and-coming.  We also knew that Michael Jordan was going to be something special.  The thing that stands out now is the shear variety of shots that he made, from everywhere on the court.  It wasn’t just jumpers, and it wasn’t just dunks.  He was everywhere on the court.  He was hitting bank shots, shots in traffic, shots with guys draped all over him.  He was making moves that left guys flat-footed.  It was just an outstanding performance by a truly special player.

The Celtics stormed through the playoffs, meeting the Houston Rockets in the 1986 NBA Finals.  What was it like for you to be on the biggest stage in basketball?

It was an absolutely great feeling.  But being a rookie, and in awe of where I was and the guys that I was playing with, I had a hard time fully appreciating the situation.  I didn’t fully understand how special an opportunity that was for me.  I look back now with incredible pride, because it was an honor to be a teammate to such a talented group of players.
 

That series included the memorable for fight between Jerry Sichting and Ralph Sampson in Game 5.  Sampson was rudely welcomed back in Boston for Game 6, where fans booed him mercilessly and held up signs that read ‘Sampson is a sissy’.  What was the mood of the team in the locker room prior to that title-clinching Game 6, and was there ever any doubt that the series would end with this game?

I don’t know that we were so confident that we felt the series was going to end, but the mood of the team was one of incredible focus.  We were very energetic, and motivated to take care of business.  There was a very tough energy in that locker room, and a very deep focus on the part of all our guys.  We were definitely prepared to play.
 

With exactly eleven minutes left in regulation, Larry Bird passed up an inside shot and instead sprinted for the three-point line.  His shot became the signature moment of the signature game in the series, and provided the knockout blow that the team and its title-hungry fans.  Please take me Larry’s performance in Game 6.

Like always, you expected Larry to come out and take tough shots – and make tough shots.  He was our leader, and the guy you went to when things were dire, and he responded like a true superstar in that game.  I think he was the most focused player in that game, and he wanted to make a statement with the world watching.  That particular play is a prime example of how well focused he was, and how determined he was to achieve his goal of winning another championship.  He knew all of his options available to him on that play, and he had the presence of mind to navigate beyond the three-point line and deliver that killer blow.

 As a rookie, what was it like for you to win a ring?  And what does it mean to you now, twenty years later?

As a rookie, I was a young guy caught up in the moment.  I wanted to play more, there were a lot of great players ahead of me, so it was a case of wanting to contribute more to the team’s success.  So I wasn’t as appreciative then as I am now.  Now, I look back at all of those Hall-of-Fame players and I understand that it helped to mold me into the person that I’ve become.  It has helped me to become a better coach, and it has helped me to develop the younger players in a way that maybe I couldn’t have otherwise.
 

You played 43 games for Seattle SuperSonics, teaming with future Celtic Xavier McDaniel.  Please tell me about your experience in Seattle in general, and about Xavier McDaniel in particular.

My experience in Seattle was probably one of the toughest times in my career.  I think I was still pretty disappointed about the trade.  I still felt that I didn’t get the opportunity that maybe I should have in Boston.  On the other hand, I also thought the additional playing time that I received in Seattle was great – it was a welcome change – but at the same time, I had trouble getting over the circumstances that put me in a Sonic uniform.  I felt that it affected my development as a player, and it was something that I struggled with the rest of my career.  So, with that said, I think my time in Seattle was pretty disgruntled.  I just wasn’t happy.  But even with all of that going on, Xavier and I had a great relationship.  I enjoyed being there with him – he was a tough competitor, a tough guy, and a tough player.

You were traded from Seattle to Chicago for Sedale Threatt.  In Chicago, you enjoyed the best statistical numbers of your career:  13 points and 8.4 rebounds-per-game.  What was this experience like for you, and what was it like to team with a young Michael Jordan?

It was great experience.  I think I played a little bit better because I was around a team that was more my age, unlike the veteran situations in Boston and Seattle.  The guys on that Bulls team were pretty much my peers, age-wise, and because of that I was able to be a little more relaxed.  Playing with Michael was a great feeling.  He was the consummate pro – a hard worker who expected the best out of everyone, including himself.  Hw was also a super-duper-star [laughs].  I feel that I really learned a lot from him, as far as how to conduct myself as a player in the National Basketball Association.

You began working with African basketball teams in 1997, starting in South Africa.  In 2004, you were the head coach of the Nigerian Women’s Olympic Basketball Team.  Please tell me about your experience in Athens.

I was a special time, because it made me feel like I was doing something that very few people have ever had the opportunity to do.  Being an American coach of a foreign national team was a proud moment for me.  My work with that team didn’t show up in wins and losses, or medals for that matter – we won one game, which was an Olympic first for Nigeria, but it was the start of something that will one day pay dividends for that country.  I was able to fit into that role because of my experience in the NBA, and also because of my coaching experience in the WNBA and the NBA Developmental League.  It helped prepare me for the task at hand.

