Written By: Michael D. McClellan |  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 18th, 1985, the Boston Celtics fulfilled Vincent’s destiny by snatching up the savvy playmaker with the 20th 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.

I 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.


Final Question:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  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.


By: Michael D. McClellan |  He was on the court for less than two minutes in the third overtime of The Greatest Game Ever Played, and yet Glenn McDonald’s contributions loomed extraordinarily large on that day, as he and his Boston Celtic teammates pursued a league-record 13th NBA Championship.  Who knows what may have happened had the Celtics lost that Game 5, triple-overtime thriller, and then flown to Phoenix down three-games-to-two.  Perhaps the Celtics would have won that game anyway, and returned to Boston to close out the 1976 NBA Finals on the fabled Boston Garden parquet floor.  Perhaps another Celtic hero would have emerged, hitting clutch baskets with the game on the line in that blast-furnace of a gym, lifting the most decorated team in NBA history to another level of championship success.  Or, perhaps not.  No one knows how the emboldened Phoenix Suns would have played at home, with the luxury of a one game cushion, or how the Celtics would have responded after losing that triple-overtime epic – especially after leading in regulation by more than twenty points.  And no one knows what might have happened had the series came down to a deciding, winner-take-all Game 7 in the Garden, with a sold-out crowd roaring for the Celtics and millions more watching the drama unfold on TV.  Thanks to the timely, stellar play of McDonald, those scenarios remain the stuff of sports-crazed watering holes and Internet chat rooms.  All the seldom-used swingman did on that memorable day, in those 95 seconds, was put the Boston Celtics on his back and carry the team to a 128-126 penultimate Game 5 victory.

The only triple-overtime game in NBA Finals history has been well-chronicled through the years, celebrated to the point of mythology and marketed to a whole new generation of NBA fans.  Boston, with its rich tradition and star power – John Havlicek, Dave Cowens and Jo Jo White were household names at a time when the league was struggling to broaden its fan base – entered the series as the prohibitive favorites, while Phoenix arrived with brash determination and little else.  Games 1 and 2 belonged to the Celtics, with the young Suns unable to match Boston’s veteran intensity.  Phoenix answered in Game 3, riding the play of Paul Westphal and rookie center Alvin Adams to a 105-98 victory and keeping its comeback hopes alive.  An 109-107 Suns win in Game 4 evened the series, sending it back to Boston 2-2 for the pivotal Game 5.  That is where the most improbable championship game in NBA Finals history unfolded, a bizarre series of events that set the stage for McDonald’s beautifully unscripted heroics.

The Greatest Game Ever Played started as if it would be one of the biggest blowouts of all time, as the Celtics raced out to a 32-12 lead with just over nine minutes played in the first quarter.  Few could have expected the Suns to climb back – especially in the stifling din otherwise known as Boston Garden – but Phoenix, young and blissfully ignorant to the Celtic Mystique, continued to chip away at the lead.  With the halftime deficit at 15, Celtics head coach Tommy Heinsohn railed at the officiating – as he had for most of the first four games in the series – and then headed to the locker room to blunt the Sun comeback.  The adjustments, however, did little to change the momentum; Boston scored just 34 points in the entire second half, while Phoenix maintained its composure and fought back to tie the game, 95-95, at the end of regulation.

The teams traded baskets in the first overtime, scoring six apiece, and a second overtime session appeared inevitable.  With time draining away, Boston forward Paul Silas signaled to official Richie Powers for a timeout that the Celtics didn’t have.  The gaffe could have – some say should have – cost the Celtics the game.  Powers, however, failed to acknowledge Silas’ signal, and no technical was called on the play.  Time ran out, and the Phoenix coaching staff angrily stalked after Powers, to no avail.  The Celtics and Suns would play on.

Given new life, Boston forged a three-point lead with fifteen seconds remaining in the second overtime – a two-possession difference in 1976, this at a time when the three-point arc simply didn’t exist.  A Dick Van Arsdale basket cut Boston’s lead to a single point, and former Celtic Paul Westphal stole the ball with less than 10 seconds to play.  Curtis Perry suddenly found the ball in his hands with the game on the line, and he took the shot.  The 14-foot jumper was off the mark, but Perry alertly followed his shot and scored to put Phoenix up, 110-109.  With four seconds remaining, the Celtics did the only they that they could do – they raced the ball up the court, where John Havlicek’s fifteen footer banked cleanly into the basket as time expired.  Pandemonium ensued.  Fans poured onto the court to celebrate.  In the stands, hugs and handshakes and talk of raising another banner to the rafters above.  Jo Jo White, exhausted after playing nearly the entire game, sat on the bench and removed his shoes and socks amid the chaos.  His teammates sprinted to the locker room.  All of this while Powers worked frantically to inform the coaching staffs of both teams that the game wasn’t over, ruling that there was one second left on the clock when Havlicek’s shot dropped through the net.

Phoenix may have been given a one second reprieve, and a chance to win the game in the most dramatic fashion of all, but they still had to inbound the basketball from underneath their own basket.  Scoring in that situation?  The Suns didn’t have a chance.  Everyone in the building knew it.  But, as order was restored on the court, an idea was hatched; Westphal lobbied his head coach, John MacLeod, to let him call a timeout that didn’t exist.  The Suns had already spent its allotment and had none to take.  The referees would be forced to call a technical, which would give the Celtics a foul shot, and then the Suns would be allowed to inbound the basketball at midcourt – a far less daunting proposition with one second still on the clock.  MacLeod listened intently to Westphal’s epiphany, and then acquiesced.  It was a long shot, but it was also his team’s best option.

With order restored, White stepped to the line and calmly sank the technical.  The Celtics were now up by two, 112-110, and time was on their side.  One more second.  One more stop.  Phoenix had other ideas.  They inbounded the ball to Gar Heard, who launched a shot from beyond the top of the key.  With a flick of his wrist, the NBA’s first double-overtime Finals game since 1957 morphed into an epic battle that would transform everyone involved.

For Heinsohn, Heard’s shot was a bitter pill to swallow.  Three key players had already fouled out, and a fourth – rugged power forward Paul Silas – would pick up his sixth personal with less than two minutes remaining.  The rest of his rotation was exhausted.  Heinsohn looked down his bench, considered inserting veteran forward Steve Kuberski, and then mysteriously changed his mind.  An instant later, the opportunity of a lifetime belonged to the relatively inexperienced swingman from Long Beach State.

“I was definitely ready to go in,” McDonald says now, reflecting on the moment that would define his basketball career.  “As a role player, you are always preparing for an opportunity to step in and help the team.  You work hard in practice, doing the drills and competing in the scrimmages, and you want to be ready if your name is called.  I honestly thought Heinsohn was going to bring in Kuberski, but he waved me over instead.  You don’t think about anything at that point.  You just go in and do the very best you can.”

All McDonald did in those 95 seconds was score six points, grab a pair of key rebounds, and run the floor with reckless abandon – all while thriving under the pressure of a national television audience.  And although McDonald’s deeds didn’t win the series, it was his Game 5 heroics that had the basketball world talking long after the team’s 13th championship banner had been raised to the Boston Garden rafters.

“It took a while for my contributions to completely sink in,” McDonald says, smiling at the memory.  “It’s something I’ll never forget, and it’s something I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.”

Little did McDonald know then, but that brief, shining moment in the NBA Finals would also be his last in a Celtic uniform.  The team would cut him in training camp the following fall, and he would play just nine more games with the Milwaukee Bucks before retiring from the NBA.  A clipped career, perhaps, but one that produced a championship ring and a permanent place in Celtic lore.  And for those who think that McDonald was only about those 95 seconds of fame, it should be noted that McDonald played for two coaching legends while at Long Beach State (Jerry Tarkanian and Lute Olson), earning All-America honors and the distinction of being a first round pick in the 1974 NBA Draft.  Add to that a successful post-basketball career, a lasting marriage to his college sweetheart, and two grown children with thriving careers of their own, and it’s easy to see that there’s more to Glenn McDonald than his giant role in The Greatest Game Ever Played.

You were born on March 21st, 1952 in Kewanee, Illinois.  Please tell me a little about your childhood, what led you to relocate in California, and some of the things that spurred your interest in playing basketball.

I was born in Kewanee, but I pretty much moved right away.  My mother married my father for the second time – they got married, had an annulment, and then remarried in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.  I guess I was there until I was eleven, and then we moved back to Kewanee, Illinois.  I was there until I was thirteen years old, and during that time I started getting involved in athletics.  I ran track, and I played football, and I played a little basketball.  That may sound surprising, but I really didn’t play much basketball initially.  I was on the team.  I wasn’t called on a lot in games.  It wasn’t a real passion for me at that time – I just loved sports in general, and I played because it was the sport in season at the time.  There was a lot of pickup basketball going on in the neighborhood that I was l living in, so I’d always go to the courts outside and play with the older guys.  I just enjoyed playing, and enjoyed watching the older guys.  It really helped me to learn to play the game.

I was in the eighth grade in 1965, and my mother told me that we were going to move to California.  I didn’t want to go because I had gotten involved with a lot of friends, and as kid you don’t want to leave your school all of a sudden.  She explained that there was more opportunity for her in California, and at the time is was just her, me, and my three sisters.  She just felt that there was more opportunity as far as work went, if we moved west.  It was a quick decision; we had relatives in California, whom she went to visit, and all of a sudden she just decided she wanted to move out here.  I told her that I wanted to stay behind and live with my aunt, but she explained that I needed to help raise my sisters.  And then, not long after that, we’re sitting in the living room, watching TV, and there is all of this coverage of the Watts Riots.  I just looked at her and said, ‘This is where you want to take us – right into the middle of the Watts Riots?’ I didn’t want to go [laughs].  But that’s what happened.  We moved to California just as the riots were coming to an end – I think they lasted six days.  So, moving to California was a big cultural change for me.  My new school was predominantly black, whereas the school I went to in Illinois was predominantly white.  It was just a whole different world for me.


