By: Michael D. McClellan | To a generation of Boston Celtics fans, M.L. Carr was the towel-waving agitator best remembered for antagonizing Lakers players and fans alike during that epic 1984 NBA Finals. To another generation of fans, Carr was the Celtics’ coach and general manager during some of the darkest days in franchise history, overseeing one of the team’s worst seasons in a failed attempt to land Wake Forest star Tim Duncan. Either way, Carr’s mark on the Boston Celtics is indelible. He is a member of the ’81 and ’84 Celtic championship teams that overcame long odds to hang banners in the old Boston Garden, and he remains fiercely proud of his connection to one of the NBA’s greatest franchises.
Yes, M.L. Carr still bleeds green.
“There’s not another organization in sports that matches it,” he says quickly. “The Boston Celtics epitomize greatness and tradition. The Lakers are close, but they’re still looking up at us. Just the way I like it.”
Carr’s road to basketball success started at tiny Guilford College in Greensboro, North Carolina. Picked by the Kansas City Kings in the fifth round of the 1973 NBA Draft, Carr also found himself selected by the ABA’s Kentucky Colonels. However, the Wallace, North Carolina native quickly learned that the path to the pros wouldn’t be easy; cut by both the Kings and Colonels, Carr balled for the Hamilton Pat Pavers and the Scranton Apollos of the Eastern Basketball Association before playing for Israel Sabras in the European Pro Basketball league.
The year in Israel allowed Carr to hone his skills and grow as a player – he led Israel Sabras to a league title, topping the league in scoring and finishing second in rebounding en route to being named Most Valuable Player – before signing a one-year contract with the Spirits of St. Louis, a year before the league folded.
Carr’s brief ABA career earned him a spot on the league’s All-Rookie team. It was enough to catch the eye of the Detroit Pistons, and Carr wasted little time signing his first NBA contract. He would play three seasons in a Detroit uniform before signing a free agent contract with the Celtics, his arrival coinciding with the arrival of Indiana State forward Larry Bird and head coach Bill Fitch, returning Boston its familiar place among the NBA’s elite.
Winners of 29 games a season earlier, the Celtics would finish 61-21 during the 1979-80 regular season, reaching the 1980 Eastern Conference Finals. Down 3-1 to the Philadelphia 76ers in the ’81 Eastern Conference Finals, the Celtics rallied to win the series and advance to the 1981 NBA Finals against the Houston Rockets. Six games later, the Celtics were champions and Carr was on top of the basketball world.
“Best feeling in the world,” he says quickly.
The Celtics would win another championship in 1984, defeating the hated Lakers in seven games. It was a classic series, and remains one of the highest-rated NBA Finals in league history. For Celtics fans of a certain age, the lasting image of Carr waving his trademark towel still reverberates.
“Fans identified with M.L. Carr and the towel,” says Bill Walton with a laugh. “They lived vicariously through him, and they loved watching him get under the Lakers’ skin.”
Carr’s NBA career would end 47 games into the 1984-85 regular season, but his work with the Celtics was far from done. He remained connected with team ownership, and in 1994 was named general manager. He also coached the team for two seasons – 1995-96, and 1996-97. It was a dark period in team history – Bird, McHale and Parish were long gone, and the team had lost budding star Reggie Lewis to a heart attack during the summer of ’93. Still, Carr worked hard to restore glory to the once-proud franchise as GM.
“I have no regrets,” he says, settling in for the interview. “I had a good run. I have two NBA championship rings and a lifetime of memories to show for it.”
Please tell me a little about your childhood, and some of the things that led you to the basketball court.
I grew up in the segregated South, in the small town of Wallace, North Carolina. It was an agricultural town. I was twelve years old when I went out to the local golf course to get a job as a caddie. I didn’t know anything about caddying, but I met a man there who would go on to have an incredible impact on my life. His name is Davis Lee. He took me under his wing that day and predicted that, with my attitude and his wallet, we’d make a great partnership. We’ve remained close for 50 years – and he and I are now in business together in Huntsville, Alabama.