I hear that you will be coaching the men’s Olympic team in Beijing.

I’m coaching the men’s team at the world championships in Japan this coming summer, and then we have to qualify for the Olympic Games by doing well in Angola.  I anticipate that we’ll do well enough there to compete in Beijing.

Final Question:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  You are universally respected and admired by many people, both inside and outside of the NBA.  If you could offer one piece of advice on life to others, what would that be?

Understand how important your actions are, because your actions impact so many people.  Always work as hard as you can in every aspect of your life, whether it is a family relationship or a professional relationship, because what you put into those relationships is what you’re going to get out.

http://www.celtic-nation.com/interviews/paul_westphal/paul_westphal_page1.htm

Paul Westphal: WEST SIDE STORY

The Paul Westphal Interview
By:  Michael D. McClellan | Thursday, September 11^th, 2003

I knew that Paul Westphal was special long before I ever had the pleasure of speaking with him about his basketball successes, of which there are many.  The year was 1989, and I caught a television news report that the Phoenix Suns were going to retire Westphal’s jersey to their ‘Ring of Honor’.  Westphal, of course, played his first three NBA seasons with the Boston Celtics, winning a championship in 1974 while studiously preparing to crack Team Green’s starting lineup.  I’d always admired Westphal – or Westy, as he is affectionately known to legions of fans – so I decided to keep tabs on his special day, knowing full-well that his number 44 would have been raised to the Boston Garden rafters had he remained a Celtic.

At some point following the retirement ceremony, I learned that Jerry Colangelo, the Suns’ longtime owner, had offered to lavish Westphal with gifts befitting his newly-minted status of Official Phoenix Suns Legend.  Westphal graciously declined, asking Colangelo to instead donate money to start an education fund with the Christian Family Care Agency, in the name of Armin Westphal, his late father.  That stuck with me.  In a world run amok with athletes who’ve lost touch with reality, Westphal was a clean and refreshing breath of fresh air.

Flash-forward to September 11th, 2003.  I have a date to interview Westphal, but I’m not sure whether he’ll remember my name or that we’re supposed to talk.  He’s a busy man, the head basketball coach at Pepperdine University, and fresh off an extended recruiting trip in Europe.  And on top of that, the Malibu-based school for which he works is now back in session.

My fears are allayed moments later, as Westphal points out that he’s been expecting me.  He is kind, courteous, and unpretentious – all of the things that I’d imagined him to be – and I find myself enraptured as he recounts his brief-but-eventful tenure with the Celtics.  I listen to him and I get the sense that he is genuinely enthused to be doing this interview – even though he’s done countless others before.  Our conversation ranges from his childhood in Redondo Beach, California, to matching wits with Phil Jackson and Michael Jordan in the NBA Finals.  Through it all, Westphal remains both spontaneous and upbeat, and one gets the sense that, deep down, Westy is still a Celtic at heart.

CELTIC-NATION
You were born in 1950, the same year that J.D. Salinger penned his classic novel “The Catcher in the Rye”.  Please tell me a little about your childhood during the 1950s, and how you first became interested in playing basketball.

 PAUL WESTPHAL
I grew up playing basketball at a very early age, and I was fortunate to have an older brother who played ball with me in the backyard.  At the time I was a little guy who just wanted to join in the fun, and I would cry if I didn’t get to play [laughs].

 My brother and my father both taught me a great deal about the game.  I often found myself playing against older kids, which meant that they were usually bigger and stronger, and I benefited greatly from those experiences.  It certainly furthered my development as a basketball player, both from a fundamentals standpoint and a confidence standpoint.  My dribbling and ball handling skills improved tremendously.

CELTIC-NATION
You graduated from Redondo Beach's Aviation High in 1968, where you were named CIF “Player of the Year” as a senior after averaging 32.5 points a game.  What was the social and political climate like during this phase of your life, and did it affect your basketball in any way?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Redondo Beach was pretty much a bubble, and in many respects we really weren’t affected by the turbulence of the times.  It was a great place to grow up.  There was no tension in our neighborhood, and you could go outside and play without fear.  It was a great childhood – I rode my bike everywhere, played baseball, you name it. 

My father was an aeronautical engineer, and very much devoted to his family.  We had a comfortable lifestyle.  We weren’t rich by any means, but we didn’t have to scratch, either.  It wasn’t a hard existence.  We had everything we needed, really.

Basketball allowed me to travel quite a bit, and somewhere during this period I gained a reputation for being a pretty good player.  I was just as comfortable going up against the inner-city kids from Compton as I was the competition in Redondo Beach.  I took great pride in my ability to excel in these environments.