You played high school basketball for Jefferson High School in Los Angeles.  Please tell me about this period in your life.

I rebelled against the move.  I told my mother that I wasn’t going to play organized sports of any kind, because she just knew that I would get involved in athletics as soon as we settled into our new environment.  My attitude was, ‘You’re making me move and I don’t want to, so I’m not going to play sports for you.’   So I guess you could say that I went through a phase where I was trying to punish her.

We arrived in California in ’65, and I think I was going through the ninth grade at that time.  Jefferson High School was tenth-through-twelfth, so I was still a year away from all of that.  And I stuck to my threat – for awhile, at least.  I would play pickup games in the neighborhood, but I wouldn’t go out for any of the teams.  And then one day during my sophomore year in high school, which was my first year at Jefferson, I learned that there was going to be tryouts for the basketball team.  One of the kids on the varsity team was a high school All-American, and he baited me into playing.  He told me that I wasn’t good enough to make the B team at Jefferson, and I was like, ‘What do you mean, I can’t make the B team?  I’m better than most of the players on your varsity team.’  He just kept it up, and the next thing you know, there I was, trying to make the team [laughs].  I wanted to prove the point that I could make the team, and that’s how I really go involved with basketball.


Following graduation, you accepted a scholarship to play basketball for Long Beach State and a talented, young coach named Jerry Tarkanian.  What was it like to play for Jerry those first two seasons?

Awesome.  During those days you couldn’t play varsity ball right away – you had to play on the freshman team – but it was still special just being involved.  I practiced with the freshman team, but I practiced with the varsity as well.  Just the knowledge Jerry had as a coach was unbelievable.  Up to that point I’d never been involved with someone who knew so much about the game.  In high school we were just a run-and-gun team, not a whole lot of fundamentals, just playing basic defense and using our press.  When I got to Long Beach, Jerry showed me a lot more about the skills aspect of basketball.  He really worked with us on our fundamentals.

The defensive schemes were so much different.  As I said, in high school it was either man-to-man or the press.  Jerry believed in zones.  He had a 1-2-2 zone that was just unbelievable.  We had big, quick, athletic  people in our program, and with those types of players you would think we would play man-to-man, but we ran a tremendous zone at that time.  So I learned a lot from Jerry.  He was a great coach to play for, and he transformed me from a scorer into a defensive specialist.  That became my thing.  At Long Beach, I ended up being one of the top defensive players in the nation.  It was a great reputation to have.  As a defensive specialist you go out and challenge people, and you don’t like to be scored against.  That was my mindset.  I didn’t like people scoring on me.  And Jerry instilled that in me.  I learned that great defense was just as important as scoring baskets.  He was a good coach to be under.  He was also a very funny man.  People reflect on his career now and think that he was pretty lenient, and back then he could be that way at times, but he was still a disciplinarian.


Lute Olson replaced Tarkanian prior to your senior season, and Long Beach State didn’t miss a beat.  The team was 24-2, and ranked #2 in the nation at one time.  Please tell me a little about playing for Mr. Olson.

We always tease Lute about that situation.  We had a young man come into the program named Clifton Pondexter – his brother, Roscoe, was already playing at Long Beach – and he was just a monster.  He was 6’9”, very strong, could score around the basket, and could jump out of the gym.  We didn’t pick up very many more people.  Lute brought in a couple of his kids from Long Beach City College, but they didn’t play a lot.  So we tease Lute to this day, and tell him that even if our mothers had coached that team we would have been 24-2 [laughs].  We felt that we were that talented.  It was sad that we ended up going on probation over some things that had happened in previous years, but the fact was that we were a very good team.  It was just unfortunate that we weren’t able to prove it by going to the NCAA Tournament.

Lute was quite different than Tark.  He didn’t like to joke around a lot.  One of the big things may have been that it was his first year there, and he had to come in and set the tone right away.  He probably felt like he had to make the statement that said, ‘I am in charge.’  So, he really didn’t get along with a lot of the players.  I was basically the mediator on the team.  When things would happen on the team between Coach and the players, I would always step in and let them know the deal.  Guys would say, ‘I didn’t come here to play for Lute, I came to play for Tark.’  And I would say, ‘Well, Tark’s not here.  He had to leave.  So you have a new coach, and you need to give this man the respect that he deserves.’  And we overcame the transition.  We all clicked together as a team and had a tremendous year.

Lute was another great teacher of the fundamentals.  He was a very disciplined coach.  The thing that he did do was give people a little freer reign as far as scoring.  Tark had a set group of players that he wanted to do the scoring.  Lute’s approach was, ‘If you know you can score, and you’re in a range where you know you can score, then go ahead and look for your shot.  I’m not going to stop you from looking for your shot.  Just understand your limitations, and don’t try to exceed your limitations.’  For me, I went from averaging 3 points-per-game to averaging 16 points-per-game.

So, like I said, they were just two totally different types of people – but very much alike at the same time.  Lute didn’t joke around with the players like Tark did, but they were both disciplined in their own ways.  If someone was doing wrong, they would sit that person on the bench.  They didn’t play favorites.  If the best player on the team did something wrong, both coaches would let that player know it.  That’s what I respect the most about both of them.


From 1971-74, Long Beach State’s record was an incredible 75-9, and you were a huge part of that success.  You gained a reputation for your defensive prowess, as well as for your clutch shooting.  What memories stand out from this period after all of these years?

The biggest thing that stands out now is how dominating we were on our home court.  That’s one of the things that’s always been important to me – winning at home.  The other thing is just the fact that we were such a close-knit team.  We really and truly got along.  We did things together.  To this day we stay in touch with one another.  For me, the way I am as a person, that was one of the most enjoyable times in my life.  Being around my teammates like that – we really did look at each other as family.  Of course you are going to have a little resentment here-or-there, but it never held over.  We might get upset with each other over something at practice, and then we’d be right back together that evening, eating dinner together or going to a movie together.  So I just think that the camaraderie that we had as a team was very special.  I don’t think a lot of teams understand how important chemistry is, both on and off of the court.


In 1988, you were inducted into the Long Beach State athletic hall of fame.  What does this honor mean to you?

To me it shows that people really appreciated me as both a person and a basketball player.  The people that vote for you look at a lot of different things when they decide to present your with that award.  They look at whether you graduated from college, and how you performed as a player.  They look at your character – not only during your days as an athlete at Long Beach, but also during the years since leaving school.  So that award just shows me that people have a lot of respect for me.  I was very, very honored to have been inducted.  It’s one of the biggest events that they have at Long Beach, and to be inducted so soon was just a huge honor.  It showed me that people looked at me in a different light, and not just as a basketball player.


You were selected by the Boston Celtics with the 17th overall pick in the 1974 NBA Draft.  How has the draft changed over the years, and what was it like to be drafted by the world champion Boston Celtics?

There are so many more teams in the NBA today – that’s one difference.  And now they have the NBA Draft Lottery, and the Green Room where all of the top picks gather.  It’s a huge event now.  The cash rewards for being drafted in the first round are mind boggling when compared to what we were signing for back then.  During my days, a player had to negotiate a contract.  Now, you really don’t have to negotiate.  There are already set amounts in place for each draft position in the first round, so you already have an idea of what you’re going to make based upon where you end up in the first round of the draft.  So it’s just totally different in that aspect.  And like I said, today players sit in the Green Room and wait to see if they’re going to be a lottery pick.  I can imagine that the wait must be incredibly stressful.  During my time, you were basically waiting for a phone call.  That was my case.

I had a feeling that I was going to get drafted.  I didn’t know how high or how low, or anything like that, but I knew that there were teams interested in me.  I knew that the Milwaukee Bucks were definitely interested, and of course they had the ABA at that time as well.  My coach called me with the news, which was kind of funny because of who drafted me.  I was never a Celtic fan, and I wasn’t a Laker fan because I didn’t like the Lakers, either.  I was always pulling for the underdog.  So one of the things I said was, ‘I hope that I don’t get drafted by the Celtics, because they win all of the time and I want to be able to beat the Celtics.’  That was my thing.  And then, all of a sudden Coach calls me up that day.  I was in the middle of moving, and he says, ‘Glenn, I’ve got some news for you.’  And I said, ‘What’s up, Coach?’  And he says, ‘You were just drafted in the first round by the Boston Celtics’.  I said, ‘Oh, okay…good.  But let me call you back a little later because I’m moving right now.’  And he says, ‘Don’t you understand what I just told you?  You were drafted in the first round by one of the greatest NBA franchises ever.’  I said, ‘I know, but I’m moving my furniture right now.  Let me call you back’.  That’s just how I am.  I just don’t get real excited about a lot of things.  And even though I might be excited, a lot of times I just don’t show it outwardly.  So I called him back later, and Coach was still taken aback by my attitude.  I just said, ‘ Look, I’m sorry but I was moving!’ [Laughs.]

After the news hit me, I was like, ‘Man, the Celtics – now I’ve got to move from one coast to the other coast.  I’m thinking of all this kind of stuff.  And then I went out there and met Red, and had a chance to tour the Boston Garden – and as raggedy as that place was, it still made me have chill bumps.  I was so excited when I got there.  I saw the banners, and at that time I just felt so proud to be involved with that organization.  And to this day I’m still proud to have been a Boston Celtic.  They still keep in contact with me.  It’s just a different situation, it really is.  They preach family, and they truly are a family.  They try very hard to keep former players informed as to what’s going on, and I just really appreciate that so much.


In addition to yourself, three other Long Beach State players were taken in the draft; Cliff Pondexter, Leonard Gray, and Roscoe Pondexter.  What does this say about the strength of that Long Beach State team?