Not only did he hire me as a caddie that day, he also convinced me that I should help integrate the local high school. There were people on both sides who didn’t think it was a good idea for me to go to a white high school, but it turned out to be a great decision. He was also the one who convinced me to go out for basketball. I told him that I didn’t like basketball, but he was persistent and really stayed after me. When I told him that I wasn’t a very good player, he countered by paying my way to a basketball camp. It was held at Kimble College – Kimble University now – and it was one of the oldest and largest camps in the country. He said that I’d come back and make the high school basketball team.
How did it turn out?
That camp was a life-changing experience for me. There were two reasons it was such a big deal for me – the legendary John Wooden was there, and so was ‘Pistol’ Pete Maravich. It was an unbelievable experience. Pete pulled me aside and let me hang out with him at the camp – it would be like LeBron James doing that one of the kids at his camp today, or a Larry Bird asking a kid to hang out with him for the week. So that really got me excited about the game.
You played your college ball at Guilford College in Greensboro, NC.
Guilford is about a two-and-a-half hour drive from Wallace, close enough to home but still far enough away to fully experience life on a college campus. My freshman year we placed fourth in the 1970 NAIA Tournament. As a senior we finished with a 29-5 record and defeated the University of Maryland-Eastern Shore in the NAIA championship game. I played forward for Coach [Jack] Jensen, and I learned so much from him. Our team went 101-25 those four years. I averaged 18 points and 12 rebounds my senior year and was name NAIA First Team All-American, but the thing I was most proud of was graduating from Guilford with academic honors and a history degree. The decision to go to Guilford was one of the best decisions I ever made. I’m still involved in the school today.
You took a circuitous route to the Celtics. Please take me back to this period on your life.
I spent three years trying to figure out how to get into either the NBA or the ABA. I was cut from three teams. I ended playing in the old Eastern League, and that’s where Red [Auerbach] discovered me. He thought I could eventually play at the NBA level, so he pulled some strings with a European League team called the Israel Sabras. I experienced success and ended up getting noticed by scouts in both leagues.
How long were you in Israel?
I played one season there. When I came back I decided to play for the ABA’s Spirits of St. Louis under a one-year deal.
What was your time like with the Spirits of St. Louis?
It was a great group of players, a very talented group, but we really weren’t a real good team. We had great individual stars. On paper it was one of the most talented collection of players ever. Moses Malone, Marvin Barnes, Caldwell Jones, Don Chaney, Mike D’Antoni. Joe Mullaney started that season as the head coach, and Rod Thorn finished it. It was a great learning experience for me because both of those men really knew their basketball. It helped to transition me from the ABA to the NBA.
How did you end up playing for the Pistons?
The ABA folded in 1976, and the two leagues merged. I was considered a free agent because I’d only signed for one year, and Detroit was offering me the best deal at the time – it was for three years, so I couldn’t turn that down.
In Detroit you played for Dick Vitale.
Dick Vitale was a very animated coach. He came to the Pistons after coaching the University of Detroit. It was his first pro coaching opportunity. For anyone who’s seen him as an announcer, he was the same way as a coach. He was so intense. The one thing I’ll always remember him for – and thank him for – is that he let me play the third most minutes in the NBA during my free agent year, and that gave me the opportunity to become one of those high-paid athletes.
A year later you join the Celtics. Things weren’t exactly rosy in Boston at the point in time.
The Celtics were in a rebuilding mode and were coming off a lot of turmoil. Dave Cowens was making a real effort to be a part of the rebuild. Tiny Archibald was coming back from an off year. Gerald Henderson and Cedric Maxwell were also a part of that team. We also had this young kid from French Lick that was supposed to be a pretty good player [laughs].
Red wasted little time getting the Celtics back on track.
Red had assembled a good nucleus to build around, and then he started getting rid of the players who were causing all of the problems. He was willing to sacrifice talent but he wasn’t going to sacrifice character. We had a very good year, winning 61 games and reaching the Eastern Conference Finals. Even though we didn’t win it all, that year was crucial because it put us back on track and we became a championship caliber team. The other good thing about season was that it gave me a chance to play with my mentor, Pete Maravich. It was an unbelievable thrill to be on the same team with him.
Let’s talk ’81 Eastern Conference Finals. The Celtics were down 3-1 to the heavily favored 76ers. What happened?