CELTIC-NATION
The 1960s was known for many things – Vietnam, JFK, Martin Luther King, the Beatles.  It was also the decade of dominance for the Boston Celtics.  Did you follow the Celtics at all, and what were your impressions of those great battles with the Los Angeles Lakers?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
yes, I was very much aware of the Celtics’ accomplishments, as well as the intense rivalry that existed between the two teams.  For his part, Chick Hearn put Laker basketball on the map.  By listening to him I gained a true appreciation for those battles between the Lakers and Celtics.  I knew about the great Bill Russell and the legendary Red Auerbach and all of those great teams, and I’m proud to have been a part of that storied tradition.  Even though I played in Boston for just three seasons – and never started a game [laughs] – I still consider myself a Boston Celtic.  There are still people today – especially those who followed the game closely at that time – who still associate me with the Celtic organization.

My  connection to the Celtics actually goes back further than my playing career.  I can say that I was there the night Bob Cousy played his last game.

CELTIC-NATION
How old were you?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
I was on an all-star team in junior high.  We would travel and play exhibitions, and one of our games happened to coincide with Cousy’s farewell.  We played at halftime, and I remember how special that occasion was…I have nothing but fond memories of that event.

CELTIC-NATION
You were a three-time All-Pacific 8 Conference performer and a two-time All-American at USC, which is the same school attended by former Celtic great Bill Sharman.  Were you aware of Mr. Sharman’s basketball accomplishments, and did you think you would follow him into the NBA?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Sure I did.  I was very familiar with Bill’s career, both as a player and as a coach.  He was highly respected, and it was an honor to be follow in his footsteps at USC.  He enjoyed success on so many levels, winning championships as a player with the Celtics and later as coach of the Lakers.

CELTIC-NATION
As a junior, USC compiled a 24-2 record during the 1970-71 campaign, with the only two losses being to cross-town rival UCLA.  Please tell me a little about John Wooden.  Also, did he influence your coaching in any way?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Yes, Coach Wooden has been a tremendous influence on me.  In my opinion he is the greatest collegiate basketball coach the game has ever known, and I also feel that Red Auerbach holds the same distinction at the professional level.  And although I didn’t play for either of them, I certainly feel that I’ve studied under both of these great men.  They are so different and yet so very much the same.  Both were obviously influenced by their environments, with Coach Wooden living out west and Red being born and raised in New York.  But at the core, both have so much in common, especially basketball-wise.  Both understand the importance of playing unselfish, team-oriented basketball, and both have that rare ability to cut directly to what matters most in a given situation.

CELTIC-NATION
You were selected in the first round of the 1972 NBA Draft (10^th pick overall) by the Boston Celtics.  In today’s NBA that would have made you a lottery selection.  Please take me back to that draft.  Tell me where you were and what you were doing, and how the draft has changed since that special day in 1972.

 PAUL WESTPHAL
The NBA Draft has changed dramatically since 1972.  The most obvious and visible transformation is television; today’s draft is a feature event with extensive media coverage, whereas in’72 it might be covered by radio, the evening news, or page seven of the next day’s newspaper.  It just wasn’t such a big production back then.

Another difference is the immediacy of today’s draft.  I didn’t realize who drafted me until Mary Wayland, who was Red’s secretary at the time, called to tell me that I’d been chosen by the Celtics.  Back then, players received telegrams letting them know which team had chosen them.  My telegram was delivered to the wrong destination – Southern California College instead of USC – so I didn’t actually receive mine until two days later [laughs].

As for the draft itself, I had absolutely no idea where I’d end up being taken.  I’d injured my knee during my senior year at USC and missed the second half of the season, and that made it difficult to figure out where I’d go.  I felt that I could have been anywhere from the top two or three players selected to not being drafted at all.  Because of my knee, the Celtics took a big chance on me.  They had no idea whether it would be sound enough to withstand the rigors of NBA basketball, and that made their selection somewhat of a gamble.

CELTIC-NATION
You joined the Celtics in the fall of 1972.  please take me back to your first NBA training camp.

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Today it can take an NBA player up to three days just to pass a physical.  Why?  Because the monetary concerns dictate that teams be much more thorough when it comes to a player’s health.  When I played, I took my physical a full ten minutes before the first practice [laughs].  There was a doctor on a stool in the locker room, and his examination wasn’t much more than a simple turn-of-the-head-and-cough.

I remember playing outdoors, on asphalt – that stands out in my mind because of my knee.  We practiced at Camp Milbrook and at the Massachusetts Maritime Academy.  Red wasn’t the coach but he was always there.  We would practice defense for an hour in the mornings, and then follow that with an hour-long scrimmage.  The afternoon session was focused primarily on the offense, so we’d run through our offensive sets for an hour and then go straight into another scrimmage.  It was hard.  There were times when we’d practice to the point of exhaustion.

The Celtics had a great system in place for bringing along young players.  The coaching staff didn’t yell at the young guys, so they weren’t scared or afraid to make a mistake.  It was a very educational experience, and one that was helpful in my development as a professional basketball player.