For me it says that we were very, very talented, and we played against very good schools to have that talent come out.  A lot of times when you play against weaker schools, your not seen and you don’t put out the effort that you should.  If you’re not careful, you end up playing down to that level of competition.  Tark and Lute made sure that we played the toughest schedule possible.  At that time we were in the PCAA, which is the Big West now, and the conference had good schools.  Even Cal State-LA had a very competitive team.  So did Pacific, and San Diego State.  Fresno State.  So the conference schedule was a challenge, and we tried to play a tough non-conference schedule as well.  I think USC and UCLA were the only non-conference teams that flat out refused to play us.  If we were going to play them, then it was going to be in the NCAA Tournament.


Please take me back to that first training camp with the Boston Celtics.

Very, very tough [laughs].  I remember my first day of training camp very well.  I actually drove from California to Boston, stopped in Illinois because I wanted to see some of my relatives, and got to Boston the day before training camp was to start.  That was a big mistake on my part.  I was only going to stay in Kewanee for a day, and then keep going, but I ended up staying there for three days [laughs].  So now I’m hustling to get there, and I get there the day before camp starts.  Our first practice was just run, run, run, run, run.  I remember Heinsohn asking the players if we were tired.  I’m thinking that he’s wanting to know who needs a sub, so I raise my hand.  And he says, ‘Well, that’s too bad, Mac, because you’re going to get even more tired.’  He didn’t sub me out – he kept me on the court and ran me to death.  It was unbelievable.  That’s when I really learned that watching NBA players run on TV and doing it yourself are two entirely different things.  I had always prided myself on being in shape, but that was whole different situation.  As much as we ran I just knew that I was going to pass out.  Luckily I didn’t, but it was the most demanding thing that I’d ever been through in my life.

The big thing about those Celtic training camps was that you could never stop moving.  Even if you didn’t have the ball, you were moving.  If you were playing defense and your man didn’t have the ball, then Heinsohn expected you to have your feet moving in case they made a pass to your man, or in case he made a cut to the basket.  He wanted you to be able to react right away.  So you couldn’t stand still.  If he was talking to you on the sidelines, and you weren’t in the game, you had to be running in place.  I’ll never forget that.  I had never seen anything like that in my whole life.  But then I realized why they did that.  They were in excellent shape.  Perpetual motion.  It was an eye-opening experience, for me.


What was it like to meet Red Auerbach for the first time?

When I first me Red, I didn’t have an idea of how he was going to be.  I didn’t watch a lot of pro games on TV.  Every now and then I’d watch one, but that just wasn’t me.  I’ve never been the kind to go, ‘Oh, so-and-so is playing so I’d better get home and watch the game.’  I’d never been that type.  If I’m home and a game’s on, then I might watch it.  If not, then I’m not going to make a plan just to get home so that I can see a basketball game.  I was never like that.  So I had heard about Red Auerbach, because he had won all of those championships.  I’d seen him on TV with that cigar, so I knew what he looked like.  But then to go in there and actually meet him – you know it’s an honor to be able to meet a man like that, but at the same time you’re saying to yourself, ‘My God, this man is arrogant.’  But then you look at him again and say to yourself, ‘He has the right to be arrogant – just look at what he’s done.  No one else has done anything close to what this man has done.’  He was a very brash individual, but you could tell that he cared about his players.  I had never been under him as a player, but you could just tell by watching film that he cared.  The way he reacted, the way he protected them.  It wasn’t only about Red Auerbach.  It was about his team – his family – and he was going to do what he had to do to protect them.  And when they won, he was going to celebrate.

So it was an honor to meet him.  And then, to sit down and talk contract with him, you learned very quickly that he was a businessman.  It was as simple as that.  There wasn’t any joking around about money.  He didn’t pretend like you were going to come in and take over the team.  John Havlicek was there.  Don Nelson.  He let you know that there were players on the team that deserved to be there, and had been there for awhile, and that you were going to have to come in and prove yourself.  So you looked at him and said to yourself, ‘If that’s the way it has to be done, that’s the way it has to be done.’  And I’d never be one to feel entitled to anything anyway.  I believed that playing time was something that I had to earn.


The Celtics went 60-22 in your first season with the team, but fell to the Washington Bullets in the Eastern Conference Finals.  Please take me back to that series.  What stands out after all of these years?

More than anything else it was the dominance of Wes Unseld.  We had good guards, and we had good post players, but Wes the difference maker.  I didn’t play much in that series, so it’s hard to recall a lot of the specifics, especially now that so many years have passed.  But Washington was the better team that year.  They beat us to come out of the East, and then they defeated Golden State in four straight to win the title.


Please tell me a little about Dave Cowens.

Dave….[laughs]….one of the most intense individuals I’ve ever met in my life.  To this day I have the utmost respect for him, because Dave has always been the most down-to-earth individual.  The thing that I’ve always liked about him is that he says what’s on his mind, and he’s not going to let you sit around wondering what he’s thinking.  He’s going to tell you what he thinks about different things.  Tremendous player.  For his size – he was only 6’9” – the things that he would do, and the way he would throw his body around in order to help his team win, you just can’t ask for more from a player.  He was very, very talented.  He was a lefty that would take it at you.  He was ferocious on the boards.  Never gave up.  And then you get him off the court and he’s a very low-key, down-to-earth person.  And just a joy to play with.  If I ever had to do it over again, he is somebody that I would definitely want to be on my team.  He epitomizes what hard work is all about.  He wasn’t the most talented person in the world, but my God, he got it done.  He had the biggest heart that you would ever see.


Following the 1974-75 season, the Celtics traded Paul Westphal to the Phoenix Suns for Charlie Scott.  What did Scott’s arrival mean to this team in terms of regaining the championship?

He was already a phenomenal scorer, but he was also a big, quick guard that wanted it.  He came in and hadn’t won a championship, and he really wanted that ring.  I think that his mindset was one of fitting in.  He was going to come in here and do whatever possible to help us win a championship.  Charlie could rebound, he could shoot, he could take his man off the dribble.  He was a long guard that could defend pretty much anybody in the backcourt.  He also had heart.  He’d been through so much during his college days – the atmosphere that he had to play in, and he was just one of those types of people who really wanted a championship bad.  He was going to sacrifice whatever he needed to sacrifice in order to do that.  With him having to come in and play with Jo Jo White, John Havlicek and Dave Cowens, everybody wondered if there would be enough basketballs to go around.  Charlie subjugated his game to fit in with these guys.  He knew that they were the primary weapons on offense, and that his job was to compliment them and defend.

I previous years, Paul Westphal wasn’t really looked upon as a scorer for our team.  He was young and just starting, and he had a lot of potential.  But there wasn’t a big need for him to produce points at that stage of his career.  Charlie had to come in and pretty much play the same role as Westphal.  He was suddenly the fourth option on offense, whereas he was the primary option in Phoenix.  When he came in he knew his role and he accepted it, and he really played it well.


You’re career with the Celtics is perhaps best known for your role in that triple-overtime classic in the 1976 NBA Finals.  Please take me back to that game in general, and to your contributions in particular.

That particular game was supposed to have been over at halftime.  We were killing them, up twenty-plus points, and it really illustrates that you can never let up on your opponent.  When a team starts gaining confidence, you don’t know what’s going to happen.  And that’s pretty much what happened with us.  We felt we had the game locked up.  We made some mistakes defensively, and then they started hitting some shots.  I played earlier than normal in the first quarter, and then I played early in the third quarter.  After that I was pretty much on the bench.  By then I could tell that the Suns weren’t afraid.  They believed that they could come back in this game, and they believed that they could win it.  It became a situation where we’d score one basket and they would score two or three, we’d make a mistake and they would capitalize, and the next thing you know, we’re in the middle of a game.  You could see the players on our team trying to step it up – we were on our heels and we needed to do something about it.  You could tell that they knew that it was time to get serious again.  But it was already too late by that time, because Phoenix already had the momentum.  Paul Westphal was playing unbelievable basketball, hitting just about everything he put up there.

And so we went into that first overtime, and then into the second overtime where we thought we had won the game.  And then we had to come back out, because Richie Powers had made the call to give the Suns another second on the clock.  I remember that he got jumped on by a crazed fan, and the place was an absolute madhouse.  It was hard to believe the things that were going on out there.

My role was to be a cheerleader more than anything else.  I really wasn’t focusing on the fact that I might be going back into the game.  With so many veterans having been in those situations before, I was sure that my few minutes in the third quarter were the last that I’d see in the game.  But then another one of our veterans fouled out, and at that point Tommy just felt that he wanted fresh legs.  And that’s when he looked down the bench and called my name.  He just looked at me and said, ‘Mac, get out there and run ‘em’.  And that’s basically what it was.  With me having fresh legs from sitting on the bench for awhile, I was able to get a couple of rebounds.  I was able to fill the lanes and get out on the break.  I was able to get a layup here-or-there.  And that’s basically what my role was in that third overtime.

When Paul Silas fouled out, I told Steve Kuberski that he’d better get ready to go in.  Steve took his warm-ups off, and all of a sudden Heinsohn says, ‘Mac, get in there!’  And I’m saying to myself, ‘Oh my God!’  But that was only for a split second.  I jumped up didn’t think about the magnitude of the situation.  I went in there to do my job, contribute, and make the most of a golden opportunity.  And that’s what I’ve always told my kids.  I stress how important it is to be focused and to be ready, because you never know when your number is going to be called.  You want to be able to produce whenever they call your number.  Fortunately for me, I was able to hit a couple of baskets and make a couple free throws.  And fortunately it went right.  It’s amazing, but it happened for me.  I thank God that he put me in that position, and I thank Him even more for my being ready to produce when called upon.


The Celtic championship teams of the 70s tend to get overlooked.  Do you think this is because those teams were sandwiched between the title teams of Bill Russell and Larry Bird?