Red explained that we had a great opportunity. He told us not to look at it being down 3-1, that we needed to approach it a game at a time. It’s a cliché, but it was exactly what we were up against. They had to beat us one more time. So Red just kept reinforcing that fact. He just kept saying, ‘Don’t let them beat you.’ I remember being in Game 5 of that series, and getting a rebound and getting fouled by Dr. J. And I’m going to the line and the Sixers call timeout to ice me, and Cedric Maxwell comes over and says, ‘Don’t worry about these foul shots – you make them both and we keep playing. You miss and we get to go on summer vacation.’ It was an incredible comeback, that’s the reality of it, and we knew that once we beat the Sixers that it was pretty much anticlimactic. We knew we were going to beat the Houston Rockets in the NBA Finals.
There wasn’t any doubt?
We knew we were going to win. We’d gone through such an incredible battle with the Sixers that there wasn’t a doubt in the world. Beating the Rockets was a foregone conclusion. We knew there was no way we’d come up short. Talent-wise, we felt we were the superior team, and we had such a will to win after losing to the Sixers the year before and then coming back to beat them to reach the Finals. We knew we were going to take care of business.
What was it like to finally win that championship?
As a Celtics fan growing up I was well aware of the ‘Celtic Mystique’ and what all of those championship banners were all about. And like I said, when we beat the Sixers we knew we were going to win a championship and get to put our own banner up in the rafters of the old Boston Garden. It was so special for me, because of everything I’d been through – being cut, having to play in Israel, everything leading up to me putting on a Celtics uniform. And then to finally win that championship, there’s nothing in the world like that feeling. It overcomes you.
What memory stands out most?
I remember coming back from Houston and landing at the airport, and all of the people that were there to greet us. I’d never in my life experienced anything like that. People were going crazy. And I remember the parade, going through the city with all of the people there, and to me it just felt like it was more than just basketball. I guess it was because we’d just carved out our own place among all of those other great Celtic teams.
Was race ever an issue when you played for the Celtics?
I’m a history major. You go back three years prior to us winning that championship, and it was the height of busing in Boston. There were so many negative connotations around that. I vividly remember seeing the young black men being poked with the American flag, and that was resonating with me as I traveled through the city as a hero. I remember being amazed at how I was being treated, when just three years earlier Boston had given itself such a black eye with that incident. The people were cheering us and celebrating our achievement, honoring us as champions, and I just wished we could have bottled that up and applied it to more than just the Celtics. I wished it could have been used to transform the thinking of an entire region. Obviously Boston has come around and it’s one of the greatest cities in the world right now, but it went through some dark days to get here, and I think the Celtics played a part in helping with that.
The Celtics win the 1981 NBA Championship, only to be swept out of the playoffs the very next year by the Milwaukee Bucks. What happened?
We lost to the Bucks in four, but to be honest, any team in the playoffs that year could have beat us in four games. To be quite frank: We came to the conclusion, as a team, that it was time for our coach to go. I make no bones about that. Bill Fitch was a very good coach, but he was also very strict, and he couldn’t loosen up the reins after we became more of a veteran team. He still wanted to control everything, and he wanted to beat you down over everything, and it eventually wore thin with the team. And I’ll be honest with you – if we were properly motivated, there was no way in the world we would have lost for games to the Milwaukee Bucks that year. No way. But we did lose four in a row because there was some internal stuff going on. If you remember, the next year we won a championship.
Indeed. Red fires Fitch, and replaces him with KC Jones.
Bill Fitch was the perfect coach when the roster was populated with younger, immature guys with very little professional experience. KC Jones was the perfect coach for a veteran team. He worked us hard but he treated us like veterans. He wasn’t soft – he was a very demanding coach who held us to the highest standards set by Celtics teams from the past, and he had a point of reference because he was on so many of those championship teams. He let us know about it: No matter how many rebounds you got, your head couldn’t get too big because [Bill] Russell had gone out and gotten 40. No matter how many points you scored, it didn’t matter because [John] Havlicek had the team record with 56.
As a coach, KC always looked cool under pressure.