CELTIC-NATION
The Celtics won 68 games during your rookie season, still a team record.  Was it a bittersweet accomplishment, given that the team lost in the conference finals to the Knicks?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
This was one of the times when I felt that the best team in the NBA didn’t win the championship.  We had a phenomenal year, but Havlicek was hurt and couldn’t raise his arm above his shoulder.  He just wasn’t himself.  It was a very disappointing series.

It was one of those series where nothing seemed to go right for us.  I remember the ref making a horrible call on a lob pass that I caught in midair.  When I caught the ball I was going to shoot it, but it just didn’t feel right in my hands.  I decided to come down with the ball and then go back up, but the referee called traveling on the play.  That call cost us possession of the basketball.  The whole series seemed to be like that.

CELTIC-NATION
Dave Cowens was named the league MVP following the 1972-73 season.  Please tell me what you remember most about Dave’s play that year.

 PAUL WESTPHAL
[Pause].  What can I say?  There is so much, but if I had to pick one thing it would be the intensity that Dave brought to the court.  The look in his eyes is something that I can’t find words to adequately describe.  You had to see that look for yourself to know what I’m talking about.  It was scary.  He was so focused on the game.  It didn’t matter whether it was ripping down a big rebound or diving for a loose ball.  Dave and Paul [Silas] were quite a combination on the boards.

CELTIC-NATION
Tom Heinsohn was your coach while with the Celtics.  Do you see any of Tom’s traits in your own coaching?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
I hope so.  Tommy is such a special person – not to mention my first professional coach.  He had more success and received more criticism than anyone I’ve ever known, and much of this had to do with him following in Red’s footsteps as the head coach of the Boston Celtics.  When Tommy was winning a lot of people assumed that Red was coaching behind the scenes.  It was unfair, and very much a sore spot with him.

Tommy was an intense competitor, both as a player and a coach, and at times he felt he could win by the sheer force of his will.  It was easy to see how much he cared about the Celtics.  He played as hard as anybody, and he coached the same way.

CELTIC-NATION
He was eventually replaced on the bench by another former Celtic great, Satch Sanders.  You were in Phoenix by then, but do you have any thoughts on what prompted the change?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Tommy regarded the Boston Celtic organization as a part of his family, and as with any family there are going to be problems.  In Tommy’s case, several of his players were also former teammates.  This familiarity became a negative in terms of undermining his authority – you would see players roll there eyes when he was trying to make a point – and over time this may have taken its toll.

CELTIC-NATION
The legendary Red Auerbach – everyone has a story.  Do you have one in particular that stands out?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
One story?  Anyone who has ever played for Red has heard his stories at least three times, and the ones that have been around him for years, like John Havlicek and Nellie, have heard each one at least 50 times [laughs].

Seriously, there is no exaggerating how good Red was when it came to basketball.  The man was a true genius.  He built the Celtics into champions three different times and is responsible for all sixteen banners.  You don’t do that by accident.  A lot of his critics like to say that Bill Russell was the reason for Red’s success, but I don’t agree with that assessment.  Red understood that you had to be lucky – the trade that landed Russell is a perfect example – but he also made the most out of the opportunities that came his way.  So to say that Russell was the sole reason for his success isn’t a valid argument.  He had a gift.  He won before Russell, and he won after Russell was gone.

There is another misconception about Red – that he was hard to play for.  In fact it was quite the opposite.  When people think of Red they tend to think of him screaming his head off, but Red really didn’t scream at his players.  He saved all of that for the poor referees [laughs].  He was a great teacher, and he knew how to treat his players.  He supported them.

When I was with the Celtics, Red would somehow always make his way over to me and share something he noticed during a game.  Maybe something was wrong with my shot, or the way I dribbled or defended.  Whatever the case, Red would always seem to join me at adjoining urinal as I waited for a shower, and he would tell me one thing that I needed to work on during the next practice.  I learned so much from him during my career with the Celtics.

CELTIC-NATION
You’ve said that Elgin Baylor is the player you most admired.  I grew up a short distance from Jerry West’s hometown – did you follow Jerry when he played for the Lakers?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Absolutely.  I admired Jerry, and early on people often compared the two of us.  I guess part of it was because we were both white, but our games were quite dissimilar prior to my knee injury.  Jerry was a guard in the classic sense – he had that beautiful, pure jump shot – whereas I was more apt to drive to the basket.  So from a physical standpoint I had a resemblance to Jerry, but from an aesthetic standpoint I more closely resembled Elgin Baylor.  And to a large degree I modeled my game after Baylor.  He had that one-legged jumper, which became a part of my game, and he drove the basketball much more than Jerry did.  I emulated him.  I would go into the paint and create, sometimes throwing up those crazy shots like Baylor [laughs].  After the knee injury I altered my style of play somewhat, becoming more of the traditional perimeter player like Jerry.