Probably so.  Yeah.  Because, first of all, there were so many championships before those teams won titles in the 70s, and then there were all of those trips to the NBA Finals with Bird running the show.  In both cases there wasn’t a big gap between trips to the Finals – it just seemed like the Celtics were playing for a championship every year.  On one side of us you had Russell, a phenomenal player won 11 titles in 13 years, and on the other you had Bird, who won 3 in 7.  He probably should have been more, if things had gone a little differently against the Lakers.

Dave was named one of the 50 Greatest Players, but he still wasn’t the most dominant player around.  Russell and Bird were dominant.  Dave was a dominant player in his own sense, but it was mainly because of his blue collar work ethic.  He was often overmatched against most of the centers in the league – he was always looking up to them, height-wise – but he had that great heart and he usually won the battles under the boards.  He was a team player who worked extremely hard, like Russell and Bird, but he did it with less flash and bravado.  I think that’s why he may tend to get overlooked, and why those championship teams of the 70s tend to get overlooked.  I’m glad that he was recognized as one of the 50 Greatest Players, because he really deserved that honor.


After playing basketball your whole life, and dreaming of winning a championship, what was it like to finally win it all?

When we came back from Phoenix we were all so excited, but, for me, the appreciation factor didn’t really set in until I came back from playing overseas.  Because after I came back from the Philippines I started seeing clips of The Greatest Game Ever Played, and I realized that I played a significant part in that piece of history.  And then I realized that I’d accomplished something that a whole lot of other people strive for but never obtain.  Although I was in the NBA only two years, I was fortunate enough to win a championship ring in one of them.  So it wasn’t until later in my life that I was able to understand the importance of that whole situation.  If I want to wear my ring, then I get it out and wear it and know that I was a part of something special.  It’s a tremendous feeling.  I work as Director of  Intramurals at Long Beach, and kids will see clips of the game on ESPN Classic.  They’ll come up to me and say, ‘Mr. McDonald, I saw this game last night – it was between the Boston Celtics and the Phoenix Suns – and I didn’t know that you played for the Celtics!  You have a championship ring!’  And then you realize that a lot of people would give anything to experience that moment.  It makes me cherish that moment even more.


What do you remember most about the fabled Boston Garden?

The dead spots in the floor [laughs].  We would know where the dead spots were, and we would force dribblers to those spots.  We could get steal opportunities that way, because the ball wouldn’t come up as high as it normally did.  The Celtic veterans would know not to go to those areas – they’d played in the Garden for so many years, and they knew that floor like it was a second home.

The other thing was looking up at all of those championship banners and retired jerseys.  You can’t beat that.  And then you realize that you’re a part of that same program, so you understand that it’s a true honor to be a Boston Celtic.


Your time in Boston was brief, but we have a saying:  “Once a Celtic, always a Celtic.”  What was it like for you to play for this proud franchise?

I was blessed to be able to play for a franchise like the Celtics.  You have the Lakers, and the 76ers, and those are proud franchises, but I was blessed to be a Celtic because of the way that they treat you as a person.  I was a role player who was with the team for two years only, and to this day I get literature or phone calls if there is something going on.  They always make a point to ask if I’d like to come back and be involved.  Those things, to me, are really important.  That tells me that the Celtics truly believe that you are a part of the family.


Final Question:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  If you could offer one piece of advice on life to others, what would that be?

Whatever dream you have, go for it.  Be sincere with yourself.  Treat people the way you want people to treat you.  You can accomplish whatever you set out to do in life if you’re sincere about it, and you put forth the effort.


By: Michael D. McClellan |  When Mel Counts joined the Boston Celtics as a rookie in the fall of 1964, he did so with the knowledge that he would probably never earn a starting position, and that his name might forever be a footnote to one of the greatest dynasties in the history of team sport. Standing in line behind Bill Russell can do that to you. Counts, drafted ninth overall in the first round of the 1964 NBA Draft, just ahead of future stars Willis Reed and Paul Silas, found his two-year stay in Boston to be both a blessing and a curse. One the one hand, he was a member of a Celtic team that won eleven championships in thirteen seasons, a feat unmatched and still regarded as the gold standard for the four major North American sports. On the other, Counts simply never got to play.  To many NBA fans, Counts remained a mystery, a lithe seven-footer who could seldom flaunt the talent that made him a two-time All-America selection at Oregon State University. The legendary Red Auerbach ultimately used this to his advantage, shrouding Counts in so much secrecy that he could pry rugged forward Bailey Howell away from Baltimore in an even-up trade. Bailey, of course, was an integral component on two Celtic championship teams, while Counts would go on to a fine, 12-year career with six different NBA franchises, including two stints with the Los Angeles Lakers. That he would end up becoming on the league’s first true journeymen is of little consequence. Counts, for all of his stops and travels, entered the NBA as Boston’s green giant, and to this day he remains proud of his time spent in a Celtic uniform.

“I’ve been blessed,” Counts says, when asked about his bit-part in the Celtics’ dynasty. “How many people can say that they’ve played with guys like Bill Russell, John Havlicek, Sam Jones, Tommy Heinsohn, KC Jones and Satch Sanders? How many can say that they’ve played on one of the greatest teams of all time?”

Born on October 16th, 1941, in Coos Bay, Oregon, Counts found himself drawn to the outdoors well before he developed a love for basketball. Situated in Oregon’s Bay Area, and with the largest natural harbor between Seattle and San Francisco, Coos Bay offers hunting and fishing in equal abundance, and a young rarely missed an opportunity to indulge in his favorite pastimes. He also enjoyed hiking with his father, whom he idolized, and who taught him how to appreciate nature. In fact, Oregon’s picturesque outdoors was so all-consuming that Counts didn’t pick up a basketball until fourth grade – but when he finally did, he took to the sport quickly and dramatically, displaying a natural athleticism that clearly set him apart from other children his age.

The next several years would provide a solid foundation for Counts, as his coaches drilled into him the importance of basketball fundamentals. They eschewed the fancy stuff, opting instead for clean, crisp passes, solid defense, and high-percentage shots. Counts listened and learned, developing into the most accomplished cager in the history of Marshfield High School. By then his height rivaled his prodigious basketball talent, making him so dominant in the low-post that college recruiters with no working knowledge of Oregon’s geography suddenly knew of Coos Bay and the area’s thriving lumber industry. Naturally, offers poured in. With no shortage of universities at his beck and call, Counts elected to play collegiate hoops for Oregon State and its legendary, hall-of-fame coach, Slats Gill. Gill, who had taken the 1949 Oregon State team to the Final Four, would do so again in 1963 with Counts as the centerpiece of the Beaver attack. And Counts, then a junior, would earn All-America honors for his efforts, a feat that he would repeat following his senior season.

There was little doubt that Counts would play professionally, but his date with the Boston Celtics would have to wait, as Oregon’s favorite son was selected to represent the United States in the 1964 Olympic Games in Tokyo, Japan. Playing for another legendary coach, Hank Iba, Counts and his teammates shrugged off the underdog tag to finish 9-0, including a dominating 73-59 gold medal win over the previously undefeated Soviet Union.

“I don’t remember a lot about the ebb and flow of the gold medal game,” Counts wrote years later.  “I remember that the Soviets had a guy on their team named Jan Kruminsh. He was 7’6″ and weighed 320 pounds. They actually recruited him from the Siberian forest. I don’t think he had to saw the trees down, he could just tear them out by the roots and load them on the trucks by hand. He was huge. And he wasn’t even their starting center. The guy who was their starting center was “only” 6’11.

“At that time, we were just starting to send American coaches and players to foreign countries. These other counties hadn’t caught on to how we played the game here in America. The Soviets, like a lot of teams from other countries, were a lot more mechanical, less creative and freelancing, than we as Americans were. That really hurt their game. We were clearly better than them at the point.

“We ended up winning the game, and the most vivid memory I have is stepping up on the podium with a gold medal draped around my neck.  What a great feeling.  I was kind of awestruck, like, ‘Hey, this is what it looks like. This is for real. I’m here!’  The rest of the team felt the same way, like, ‘We came here to get the job done, we did it, and it was exciting.’”

Drafted ninth overall by the Boston Celtics, Counts continued his tutelage under another coaching luminary, Arnold “Red” Auerbach.  It was at that first training camp that Counts would experience Auerbach’s military-style approach to conditioning, an approach that, along with superior talent, would help propel the Celtics to 11 championships in thirteen seasons.  Counts, for his part, would average 4.8 ppg and 4.9 rpg in mostly mop-up duty, with his primary contributions coming against Russell during the team’s rugged practices.  The Celtics won sixty-two games that season, then a club record, culminating with a 4-1 NBA Finals win over the Los Angeles Lakers – and Boston’s seventh consecutive NBA championship.

While the rookie may not have seen the court much during the regular season, and even less of it during the playoffs, Counts nonetheless was blessed to be present for perhaps the single biggest moment in franchise history.  Immortalized by radio announcer Johnny Most’s signature ‘Havlicek stole the ball!’ call during Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Finals, John Havlicek’s famous theft only seems to grow bigger through the years – and Counts had the good fortune to be courtside for history in the making.

Counts would win another title a year later, his second with the team, as the Celtics would conclude their  record string of eight consecutive championships.  Statistically, the player known as ‘Goose’ would improve in almost every important category – games played (67, versus 57 the year before), minutes played (1021 versus 572), points-per-game (8.4 versus 4.8), rebounds-per-game (6.4 versus 4.9), and field goal percentage (.403 versus .368).  His playing days as a Celtic, however, were all but done; Auerbach’s retirement as coach meant a full-time gig as the team’s general manager, and one of his first offseason moves was to appoint Russell as his successor.  The first African-American head coach in any of the three major sports, Russell had no intentions of slowing down.  As player/coach, he was determined to log the same heavy workload that he had in the past.  For Counts, that would mean another season’s worth of garbage-time minutes, something that he was ready to accept in order to win another championship.  Auerbach had other ideas; convinced that the team needed more depth at power forward, as well as more size underneath the boards, he traded Counts to Baltimore in exchange for All-Star Bailey Howell.  He then acquired Wayne Embry to fill Counts’ spot as a backup to Russell.  The Celtics would win two of the next three championships, sending Russell off a winner.