He’d played in so many important games where the Celtics would be down six with a minute to go, so he knew how to get the best out of us without leaning on us in a negative way. By the time KC arrived Larry [Bird] had already matured, and he had a bunch of veterans around him – Robert Parish, Kevin McHale, guys like that – so it was an ideal time for KC to take over.
That 1983-84 team was special.
Our motto that year was ‘Don’t Be Denied’. And we weren’t. We won the championship that no one thought we would win.
What do you remember most about beating the Lakers?
The final seconds of Game 7. No one thought we could beat the Lakers. They were the thoroughbreds, we were the Clydesdales. It was a very physical series, and that’s exactly what we wanted because we knew that’s the only way we could beat those guys. If you remember, there was Kevin McHale’s hit on Kurt Rambis, and there was Larry Bird bumping Michael Cooper out-of-bounds. The series was full of things like that. We knew that we had to physically beat them, because they had never played that kind of game. It didn’t take the Lakers long to learn, but in that series it was the element of surprise that we needed. So, for me, being back in the old Boston Garden for Game 7, with twelve seconds left on the clock, and knowing that we were going to be world champions when absolutely no one gave us a chance but us…that is the thing that I remember the most.
That series is still one of the highest rated series in NBA Finals history.
There were so many things that captured the fascination of fans everywhere. You had Jack Nicholson in the stands, giving us the choke sign. You had the fight with Rambis and McHale. You had the East Coast team going up against the West Coast team. Glitz going up against blue collar. And the history between the two teams – that intense rivalry between Bill Russell and Wilt Chamberlain – only added fuel to the fire. It was the perfect storm and it seemed like everyone stopped what they were doing to focus on that series.
Your passion and positive attitude are well known – do you feel like this had an influence on how that series played out?
I think so. My goal was to make sure that we played as loose and as confidently as possible, and if that meant being a cheerleader and a motivator, then that was my role. And at that point in my career I wasn’t on the court a lot. When I did get in the game I tried my best to make a positive impact to help the team – a big steal, a three point shot, a key rebound, a couple of minutes of tough defense, whatever I could contribute. The media didn’t get to see us at practice or behind-the-scenes, but I made sure I kept reminding the guys that this opportunity was special, and that we might not get this chance again. I kept telling them that we had to stay focused and to seize the moment.
In Los Angeles, you were Public Enemy Number One.
People remember me as an antagonist because I waved that towel and got under the opposing team’s skin. That was all part of the plan. If I could take some of the pressure and attention off of Larry, Robert and Kevin, then I was doing my job because they could loosen up and focus on playing basketball. Just leave the antagonizing to me. It was a bravado that got under the skin of the fans more than the players, but it helped us as a team remember who we were. I never let them forget that we were the Celtics and that we expect to win.
Lakers fans have long memories.
[Laughs.] I remember going to LA after that series and a guy at a restaurant refused to serve me. He said he wasn’t going to serve anyone associated with the Boston Celtics. I just said, ‘Great, I don’t want your greasy burgers anyway.’
You won 2 NBA Championships. Which one means the most to you, and why?
The 1984 championship, without a doubt. The first one was really special, but everyone expected us to beat the Houston Rockets. We didn’t have a lot to prove in terms of being the best in the ’81 NBA Finals, because once we got by the Sixers everyone knew that we’d just beaten the best team in the playoffs.
No one thought we’d beat the Lakers in ’84. Even the writers in our own city. We had to prove we were better than Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Magic Johnson, and we were able to do that. That series is talked about today because we were able to defy those odds. So many memories – Gerald Henderson with the big steal, Dennis Johnson with the big baskets when we needed them the most in Game 4, Cedric Maxwell telling us to jump on his back in Game 7 and then delivering with a huge game to help wrap up the series. McHale dominating down low, Larry hitting shots from all over the court. It was a great team effort.
You were cut by the Celtics 47 games into the 1984-85 regular season. Were you prepared for that?
I was, because I knew what getting cut felt like. I didn’t go into the league as a first round pick with lots of money. I made mine the hard way and was able to take care of what I’d made, and I knew that there was another world out there beyond playing professional basketball. And I knew what it was like to work – I’d worked in a federal penitentiary and I’d sold cars on the front side of my career, and I made sure that I learned from my mentors so that I’d be prepared for life after basketball.