CELTIC-NATION
Your second season with the Celtics brought with it an NBA Championship – the team’s first without the great Bill Russell.  Please tell me about that memorable Game 6 in the Finals against the Milwaukee Bucks.

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Kareem hit the skyhook from the corner as time ran out.  I remember it well because it happened right in front of me; I was watching from the bench [laughs]!  The whole series was memorable, and for a number of reasons.  The home team clearly didn’t have an advantage, and I believe that was because of the incredible adjustments made by both coaches.  That series was one of the best examples of counter-punching I’ve ever seen.  To win it, to beat Oscar Robertson and Kareem for the title…that was just a special feeling.  Incredible.  And I was so young that I thought it would always be like that [laughs].

CELTIC-NATION
Game 7 was played in Milwaukee.  What was the mood of the team going into such a pressure-packed road game?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
We were confident going back to Milwaukee because homecourt advantage clearly didn’t apply in this series.  We knew that we were going to be fine.  We just went into that game and let it rip, and when it was over we were the world champions.

CELTIC-NATION
You were traded to the Phoenix Suns following the 1974-75 season, your third in the league, and not because the Celtics had given up on you.  That was the farthest from the truth – the Celtics, in fact,  felt you were on the verge of very big things in the league.  Please explain the mechanics behind the trade, and what it was like to change organizations so early in your career.

 PAUL WESTPHAL
The trade hit me by surprise, quite frankly.  The Celtics hadn’t dealt a player in nearly ten years, which was understandable given their success, so for them to trade anyone from their roster was something of a shock.  I just assumed that I was a part of the Celtics’ future plans.

Back then the NBA Players Association sponsored an annual offseason trip to Rio, and I was actually on my way there when I learned the news.  I found out during a layover in New York.  Red’s secretary got hold of me and told me that I’d been traded to Phoenix for Charlie Scott.  It took some time for it to sink in, but it didn’t take long to realized how much the Suns thought about me.  It was very flattering to be traded for an established NBA star like Charlie, who’d been a 25 point-per-game scorer with Phoenix, especially when I’d played three seasons with the Celtics and hadn’t started a game.  I assumed that I’d finally be starting for the Celtics in my fourth year, but it turned out that I was starting for the Suns instead.

The biggest adjustment was from going to a perennial championship contender to a team near the bottom of the standings.  This wasn’t something that I was accustomed to, but we were able to turn things around in a relatively short timeframe.

CELTIC-NATION
The trade with Phoenix took on additional significance when the Celtics and Suns squared off during the 1976 NBA Finals.  What did it feel like, facing your former teammates with a championship at stake?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
There was a great deal of familiarity there.  I’d been a Boston Celtic for three seasons, so there really wasn’t fear on my part in terms of playing against the Celtics or facing the Celtic mystique.  We knew how good we were, and that we could play on a championship level.  It was different being in the visitor’s locker room after spending so much time on the other side.

CELTIC-NATION
Game 5 is forever immortalized because of its triple-overtime drama, and has been dubbed “The Greatest Game Ever”.  You played a large role in that series.  Please take me back and share some of the memories that still stand out.

 PAUL WESTPHAL
There are so many memories from that game, which makes it very hard to pick one thing.  When I look back I think about all of the little things that we could have done differently to win that game.  I suppose that’s the coach in me.  There’s nothing you can do to change the outcome – that’s basketball – but it still hurt to lose that game and the series as well.  As time has passed, I’ve come to realize what a privilege and an honor it was to be a part of something that special, regardless of which side you were on.  That’s the thing that stands out most now, and the losing pales in comparison to the bigger picture of what we accomplished in that series.

CELTIC-NATION
In many ways you bring to mind another famous Celtic – Don Nelson.  Both of you have excelled as players and coaches.  Please tell me about your former teammate.

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Don Nelson taught me a great deal – to me, the man is the personification of genius.  He’s one of the most innovative, successful coaches the league has ever known.  He has taken his share of hits over the years, in large part because he is so innovative and unafraid to take chances, but in my mind he is one of the greatest coaches in the league.

As a player he wasn’t the most talented, but he made up for any lack of talent with great desire.  He was a true competitor.  He worked and developed that mid-range shot, which was his primary weapon, and used it to great advantage.

Another thing about Don Nelson; when I joined the Celtics he used to butter me up, pay me a lot of compliments.  He’d tell me he was going to throw me the ball during games, but I didn’t realize that he was working me, that he was really making sure that I’d pass him the ball so that he could shoot [laughs]!

Don was a smart player, and he kept things simple on the court.  You loved having him as a teammate, because everything he did was done within the context of helping the team to win.

 CELTIC-NATION
Which did you enjoy the most – playing or coaching in the NBA Finals?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Playing.  There is no substitute for playing for a world championship.  Coaching, of course, was the next-best thing.