Counts’ stay in Baltimore was abbreviated; he played 25 games during the 1966-67 NBA season before being shipped to the Lakers in a trade.  Counts fit in perfectly with the likes of Elgin Baylor, Wilt Chamberlain, and Jerry West.  With Baylor and Chamberlain down in the paint, Counts was free to play away from the basket and use his great outside touch.  He averaged a career-best 12.6 ppg in 1969-70.  The Lakers went to three NBA Finals in those four seasons.  Ironically, he found himself squarely on the other side of the heated Celtic-Laker rivalry, learning firsthand what it was like to lose to the great Bill Russell.

Counts went to the Phoenix Suns in 1970, and had one solid season (11 ppg, 6.3 rpg).  Then he had one bad season, and soon he found himself bouncing around the league.  Counts went to the Philadelphia 76ers, returned to L.A., and then finished his career with the New Orleans Jazz before retiring after the 1975-76 season. In all, he played in 789 regular season and 85 playoff games.  Still, he thinks of himself as Boston’s green giant, the player who arrived at a place and time that was truly special, where legendary men performed in an historic venue, where the fiery coach chomped victory cigars in the waning moments of games big and small, and where anything less than a championship was considered a season wasted.

Since retirement, Counts has received numerous accolades and awards, including enshrinement into the PAC-10 Hall of Honor, the US Olympic Hall of Fame, the OSU Hall of Fame, and the State of Oregon Sports Hall of Fame.  Celtic Nation is honored to bring you this interview.

You were born on October 16th, 1941, in Coos Bay, Oregon.  Please share some of the memories from your childhood, and also some of the events in your life that led you to the basketball court.

Growing up in a small town of about 300-to-400 people was a real advantage and positive for me.  I had the opportunity to hunt and fish, and go to a small school.  I think one of the best coaches I ever had was my fourth, fifth and six grade coach.  Just him being a mentor and a teacher of the basic fundamentals, not to mention his general enthusiasm and his involvement with kids, really set the stage for the rest of my life.

There are so many childhood memories that stand out.  We lived about three miles from Coos Bay.  In grade school, we used to hitchhike to town to go to the movies.  Back then the movie houses were a little different – you had all of the previews, you had the news, you had two serials, you had two cartoons, and you had a double-feature, all of this for the price of one ticket.  The average movie house cost sixteen cents for a ticket, and the uptown movie house cost a quarter.  Either way, it was dark outside by the time you got out.  I remember one time when my friend and I were hitchhiking back to the little town that I lived in, and we’re about a mile or so away when this car stopped for us, and we got in.  We drove along for a couple of blocks before the two guys in the front seat stopped the car and asked what we were doing in the car.  Well, what happened was that they’d stopped at a stop sign and we’d just walked over and gotten in [laughs].  They ended up giving us a ride all the way home anyway [laughs].

I have fond memories of growing up around Coos Bay.  I have a lifetime friend that I still hunt and fish with, this after about fifty-five years of knowing each other.  I remember the area being boom or bust, because the two primary sources of revenue were the fishing and lumber industries.  People would be down and out when the longshoremen were on strike, and other times thing would be going lickety-split.  There were a lot of economic cycles, no doubt about it.  At one time the area was the number one exporter of lumber in the world.  Of course it’s no longer that way now.

I remember, too, that you didn’t have to worry about your topside getting wet during a rain – it was always your bottom, because when the rain came at you, it came at you sideways from the wind blowing it.  So that umbrella didn’t do you a lot of good [laughs].


You are the most accomplished basketball player in the history of Marshfield High School.  Please tell me a little about this period in your life.

I think my work ethic was the reason I was so successful – it was instilled in me at a very early age by my mom.  She always talked about things like that.  And the great coaches that I had in junior high and high school also made a big difference.  Their influence helped shaped me into a better basketball player, and also a better person.  There really is no substitute for work ethic and for trying to do what’s right.


You graduated from high school in 1960, and then signed to play collegiate basketball at Oregon State University.  As a junior, you led the Beavers to the Final Four.  Please tell me about this experience.

I got to play for Slats Gill.  To me, he was one of the greatest college coaches of all time  He was assisted by Paul Valenti, another great coach.  I think nine of the thirteen players on that Final Four team were from Oregon.  One of them was Terry Baker, who had won the Heisman Trophy and was also Sports Illustrated’s Sportsman of the Year.  Steve Pauly was a decathlon champion.  We had people who played dual sports – two or three of the guys were also baseball players – which I don’t think that they do quite so much anymore.

The experiences that I gained from playing for Slats was worth so much more than just basketball.  He was very similar to my earlier coaches, in that he helped mold me into a better person and prepare for things that would come later in life.  In fact, some of the best times of my life were spent in college, at Oregon State, having that college experience – not only as an athlete, but as a student.  It was a great place to grow, and to meet other people – and not only from other parts of the country, but from other parts of the world.  It was a wonderful experience.

As for reaching the Final Four, that was only the second time in school history that Oregon State had done that.  Slats guided the 1949 team to the Final Four as well, so that tells you a little about his coaching ability.  We didn’t have as good a record as some of the teams in past years, but we had a real cohesive group.  And when they talk about peaking at the right time, towards the end of the year, that’s what we did.  We were ready for the tournament.  We won some games when we had to and reached the Final Four where Cincinnati beat us.  We played Duke in the consolation game and we lost that game as well – back then you played two games if you reached the Final Four, which they don’t do now – but it was just a wonderful experience.  Just to represent Oregon, OSU and the community was quite a privilege, and quite an honor.  Of course, the idea is to go all the way and win it, but it just didn’t happen.  The other teams were better than we were.  They deserve all of the credit for a job well done.


You were a two-time All-America selection.  How did it feel to be recognized as one of the greatest players in the country?

Well again, it was an honor to be recognized in that way, and I attribute a lot of that to a number of factors; the upbringing that I had, the coaching, the work ethic, and so on.  I looked at it as a collective thing, a team thing, with a lot of people helping along the way.  Yeah, you’d have to do a lot of it on your own, but I think a lot of times, as individuals playing a team sport, there end up being a lot of other people involved in your success.  For me, part of it was the coaches that I had – from grade school, into junior high and high school, and then on into college – they all had an impact, and they all played an important part in helping to make me successful.


The 1964 Olympic Games were held in Tokyo.  As hard as it may be to fathom, the U.S. men’s basketball team was considered something of an underdog going in.  What was it like to represent your country, and what memories stand out in your mind after all of these years?

The writers wrote us off.  They said that we weren’t going to get the job done.  Unlike the 1960 team, we didn’t have guys like Jerry West, or Oscar Robertson, or Jerry Lucas, or Walt Bellamy, or Terry Dischinger, or Bob Boozer.  These guys went on to play pro ball, with three or four of them becoming superstars in the NBA.  We didn’t have anybody on our team like that.  But we did have a great coach in Hank Iba, and a great group of assistant coaches.

We went to Pearl Harbor and worked out for three weeks.  We worked out twice a day, for three hours a pop, and when it came game time we were ready.  I remember one time, we had a game in the morning, and then we had practice that afternoon to get ready for the next day.  We were extremely well-prepared and extremely well-conditioned.  I don’t know if you’ve ever been over to Hawaii in the middle of the summer, or know the humidity factor, but it really helps to prepare you for the challenges and pressures of representing your country in Olympic competition – not only physically, but mentally and emotionally.

We went in with confidence, tradition, and the idea that the sports writers had written us off – there’s no doubt that that got in our crawl.  We wanted to show them.  That was an extremely powerful source of motivation for our team.  Our goal was to represent our country to the best of our ability, and that’s exactly what we did.  We won the gold medal and proved everybody wrong.


The Boston Celtics selected you in the first round of the 1964 NBA Draft, the ninth player chosen overall.  Please take me back to that first training camp with the Celtics.

It was like hell [laughs].  It was like boot camp.  The first three days we didn’t shoot the basketball.  In fact, back then they didn’t know as much about nutrition as they know now, and about how the body recovers from exercise.  And truthfully, the way we did things back then really wasn’t the best way to do it.  They’ve learned a lot since then.  Back then we’d go full-bore from ten until twelve, and then from two until four, with hardly a drink of water.  There wouldn’t be any breaks.  Now they practice in the morning and in the evening, which makes more sense.  It gives the body more time to recover.

The first three days, all we’d do was run and do drills.  We didn’t do any shooting.  It was total exercise.  But the fact that they ran so much in training camp certainly gave the Celtics an edge, and I think that’s why they always got off to a fast start.  Having Bill Russell, the greatest defensive player in the history of the game, didn’t hurt, either [laughs].  It all played into Red’s up-tempo offense, which was predicated on the fast break.  But those training camps were quite an experience.  They were tough.


Red Auerbach was notorious for those preseason barnstorming tours that took the team all over New England.  Were you ever a part of these tours and, if so, do you have a fond memory or an amusing story to share?

I broke my wrist my during training camp during my first season, so I missed those, and then the next season was when the player’s union really gained momentum and the number of preseason games were pared way down.  But they used to play anywhere from sixteen to twenty games during the preseason, where now they’re down to maybe six or eight.  So I really don’t have any recollection of what those barnstorming tours were like.

But I do recall other stories about Red.  He was a tremendous tactician, a tremendous psychiatrist, and a tremendous psychologist.  He deserves a lot of credit for treating each player different, which had a lot to do with the team’s exceptional chemistry.  He pioneered the idea of the sixth man, bringing a Frank Ramsey or a John Havlicek off the bench to help ignite the offense.  Red always had the ability to go to other teams and get players who were on the way out and get another year or two out of them – a prime example of that is when he traded me to the Baltimore Bullets for Bailey Howell, who had been an All-Star forward for much of his career.  That was the piece that the Celtics were missing at the time, because I was still young and green, and I still had a lot to learn about the game.  Bailey Howell came in and really helped them – I think he was on two of those championship teams with Russell.  Red was a smart coach and a shrewd judge of talent.