What was the transition like?
Robert Kraft, who now owns the New England Patriots, asked me to serve as a board member for Channel 7, which helped me how big businesses work behind the scenes. The president of the Bank of Boston gave me an opportunity to become involved in a community outreach program. Jim Davis, the founder and chairman of New Balance, brought me on as a board member. All of these things helped with the transition, because idle time is the biggest thing any athlete faces when transitioning from their playing days. When the cheers stop coming, the boos stop coming, the ball stops bouncing, and the team camaraderie comes to an end, that’s when everything stops abruptly and there’s a deafening silence that causes a lot of guys to go into a deep depression. They’re not equipped to deal with that. But I was prepared, so I didn’t have to deal with figuring out the next chapter in my life.
You weren’t there for that ’86 championship, but I hear you stayed closely connected to the players.
To me, that 1986 Celtics team is the greatest team ever assembled. But the team that impressed me the most was the ’87 team. I have more respect for that team than any team that I ever saw play. There was so much adversity. Parish playing with two twisted ankles in the playoffs. Larry with the elbow injury. Kevin McHale playing on a broken foot. Bill Walton battling the foot problems and unable to play. And these guys take this thing to Game 6 of the ’87 NBA Finals – a series that they had no business being in, quite frankly. They just kept getting up off the mat and battling. They lost that series to the Lakers, but they didn’t get beat.
Let’s talk about the legendary Red Auerbach.
When I first met Red, I’d just gotten cut from the Kansas City Kings. Red called and said he’d like to meet with me, so I went to Boston and met with him in his office. He tells me to sit down, and then he tells me that he doesn’t have a spot for me on this team. I’m thinking to myself that he could have told me that over the phone. Then he tells me that he thinks he’ll have a spot for me next year. He says he wants to send me to Israel to play,where he could hide me while I get another year’s worth of experience under my belt. I’m thinking to myself, ‘Israel?’ If he wanted to hide me, why didn’t he try to hide me somewhere in Harlem instead [laughs]? But I didn’t ask any questions. If Red Auerbach thought a year in Israel could get me into the NBA then I’d pack my bags and head overseas. And that’s exactly what I did.
Red always seemed a step ahead of the competition.
Red had a vision, and he always talked about getting people to buy into that vision. He preached having a clarity of vision. Larry Bird was another example of Red’s vision – he drafted Larry a year early and then waited for him to turn pro. And we all know how that turned out.
Tell me about Bill Russell.
The first time I met Bill Russell I’d just signed with the Celtics. He was doing broadcasting work for CBS-TV at the time, and we were getting ready to play Philly. He walks up to me and says, ‘M.L. Carr.’ And I say, ‘How are you doing, Mr. Russell?’ He says, ‘Fine. Guess What? I’m going to turn you into a household word today. You know what word that is?’ I said, ‘No, what?’ He says, ‘Garbage.’ And then he breaks out in a big grin and lets loose with that famous laugh of his. That was his good-natured way of welcoming me to the team. Russ has been very supportive to me over the years.
Tell me about John Havlicek.
My first encounter with John came when I was a member of the Detroit Pistons. It was my first game against the Celtics – and trust me, I was a Celtics fan growing up – and I had the task of guarding John Havlicek. He got the quickest and easiest 27 points that anybody had ever scored on me. He would run down the court and run me off of either Paul Silas or Dave Cowens, and then he’d be wide open for an easy jumper.
Well, later that season we play the Celtics in Boston, and I decided I wasn’t going to let John run me into Silas or Cowens, and that I wouldn’t let them pop me in the chest the way they did in the previous game. My strategy was to rough up John before he could get me into those screens. Well, the first time down the court I bump John pretty hard, and I learned that that’s the worst thing you could do in Boston. I thought the fans were going to come out of the stands after me. It was almost like I’d hit the pope [laughs].
Do you think that Havlicek’s accomplishments tend to get overshadowed by the players that came after him – especially Larry Bird and Paul Pierce?