CELTIC-NATION
Paul Silas and Charles Barkley – you played with one and coached the other.  Please compare these two great rebounders.

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Paul Silas was completely dedicated and very single-minded in terms of what he was on the court to do; rebound and play defense.  He did both with a zeal that made him one of the great power forwards in the league.  He was such a hard worker.  He never took a night off.

Charles was a much more gifted player, and because of that his focus wasn’t as narrow.  He could rebound and play defense as well as anyone in the league, but he was also a scorer and a pretty good passer.  He didn’t live to play defense the way that Paul did, either.  I think that was just part of being Charles Barkley.  He was so good that at times the game seemed too easy for him.  That’s where the humorous side of his personality would take over.  There were times when he’d clown on the court, and I think that was partly because he was so much better than most of the players on the court.  I have as much affection for Charles Barkley as I do for anyone I’ve ever been associated with.
 

CELTIC-NATION
In your first season as an NBA coach, your Phoenix Suns won a franchise-record 62 games.  In the process you broke Bill Russell’s NBA record for victories by a rookie coach.  Where does this accomplishment rank?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
I don’t really look at coaching records as a personal accomplishment, so I really don’t pay much attention to these types of things.  Coaching records are the result of the players you have and not really anything that you bring to the table.  And to me, looking at a record isn’t the best and most effective way to judge the success of a coach.  There have been years when I haven’t had success in terms of wins and losses, and yet I feel that I’ve done some of my best coaching.

CELTIC-NATION
During the 1994-95 season, you became the second-fastest NBA head coach to win 150 games, accomplishing the feat in 208 games, just five games shy of the all-time mark held by Phil Jackson.  What was it like to match wits with Phil on basketball’s biggest stage?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
It was a magical year.  We played the Chicago Bulls for the NBA Championship, we had two NBA Most Valuable Players on the court in Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley, and the spotlight was so big for that series.

CELTIC-NATION
Final Question, one that I’ve been asking your former players:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  You are universally respected and admired by many people, both inside and outside of the NBA.  If you could offer one piece of advice on life to others, what would that be?

 PAUL WESTPHAL
Bill Russell was once asked about winning, and how hard it was to keep coming back year-after-year to do it again when the entire league was gunning to take you down.  Bill responded by saying that there is no ultimate victory.  You win, and you have to come back and try to do it again. 

Basketball has been a huge part of my life, and it has given me so much in this world.  It is a large part of who I am.  The important thing for me is to keep it all in perspective.  I would trade it all away rather than lose touch with what matters most – God and family.

So my advice would be to remember that there is no ultimate victory in this life, and that you have to find out what really matters most – and that true success occurs only after you establish a solid relationship with God.

http://www.celtic-nation.com/interviews/larry_siegfried/larry_siegfried_page1.htm

Larry Siegfried : STRAIGHT SHOOTER
 

The Larry Siegfried Interview

By:  Michael D. McClellan | Tuesday, May 16^th, 2006

He was a high school phenom, a Paul Bunyan in basketball shorts, and a player who could score points in bunches from all angles on the court.  His 176-point eruption in a one month span during his senior season at Shelby High remains laced across the record books in the State of Ohio, a testament to his telekinetic court presence and deadeye marksmanship.  Few at that level have ever played the game better.  Fewer still would argue that claim.  He was a virtuoso in high tops, equally adept at pulling down rebounds and dishing out assists, and the kind of player perfectly suited to join John Havlicek and Jerry Lucas on a championship quest at Ohio State.  That Larry Siegfried would follow Havlicek to professional glory with the Boston Celtics is hardly surprising.  Siegfried’s sweet shooting touch and trip-hammer release translated well from high school to college, and then again into the pros, and his presence on the Celtic roster helped keep basketball’s greatest dynasty rolling through the close of the 1960s.

Siegfried’s story begins modestly, on the rolling farmland just outside of Shelby, Ohio, where his father worked in a local factory and Siegfried spent countless hours shooting baskets against the family barn.  The ball and the hoop were relatively inexpensive toys for a blue-collar family on a budget.  Siegfried often shot alone, honing his jumper, playing imaginary games against All-Americans like Ralph Beard and Alex Groza of Kentucky, or Dick Schnittker of Ohio State.  It proved to be the perfect training ground for an eager young athlete blessed with an abundance of God-given natural talent.

While the young Siegfried’s game seemed to improve daily, it positively blossomed during his standout prep career at Shelby High School – especially in 1957, when no Northern Ohio League scoring record proved safe.  With a coach determined to make the most of his talents, Siegfried found himself playing both inside and out, rarely resting on the bench during his phenomenal senior season.  And for good reason; the All-State guard was strong enough to battle for position under the boards, yet quick enough to take his man off the dribble at the top of the key.  The constant movement was a headache for opposing coaches tasked with slowing him down.  Siegfried averaged a whopping 38 points-per-game during that final campaign in ‘57, leading Shelby to a state basketball championship.  He was named co-recipient of Ohio’s player-of-the-year in the process, an award won the next season by future Ohio State teammate Jerry Lucas.