Everyone today knows that NBA players are pulling down multi-million dollar salaries.  What was the pay scale like when you played?

Obviously we weren’t making a lot of money.  I made $12,000 my first season with the team, plus $3,400 for winning the NBA championship.  The next year it was another $12,000, plus $3,600.  It helped, in a way, to keep you humble.  You didn’t forget where you came from.  Looking back, it’s easy to see that players from my generation played primarily for the love of the game, because a lot of them were making more money in the offseason than they were playing basketball.  Some of them were in real estate, or insurance, those types of things.  Of course, back then it didn’t cost as much to live.  Today, NBA wages far outpace inflation.  I’m not knocking these players getting that kind of money, but I don’t care for the ones with the bad attitudes and bad behavior.  When I played, you didn’t have problems with drugs, or players getting into fights with weapons, or players going to jail for any of those types of things.


Walter Brown passed away on September 7th, 1964.  Please tell me a little about Mr. Brown.

I never did meet Walter Brown.  It’s interesting, because I was invited out to meet him in a social setting, and I didn’t take advantage of that.  So when I arrived for training camp, he had already passed away.  From what I’ve heard, Walter Brown was a great human being who loved basketball, and loved the Boston Celtics.  He would do anything for you – if players were short on money, he would loan it to them without a second thought.  I think he was the kind of man who would give you the shirt off his back.


The ’65 playoffs produced one of the most dramatic moments in NBA history, as Johnny Most makes his legendary radio call: “Havlicek stole the ball! Havlicek stole the ball!”  Please take me back to that series in general, and that game in particular.

The guide wire supporting the backboard almost cost us that game against the Sixers.  I remember a conversation between Red Auerbach and Bill Russell prior to that series, and the decision was made to leave the guide wire in place.  Well, it was a really close game and Russell had to inbound the basketball.  Sure enough, he hit that wire and gave the ball back to Philadelphia under their basket.  I thought, ‘Oh no, this is it’, and then Havlicek came out of nowhere to steal the basketball.  He was a smart, smart player.  He grabbed the ball, made the pass, and the rest is history.


The Celtics dismantled the Lakers 4-1 to secure the team’s seventh consecutive title – and eighth overall.  While old hat to players like Bill Russell and Sam Jones, it was a new experience for you.  What was it like win your first NBA championship?

I’d never been on a championship team before.  In high school I was on two second place teams, and in college we made it to the Final Four once, so to be on a championship team like that is very special.  I think at the time it numbs you and you don’t really take it all in, but as time goes on it becomes more meaningful.  Now I can look at my Celtic ring or my Celtic watch, and say ‘Hey, I was on a world championship team’.  I’ve been very blessed and very fortunate to have the opportunity  to play on those teams.


Please tell me about the heart-and-soul of the Celtic Dynasty:  Bill Russell and Sam Jones.

Bill Russell is the greatest team player to ever play the game, and one of the greatest individual players to ever play it as well.  I think he really brought to the forefront the importance of defense in winning.  The guy would not only block shots, but he would try to block them to a teammate, or to himself, which helped initiate that great Celtic fast break.  There have been other great shot blockers, but not with his ability.  Russell was extremely intelligent, one of the smartest players that I’ve ever played with or against.  He was also one of the fastest.  Even back then he was somewhat undersized for a center, but he was probably one of the most mentally tough and mentally prepared players to ever play the game.  He was 6’9” and weighted about 210, and when you go up against guys like Wilt Chamberlain, who was 7’1”, 285, there was quite a bit of difference there.  But Russell always rose to the occasion.  I remember one time, when he was under the basket and we were playing the Lakers, and Archie Clark was at midcourt with the basketball.  And as Archie reached the basket, he decided to go under for a reverse.  It didn’t matter, because Russell had chased him down and was able to block the shot.  I thought, ‘This is unbelievable – Russell’s a half a court away, and he’s still able to catch this guy.’  What made it so special was that Archie knew Russell was coming.  That’s why he went under the basket, to keep Russell from blocking the shot.  Like I said, it didn’t matter.  Even after all of these years, it’s still one of the greatest plays I’ve ever seen.

Don’t get me wrong; Michael Jordan was a great player, one of the greatest ever.  But even today, if I had to choose one player to start a team, it would be Bill Russell.  He epitomized the term ‘team player’.  And just look at the results – thirteen seasons, eleven championships.  There aren’t many other players in any sport that can compare to that.  And the schedule was so grueling – back then there were only nine teams when I started, so the rosters were filled with quality from top-to-bottom.  Today there are more than thirty teams, so the league has been watered down in some respects.  I’m not disparaging the guys playing today, because there are some really great players out there.  But when you have fewer teams, that means more quality players have to step up.  And Russell was able to consistently outshine the best of the best.  He faced great players almost every time he stepped out on the court, and he was always at his best with a championship on the line.

Sam Jones was a tremendous clutch shooter, and one of the greatest bank shooters in the game.  He had deceptive speed – just when you thought he was running his fastest, he would kick it into another gear and just take off.  It was almost like he had another gear, or afterburners [laughs].  His speed and shooting ability were huge components of Red’s fast break attack.  Russell would block the shot, get the ball to the point, and Sam would be sprinting downcourt on the wing, ready to take the shot.


Red Auerbach would bow out the following season with yet another championship, the team’s eighth in a row.  The starting five had an average age of 31 that season, and many experts felt the team was too old to win again.  How were the Celtics able to overcome the age factor and send Red off a winner?

Two words:  Bill Russell [laughs].  You know, I was a member of the Lakers when Los Angeles played Boston during the 1969 NBA Finals.  That was Russell’s last season in the league.  It came down to Game 7 in Los Angeles, and one of the shots that killed us in that game was Don Nelson’s shot that hit the rim, went about ten feet straight up in the air, and then dropped into the basket.  That was a backbreaker, because the Celtics raced out to a huge lead – I think it was eighteen points – before we were able to cut it down to one.  You know, there’s no substitute for tradition, for believing in yourself, for reaching down for that little bit extra – it doesn’t matter what the sport is…basketball, golf, whatever the case may be.  And the Celtics had that.  They had tradition.  They were used to being successful.  They believed in themselves, even when they were down, and that’s how they were able to overcome adversity and win year-after-year.  And it all revolved around Russell.  The Celtics were an average team before he arrived, and they immediately won a championship with him on the team.  He gave the team tremendous confidence.  A swagger.  It carried the team to a bunch of championships.

If my memory is correct, the Celtics finished the 1968-69 regular season in fourth place.  They won a few more games than they lost, but not many – just enough to get into the playoffs.  They were considered old, and everyone was saying that the dynasty was over.  They were used to winning their division, even though they always had those great battles with Philadelphia when Wilt was there.  So the writers were all predicting a quick playoff exit, but Russell played like a great warrior in the playoffs.  He willed them to win in many cases.  That seventh game against us is a prime example.  I think Russell played all forty-eight minutes in that game.  The Celtics, of course, came out on top.


In 1966, you were traded to the Baltimore Bullets in exchange for the versatile Bailey Howell, and from there you were traded to the Los Angeles Lakers.  What was it like to be on the other side of the Celtics-Lakers rivalry?

I thought it was great.  It was a challenge being on the other side, because I had the opportunity to be in a championship situation with the Celtics.  I knew what they were all about.  I thought it would really be special to be duplicate that with the Lakers.  I played the Celtics the only way I knew how – I took pride in what I did, I played hard, and I believed in myself.  I also trusted my teammates and my coaches, knowing that together we could do whatever necessary to be successful and to be a champion.  So I looked at it as just another challenge.


Please tell me about Jerry West.

He was unbelievable.  I remember I was in the game when we were playing New York, and he hit that famous, 65-foot shot to tie the game.  That would have won it now, with the three-pointer.  He was not only one of the greatest clutch shooters, but he was also a great defensive ballplayer.  Quick hands.  I saw Jerry steal the ball from Pistol Pete [Maravich] – picked him clean.  And Pete was one of the best ball handlers in the game.

Jerry was also a smart, smart player.  I’d put him in the category with Bill Russell as far as intelligence goes, and as far as seeing the whole floor, and seeing what he needed to do.  When he played with Wilt and Elgin Baylor, he would do a phenomenal job of distributing the basketball.  As the game got tighter, then he’d start taking his shots.  He believed in himself so much that he never shied away from the big shot.  And on top of everything else, Jerry was just a class guy.


You played alongside two of the greatest players in NBA history – Bill Russell and Wilt Chamberlain.  What was this like for you?

You’re talking about two of the greatest players to ever suit up in the NBA, so it was an honor to play alongside of them.  They also afforded me the opportunity to play some at the forward position.  It was quite a learning process.  You’re talking about two of the best ever.  As I’ve said, Bill Russell that in 13 seasons won 11 championships. He was the greatest team player the game has ever seen.  And Wilt, well he was arguably the most dominant offensive force of all-time.


Of your time spent with the team, do you have a fond memory or an amusing story that stands out most?

I have a story that stands out, but it’s actually sad rather than amusing.  I remember one time, in the dressing room – and this was when John Thompson was my roommate – and John came into the locker room, and his uniform wasn’t hanging up.  That’s how he found out that he was no longer on the team.  I thought that that was a poor way to communicate with him.  John was such a good person, that I thought the Celtics could have done a better job of handling his release.

I remember another story as well – we would always meet at the end of the season to divide up the playoff money, and I remember John being there.  Woody Sauldsberry, too.  And the team voted to give John and Woody a half of a share, as opposed to a full share, because they really hadn’t played a lot that season.  I think John played 10 games, and Woody had played in about half of the games.  Well, John stood up in the meeting and objected.  He felt that if you were a member of the team, then you were deserving of a full share or none at all.  It was a very impassioned speech on his part, and the team responded to that by giving each of them a full share.  I was really happy with the way it worked out for John and Woody – as I indicated, back then there just wasn’t a lot of money to go around.