Not only that, when you look at what guys like Havlicek accomplished you realize that it was a different era. It was tougher back then. The travel was tougher. They didn’t have the same nutrition that they have today. Sports medicine was in the Dark Ages back then. What John did was unbelievable when you think about it. Guys like John, Jerry West, Russ and Chamberlain. That’s why I don’t like to compare eras. When I retired we flew first class. Guys back then traveled by car and train. Teams today have their own private jets.
You came back to the Celtics in the ‘90s and took over as the team’s general manager.
It was a great opportunity that came about because I was chasing [team owner] Paul Gaston and constantly trying to buy the team from him – I’d put together an ownership group that would have had the resources to purchase the Celtics. He had no interest in selling at the time, so he asked me if I’d be interested in running the team. For me, I thought that would be the next best thing, and that it would give me the inside track if he ever did decide to sell.
What was that experience like for you?
It was a great experience, because it gave me a chance to give back to a Celtics family that had been so great to me over the years. It gave me the opportunity to guide the team through some very tough times. When I arrived, the talent level clearly wasn’t where it had been. The team was in transition. And realistically, it was going to be a few years before we got it back. So I eventually decided to run the basketball operations, and then to also coach it at the same time.
Did you ever have second thoughts to becoming the head coach?
[Boston Globe sportswriter] Will McDonough was up front and honest with me. I was talking to him about the coaching position, and I asked him what he thought. He said, ‘Are you kidding? Get the longest contract you can get, and get the most money you can get. That way, when I kick the crap out of you in the paper, and you’ll be laughing all the way to the bank.’
Your two-year stint as head coach didn’t end well.
Red tried to talk me out of it. He didn’t like the idea. He said that I had such a good name in the city, and that I had the respect of the fans, and that it was going to be a big risk. He said that my reputation could take a big hit. I listened to what he had to say, but I was convinced that I was the best person to take the team through what was certain to be a very rough period in franchise history. I was willing to take the hits in order to get the team into a place where we had some good draft picks, and then I knew it would be time to step aside.
Was coaching as hard as you’d envisioned?
Much more difficult. I never could have envisioned some of the things that were said and done by the fans during that time. I’ve never talked about it until now, but I’d walk into my office and my assistant, Becky, would be in tears. I’d ask her what was going on. She was reading letters from irate fans – there were death threats and all kinds of stuff coming in. And I just never thought it would go to that level. I’d discuss it privately with Red and keep it behind closed doors, and then I’d only let the public see my positive side, but it was tough.
Did the fan criticism ever cross the line?
There were people who were trying to dig up dirt on me. People who would go down to my mother’s house unannounced, and without my knowledge, and of course she’s going to let them in and make them feel at home. They were there to dig up dirt on me, all because I was running and coaching the Celtics and the team was going through some tough times. It was very hard on my family.
How different would things have been if Len Bias and Reggie Lewis had lived?
The team wouldn’t have gone through the slide, and I wouldn’t have been general manager and head coach. There would have been a nice transition from Bird, McHale and Parish, and I think the team would have remained very competitive during the ‘90s. Those were two great players.
Where were you when you heard that Bias had passed away?
I was walking to a meeting with my financial adviser, and someone on the street asked me if Len Bias was going to be okay. I said that he was going to be more than okay, that he was going to be unbelievable. Then I walk a little farther and someone else asks me the same thing, and I’m talking about how he’s going to be the next great Celtic, and that’s when this person tells me that Bias had had a heart attack and died. I refused to believe it. But then I walked into my financial adviser’s office and he’s telling me about news reports of Bias’ death.
How did Bias’s death effect Red?
Red was devastated. That was the first time that I could ever remember Red not having an answer for something. He really liked Len. It broke his heart. He also knew that the Celtics had lost someone who was going to be special. He said he knew this kid, and that there was no way Bias would do drugs.
Last question – If you could give someone a piece of advice what would that be?
Don’t be afraid to ask for help – and always be willing to give help. Too many times we are afraid to ask for help; asking for help is a sign of strength, not a sign of weakness. And remember, riches are to enrich the lives of others. We’ve all had people help us in this life. We should be sure to do the same whenever we can.
You must be logged in to post a comment.