For Siegfried, playing for his home state Buckeyes seemed a match made in heaven; the team was a national power, and recruiters were promising a system built around his athleticism and versatility.  Adding to the allure was the presence of head coach Fred Taylor, easily one of the top coaches in the nation, and the prospect of playing close to home, in front of family and friends.  Siegfried eagerly signed with Ohio State and headed off for Columbus.  He spent his freshman year attending classes while acclimating himself to the Buckeye basketball program.  Almost immediately, Siegfried began to question his decision; life under Taylor differed vastly from the picture painted by the recruiters, as his sophomore season (under NCAA rules of the day, freshmen weren’t allowed to compete in varsity sports) was one spent competing for playing time and adjusting to a one-dimensional role within the Buckeye offense.  The situation was made more pronounced the following season, with the arrival of Jerry Lucas and John Havlicek, both of whom would go on to storied NBA careers.

Unhappy with his compartmentalized place in the OSU basketball universe, and yet firmly convinced that the 1960 team would be something truly special, Siegfried kept his mouth shut and kept his mind focused on helping his team realize its full potential.  The Buckeyes roared to the 1960 Big Ten Championship that season, fueled by its five starters – all who would become future NBA players:  Siegfried, Lucas, Havlicek, Mel Nowell and Joe Roberts.  Things only got better in the NCAA tournament, as Ohio State dominated California 75-55 to win the 1960 national championship.

"I had a love affair with those kids," the late Fred Taylor would say years later.  "They weren't very sound defensively at the start of the season.  As they progressed, they could play pretty thorny defense."

Siegfried rejoiced with his teammates over the historic victory, but those closest to him understood the uneasy disconnect between player and coach.  Taylor was a strict tactician with a military background.  He stressed defense first, followed by a precision offense, and his teams were always among the most fundamentally sound in the nation.  Siegfried worked well within this system, but he also felt unable to fully utilize his talents while on the floor.  He wanted to showcase all aspects of his game.  It frustrated him to play such a specialized role, but he was a team player above all else, and not the kind to poison a locker room.  Winning was his main thing.

There would be plenty of winning the next season, Siegfried’s last as a member of the Buckeyes.  The team would finish the regular season undefeated, capture another Big Ten Championship, and then make an encore appearance in the championship game.  OSU was 27-0 when it landed in the 1961 final.  Awaiting them was intrastate rival Cincinnati.  The 6’-4” Siegfried averaged 15.2 points in the 27 games prior to the showdown with Bearcats, second only to the 24.9 averaged by Lucas.  With a second consecutive national championship squarely in their sights, the Buckeyes forged a 1-point halftime lead, 39-38, and then found themselves deadlocked with Cincinnati, 61-61, at the end of regulation.  The Bearcats then pulled away, 70-65 in overtime, behind the play of Bob Wiesenhahn and Tom Thacker, ending OSU’s dream of repeating as national champs.

For Siegfried, the loss was hard to swallow.  His selection (along with Lucas) to the All-Tournament team did little to dull the pain, nor did his freshly minted status as a collegiate All-American.  The Cincinnati Royals nabbed him with the third overall selection in the 1961 NBA Draft, opening up what was to have been an exciting new chapter in his life, but the stinging loss to the rival Bearcats still resonated.  He did not want to play in that city, that soon, not after such a bitter defeat.  So he sat out the 1961-62 NBA season instead, playing for the ABL Cleveland Pipers, turning him into Cincinnati’s Public Enemy No.1.  He also refused to don a Royals uniform the following season.  Cincinnati finally gave up on Siegfried a year later, during the 1963-64 regular season, dealing him to St. Louis.  Once there, he was cut loose to make room for a highly-regarded draft choice.

Red Auerbach and the Boston Celtics were kings of the NBA when Siegfried hit the waiver wire, winners of six championships in a seven-year span, including five in a row.  With Bill Russell dominating the league in a way no player had done before, the Celtics were clearly the class of the NBA.  But there were concerns; with Bill Sharman’s retirement in 1961, followed by Bob Cousy’s departure two years later, the Celtics were a team in need of depth in the backcourt.  Sam Jones and KC Jones were playing All-Star basketball, and were arguably as good as any combination in league history, but Auerbach knew that Boston was an injury away from relinquishing its stranglehold on basketball’s biggest prize.  Paying the $1,000 waiver fee to take a chance on an unproven player made perfect sense; if it didn’t work out, he could cut Siegfried loose and try to find another backup point guard.  If it did, then Auerbach had another savvy playmaker who could help his team repeat as world champions.