One thing you learned very quickly about that team was that they did a lot of things together – gatherings, dinners, that sort of thing.  I don’t think they do that so much anymore.  It used to be that the team would socialize a lot together.  As I went on to other teams, the people that I associated more with were my neighbors.  But in Boston it was much more of a family atmosphere.  But when it came to game time it was serious.


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

I have been a realtor for twenty-eight years, listing and selling properties, investing in properties, that sort of thing.  I’ve been very involved in the pro-life movement, and I belong to the traditional Catholic Church.  I’m very involved in my community – I’ve been on the school board for eight years, and I’ve been on a hospital board for three.  In the past I’ve given talks to churches, schools and clubs, which is part of giving back for all that I’ve received through the years.  I still fish and hunt quite a bit as well, and I do some biking.  There’s an organization in Oregon called ‘Cycle Oregon’, and there are 2,000 cyclists that take part in this.  I’ve been on four or five rides so far, one of which starts close to the Idaho border and goes all the way to the beach – it’s about a 500 mile ride.  I have five children and thirteen grandchildren, and another on the way, so were pretty involved with the kids and their activities, and the grandkids.  I’ve just been enjoying life and thanking God for all of his blessings.


Final Question:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  If you could offer one piece of advice on life to others, what would that be?

Have trust and faith in God and his teachings.  Always try to do the right thing and reach out and help others, because there is always someone else out there a little worse off.  Put yourself out there to others instead of always thinking about yourself.


Written By:  Michael D. McClellan | There are those who say that Indiana is the cradle of basketball civilization, the epicenter of a hardwood explosion that reaches all corners of the globe.  From Sydney to Slovenia, the NBA as we now know it reflects the far-reaching impact of the game’s legendary ambassadors, basketball gods known to the masses only as Michael, Magic and Larry, as nearly every team now has at least one foreign player on its roster.  Many of those players, in fact, are stars:  There is Yao Ming from China, Dirk Nowitzki from Germany, Manu Ginobili from Argentina, Tony Parker from France, and Pau Gasol from Spain.  Impact players all, these men excel in a sport that gained its critical mass in high school gymnasiums throughout 1950s rural Indiana.  Talk basketball lore with anyone form the Hoosier State, and it isn’t long before the story of Bobby Plump and tiny Milan High School enters the conversation.  Plump, of course, hit that last-second shot to lead Milan to the 1954 Indiana state title, becoming an almost mythical figure in the process and later providing the inspiration for the movie Hoosiers.  Simply put, Indiana basketball – Indiana high school basketball to be precise– is beyond passion, beyond obsession, beyond reason.  It is a religion that spans generations, the game and its players worshipped unlike anywhere else in the country.  And in the pantheon of all those Indiana high school greats, from Bobby Plump to Oscar Robertson to Larry Bird, few have stood taller than Muncie Central’s own Ron Bonham.

As a two-time All-State selection and as Indiana’s ‘Mr. Basketball’ in 1960, one might expect Bonham to have grown up with a basketball in his hands, his future as the Hoosier State’s hoops messiah cosmically preordained.  In fact, nothing could be further from the truth; Bonham, born with a heart murmur, didn’t play organized basketball until the eighth grade.  He was raised to appreciate the outdoors, and spent the early part of his childhood hunting and fishing in the Indiana countryside.  His passion for wildlife stayed with him long after his playing days were done, as he has served more than thirty-five years as the superintendent at Prairie Creek Park, a 2,300 acre refuge for those looking to reconnect with nature.

“My dad was an outdoors person,” says Ron Bonham, still a basketball legend in the basketball-crazed Hoosier State.  “He more or less raised me on the river.  We fished and hunted all the time.  He taught me how to appreciate nature, and how to respect the environment.”

Arriving late to the basketball court, Bonham proved to be a prodigious student of the game; his ball handling and shooting skills were far superior to those of players with more experience, and his court presence, even at such an early age, was impossible to ignore.  At Muncie Central, Bonham’s game only got better.  He finished his junior season by being named All-State, before erupting for 28 points-per-game in leading Muncie Central to the state finals as a senior.  Bonham finished his career as the leading scorer in the history of Indiana high school basketball with 2,023 points.  Indiana coaches and sportswriters were quick to acknowledge Bonham’s on-court excellence, voting him ‘Mr. Basketball’ while touting him as the state’s brightest college prospect since the great Robertson.  Bonham validated that praise by leading a contingent of Indiana All-Stars over its rival Kentucky counterparts, 101-64.  Deluged with scholarship offers, Bonham packed off to home-state Purdue.  He stayed just three days.

“I decided that four years is a long time to be unhappy,” Bonham said at the time.  He then went home to reconsider other offers.  His final choice:  The University of Cincinnati — the school that Robertson had carried to basketball fame.

Following Robertson to Cincinnati was not without its pitfalls, especially given the ‘Big O’s’ three-year run at the school; from 1958-60, Robertson – himself a ‘Mr. Basketball’ in the State of Indiana – set or broke 19 school and 14 NCAA records while leading the Bearcats to a 79-9 record and two straight NCAA tournament championship games (1959 and 1960).  It was, in many ways, a daunting task for the school’s Next Big Name – a near impossible act to follow.  However, the three-time College Player of the Year and national scoring leader at Cincinnati was instrumental in Bonham’s decision to attend college in the Queen City.  Robertson’s presence had transformed the Bearcat program into a national power, and Bonham embraced the long shadow cast by Oscar’s dizzying list of achievements and accolades.

There was little doubt that Counts would play professionally, but his date with the Boston Celtics would have to wait, as Oregon’s favorite son was selected to represent the United States in the 1964 Olympic Games in Tokyo, Japan.  Playing for another legendary coach, Hank Iba, Counts and his teammates shrugged off the underdog tag to finish 9-0, including a dominating 73-59 gold medal win over the previously undefeated Soviet Union.

The early sixties remain the Golden Era of Bearcat Basketball.  Following Robertson’s graduation, the team won its first national championship in 1960-61.  Led by All-Americans Bob Wiesenhahn and Paul Hogue, as well as future All-Americans Tom Thacker and Tony Yates, Cincinnati defeated an imposing Ohio State team featuring John Havlicek, Jerry Lucas, Bobby Knight and Larry Siegfried.  The win cemented Cincinnati’s burgeoning reputation as a national power, and set the stage for a rare event – repeating as national champions.

With freshmen ineligible to compete in varsity athletics, Bonham adjusted to college life while preparing to help his team secure back-to-back titles.  Cincinnati started Bonham’s sophomore season where it left off, bolting to a 10-1 record and a Number 2 ranking in the polls.  His role in those early games was to come off the bench.  Ever the consummate team player, Bonham understood that UC had lost only two players (Wiesenhahn and guard Carl Bouldin) from a team that ran off 22 straight wins on its way to that 70-65 title clincher over the Buckeyes.  Hogue, the team’s rugged rebounder, was still there.  Lanky forward Fred Dierking, the man with perhaps the sharpest elbows in the college game, was still there.  Guards Thacker and Yates were only juniors.  Bonham filled the role of Sixth Man to perfection, providing instant offense when head coach Ed Jucker sensed his team needed it.

“I like to have a good bench,” Jucker said at the time, referring to the player known alternately as the ‘Muncie Mortar’ and the ‘Blonde Bomber’.  “And Bonham helps make it one of the best.”

By season’s end, Bonham was playing a far more integral role in Cincinnati’s fortunes, with perhaps his biggest game coming in the National Semifinals against budding power UCLA.  In a tightly contested game (tied 37-37 at halftime), Hogue (36 points) and Bonham (19) powered UC to a 72-70 win and a rematch with Ohio State for the national championship.  Bonham would score 10 in that 71-59 victory, completing a dream season for a player unafraid to follow Robertson’s footsteps.

“You can’t put it into words,” he says.  “Even after all of these years it’s hard to believe what we accomplished.”

A year later Bonham was a certified star, earning Consensus All-America honors while leading the ’63 team in scoring (21.0 ppg).  Cincinnati made a then-unprecedented fifth straight trip to the Final Four in 1962-63, and narrowly missed capturing a third-straight national crown when Loyola (Ill.) overcame a 15-point deficit and defeated the Bearcats by a basket, 60-58, in overtime.  During those five seasons, UC recorded a 37-game win streak and posted a 161-16 record.  The five straight Final Four appearances remain a feat topped only by UCLA.  And Bonham was squarely in it all.

“What a thrill to be a part of those teams,” Bonham says, smiling.  “It was an honor to be associated with Bearcat basketball – it’s something I’ll never forget.”

UC’s Final Four streak ended a year later, but Bonham was once again named to the All-America team.  He was then the sixteenth player selected in the 1964 NBA draft, going in the second round to the defending champion Boston Celtics.  A great athlete in the best shape of his life, Bonham was nevertheless ill-prepared for those grueling training camps ran by the legendary Red Auerbach.  He found himself physically exhausted after two weeks of two-a-days, at times wondering whether he wanted to be so far away from home.  Somehow Bonham survived both his homesickness and Auerbach’s military-style boot camp, making the cut along with fellow rookie Mel Counts.  The Celtics roared out of the blocks; the sixty-two wins that season were a club record, and the club won it’s seventh consecutive NBA championship.