Siegfried joined the Celtics – and former OSU teammate John Havlicek – midway through the 1963-64 regular season, missing out on Auerbach’s legendary training camp, and averaging 3.3 points over 31 games.  Ironically, the Cincinnati Royals would await Boston in the Eastern Finals, providing Siegfried with an added measure of motivation.  He played sparingly in that series, but he played well when called up, and the Celtics rolled to a 4-1 victory and a chance to win a record sixth consecutive NBA crown.  Three weeks later the Celtics would defeat the San Francisco Warriors 105-99 in Game 5 of the 1964 NBA Finals, and Siegfried would add an NBA Championship to the collegiate title that he had won at OSU.

The following season a mature Larry Siegfried eased comfortably into his niche.  With the benefit of a full training camp under his belt, and with a newfound trust placed in him by Auerbach, Siegfried played in 72 games and upped his scoring average to 6.3 PPG.  Loathe to fill a specific roll at Ohio State, he was now the first guard off of the bench – and loving every minute of it.  The Celtics stormed to a 62-18 regular season record and into the 1965 Eastern Finals.  It was there, in Game 7, that John Havlicek made his incredible steal to preserve a 110-109 lead and send the Philadelphia 76ers packing.  Siegfried, now an official part of the Celtic Family, found himself in a second consecutive NBA Finals.  A 4-1 dispatching of the Los Angeles Lakers brought yet another championship to Boston.  The Celtics, with Siegfried in tow, were now on an undeniable roll of near mythic proportions.

The 1965-66 season would be Auerbach’s last on the bench.  With it came an eighth consecutive NBA crown, and a greater roll for Siegfried.  He finished the season as the team’s third leading scorer (13.7 PPG), this despite not starting, and burnished his reputation as an all-around talent off of the bench.  A year later his average increased yet again, to 14.1 PPG, but the Celtics’ championship run was history.  Wilt Chamberlain and the 76ers were the new kings of the NBA.  Boston, led by player-coach Bill Russell, looked old and unable to continue its dominance of the 1960s.

All of that changed a year later.  The 1967-68 Celtics went 54-28, and then upset the heavily favored Sixers 4-3 in the Eastern Finals.  A 4-2 defeat of the Los Angeles Lakers gave Russell & Co. an incredible 10 titles in twelve years.  Siegfried averaged 12.2 PPG.  More importantly, he now had four NBA championships in five years with the Celtics.

Another championship would follow in 1969.  Russell and Sam Jones would bow out as champions, and the team would go into rebuilding mode.  Tommy Heinsohn would take over as head coach, and the team would select All-American guard Jo Jo White from Kansas in the 1969 NBA Draft.  A year later the Celtics left Siegfried unprotected in the NBA expansion draft.  He would play parts of two seasons for the San Diego/Houston Rockets, and then finish his career after 21 games with the Atlanta Hawks.  Through it all he remained a Celtic at heart, thankful for his place in history and his role on greatest dynasty the NBA has ever known.

Celtic Nation is honored to bring you this interview.

You were born on May 22nd, 1939, in Shelby, Ohio.  Please tell me a little about your childhood; your family, your friendships, and some of the things that led you to the basketball court.

Well, first of all, I was raised on a farm, so I spent most of my youth around the farm on working on the farm.  We also had a small house in Shelby, which is where I was raised.  I guess I started playing basketball because it was something that I could do by myself.  I came from a very modest family.  My father worked in a factory.  I didn’t have all of the toys that everyone else had, so I had to figure out something that I could do on my own.  Basketball was a cheap play and didn’t require anyone else to be there, so that’s kind of how I got started.  Dad bought me a basketball and put up a hoop.  I remember playing alone, for hours on end, out there by the garage.

You played high school basketball at Shelby High School – please take me back to this period in your life; what memories remain with you after all of these years?

Being a farm type of kid, I had a pretty good work ethic.  Being competitive also helped.  My senior year was a wild experience, because we got beat in the regional finals and I averaged over forty points per game.  It was fun because my versatility helped to carry us that far.  As I look back, my high school coach was smart enough to recognize that I could do a lot of things real well.  At that time I was 6’3” or 6’4”, and I played center, forward and guard.  And my coach always used to say that if I was going to make it in college, then I was going to have to make it as a guard.  So he structured the offense in a way that allowed me to play outside as well as inside.  From that experience I was able to learn all of the positions of the game of basketball.  It helped the team because, at that time, a 6’4” guard was unheard of at the high school level.  Heck, even when I was at Ohio State, there weren’t that many guards in the Big Ten that size.  Oscar [Robertson] played forward in college.  He may have brought the ball up the court because he had that ability, but he wasn’t what I’d call a legitimate guard.  I played guard.

On the one hand, being able to do a lot of things as a high school basketball player was a very positive e