For Bonham, the wide-eyed rookie suddenly had the basketball world on a string.  He was an Indiana high school hoops legend, an NCAA champion, and a member for the greatest dynasty in professional sports.  His teammates were some of the greatest players in NBA history, including hall-of-fame talent such as Bill Russell, Sam Jones, KC Jones, Tom Heinsohn and John Havlicek.  Auerbach was revered in Boston and reviled outside of it, a certified genius and the NBA’s Coach of the Year.  Russell was the league’s MVP for a record fifth time.  Radio announcer Johnny Most belted out his signature call (“Havlicek stole the ball! Havlicek stole the ball!”) following Havlicek’s theft of inbounds pass during the final seconds of Eastern Division deciding game against Philadelphia.  Bonham soaked it all in – the awesome personalities, the key moments, the grueling practices – well aware that he was in a very special place indeed.

“The Celtics were a family,” Bonham says.  “As a rookie, I was considered an outsider.  But that all changed once I made the team.  At that point I became part of something truly special.”

The Celtics repeated as champions a year later, with Bonham playing 39 games as a reserve.  It was the team’s eighth consecutive title, a record that many feel will never be broken.  It was also a year of change for the aging franchise; Auerbach retired as coach following a 95-93 Game 7 win over the Los Angeles Lakers in the fabled Boston Garden, while Russell was named to succeed him as player/coach.  Bonham found himself playing less as the season went on, and by following summer he was out of basketball and back home in Indiana.

His time away from the game would prove short-lived; still a marquee name in his home state, the fledging Indiana Pacers coaxed him back onto the court for one more season of action.  That Bonham finished his cage career as an original member of the ABA’s Indiana Pacers is only fitting, given his towering presence over Indiana high school basketball.  To this day he remains part of the lore that fuels hoops hysteria in his home state, the stories told and retold through the generations.  From Plump to Robertson, Bonham to Bird, fans statewide can recite the historic moments that make basketball such a special part of their lives.  Bearcat and Celtic fans can, too, as Bonham’s achievements have left an indelible mark on two of this sport’s true dynasties.

Celtic Nation is honored to bring you this interview.

You were born on May 31st, 1942, in Muncie, Indiana.  Take me back in time – what was your childhood like, and what sports did you like to play?

I’ve always been an outdoors person, just like my farther and mother.  My father loved to hunt and fish – he always followed sports of all kinds – so I guess you could say I came by it honestly [laughs].  Growing up, especially in those early years, I spent a lot of time outdoors with my father.  We were always in the woods or on a stream, which remain some of my earliest memories of sports-related activities.  People think I grew up shooting baskets, but I had a heart murmur as a youngster and couldn’t participate in a strenuous sport such as basketball until about the eighth grade.  So I was about fourteen before I started playing competitively.

You’ve heard of Indiana basketball.  It’s known nationwide as the basketball capital.  My parents always had season tickets to the Muncie Central Bearcats, which was one of the powers in Indiana high school basketball.  Muncie Central has won more state championships than any other team in Indiana.  So I got the love of basketball from going to the Muncie Central games with my parents.  I used to work out two or three times a day, drilling every chance I could get, and I ended up being a pretty good player in high school.


You were twice a first-team All-State player at Muncie Central High School, finishing your career as the leading scorer in the history of Indiana high school basketball with 2,023 points.  Please share some of the memories from this period in your life.

We had a lot of talent on our high school team.  We were ranked Number 1 in the state during my senior year.  We won twenty-nine straight games but ended losing that last game, which was for the state championship.  That was one of the biggest disappointments that I ever had in my life as a basketball player.

I was fortunate enough to be Mr. Basketball of Indiana in 1960, and I was also lucky enough to be the Most Valuable Player of both the Kentucky and Indiana All-Star games.  But those honors really go back to the talent that we had on our high school team, especially during my senior season.  It was just phenomenal.  All five of the starting players on that team went on to play college basketball.  One of our guards was the state champion in the low hurdles.  They were just tremendous athletes.  And very unselfish, as well.  I was lucky enough that I got to shoot the ball a lot.  That was my role on the team – to score and rebound.

The backing that we had from the community was just tremendous.  I can remember going down to the semifinals and finals of the state championship in Indianapolis, and there was such a line of cars behind the bus that you couldn’t see the end of it.  Muncie Central Fieldhouse was one of the larger ones in the state – it held about 6,000 patrons, and it was full every game.  Since they’ve gone to the class basketball here in Indiana, there just isn’t the same interest as before.  I can remember sitting in the isles as a young child because there were so many people at the games.  As a matter of fact, families used to pass down their Muncie Central season tickets in their wills, that’s how much interest there was in Bearcat basketball.


You averaged 28 points-per-game as a senior, earning nicknames such as the “Blonde Bomber” and the “Muncie Mortar” along the way.  What was the secret to your prodigious scoring touch?

We had a basketball goal out behind our house, and I never missed a day once I started playing.  I can remember the summer in-between my ninth grade and sophomore years at Muncie Central.  I was out there playing, and I cracked a bone in my left foot and broke my ankle.  Even with a walking cast on – I don’t know how many walking casts I went through that summer – I never missed a day of shooting.  I think that had a lot to do with it.

I took tap dancing lessons for twelve years, starting at a very early age, and I think that that was one of the reasons for my coordination and leaping ability on the basketball court.  It especially made a difference in my footwork.  I also took acrobatics, which involved a lot of leg strengthening, and that absolutely made a difference.  I guess you could say that I was one of those white guys that could jump [laughs].

We used to go to one of the junior high schools that was open in the summer, and work out for three hours in the early afternoon, and then go outside and play at a church at night.  There are still pockets of interest like that today, but nothing like it used to be.  Kids just have so many other activities to distract them.


You were Indiana’s Mr. Basketball in 1960.  What did this honor mean to you then, and what does it mean to you now?

One of the things it proved was that team success really goes hand-in-hand with individual success.  We had awesome teams during my junior and senior seasons, so we were in the limelight quite a bit.  All of the big newspapers all around the state covered us, including the Indianapolis paper.  We were winning games by such a large margin that reporters followed us everywhere.  So I think our team accomplishments had a lot to do with people getting to know about my ability, which in turn led to me being named Mr. Basketball.


You followed the great Oscar Robertson to the University of Cincinnati.  Was this a coincidence or by design?

I wanted to go to a basketball school.  I had just over 300 offers for college, and I was torn between Purdue and the University of Cincinnati.  Purdue was a college football power, and the University of Cincinnati was a power basketball program.  And with Oscar being at Cincinnati, oh boy…I went to his senior banquet – he was a senior in college when I was a senior in high school – and you couldn’t even see Oscar at the table.  He won every award you could imagine that year.

I just really wanted to be a part of the UC program.  It was strictly a run-and-shoot, which is what I’d always played in high school, but then the coach had some health problems prior to my sophomore year and Ed Jucker came in as coach.  So my sophomore year I really had to buckle down and work on defense, and all the other aspects of the game.  It was a slowdown, half court type of offense, which is completely different from what I’d ever played before.  But it was obviously very successful.


Although denied a championship in high school, the Bearcats won the NCAA title during your freshman and sophomore seasons, while finishing as a runner-up to Loyola of Chicago following your junior year at the school.  What memories stand out after all of these years, and what was it like to be a part of the Golden Age of Bearcat Basketball?

I can remember being well ahead of Loyola – we were the top-rated team in the country, and we were winning that championship game handily – and Vic Rouse was guarding me.  At one point in the game he actually said, ‘Ron, great game.  You guys have a great team.’  He had actually given up.  Well, our strategy when leading like that was to go into a stall.  We had worked on their zone press for two weeks.  We felt we were capable of holding the lead for an extended period of time.  Well, we were so far ahead that we started stalling with well over ten minutes left in the game, instead of our usual six-to-eight minutes.  It was just one of those things where the momentum changed.  We threw the ball away, lost momentum, and I’ll be doggone if they didn’t come back and beat us in overtime.  We should have had three national championships in a row, but the game just got away from us.

The talent on those three Cincinnati teams was phenomenal.  There were two high school All-Americans that came in as freshmen – George Wilson and myself.  We had great defensive players in Tom Thacker and Paul Hogue.  Anytime you can beat an Ohio State team that had John Havlicek, Jerry Lucas and Larry Siegfried, and do it for the national championship, then you’re really doing something.  Ohio State was rated Number 1 in the nation during my freshman and sophomore seasons, and Cincinnati was rated Number 2, and we beat them for the title both times – and pretty handily, at that.  So that shows the talent that you had on those Cincinnati teams.


You were a two-time All-America selection at Cincinnati.  How did it feel to be recognized as one of the greatest players in the country?

It was a real thrill.  Basketball had been such a large part of my life, going back as far as I could remember as a youngster, and to be named one of the top five players in the United States was such an honor.  But there again, I need to talk about my teammates.  We were so successful because of the group, not just because of one player, and I ended up getting a lot of votes because of that success.  I may have been the top-scorer, but there were other players who got you the ball, set the picks, things like that.  And a lot of the plays were set for me, so that I could shoot.  So I was lucky all through my career – high school, college, and then with the Boston Celtics – to be able to play with great teammates who know how to win.


The Boston Celtics drafted you in the second round, the 16th overall selection.  Please take me back to that first training camp.

I can remember talking to Auerbach over the phone, and he says, ‘Bonham, you’ll want to be in the greatest shape you’ve ever been in your life.’  And I was already working out twice a day, six hours a day, and I was in the best shape of my life.  And then I went to training camp.  I think there were three openings at that time, and there were between fifty and sixty people competing for those spots.  They were letting anybody into camp who wanted to try out.  After the first day of training camp, only a few of those guys bothered to come back.  It was that brutal.  I can also remember them carrying Tommy Heinsohn off the floor after that first practice.  He passed out – it was a real hot day.  Auerbach wanted to see if you really wanted it.  That was his way.  It was so excruciating – he wanted to see the pain, and he wanted to see if you really wanted to be on that team.


Red Auerbach was notorious for those preseason barnstorming tours that took the team all over New England.  Were you ever a part of these tours and, if so, do you have a fond memory or an amusing story to share?

A lot of times we played against each other.  In one of the exhibition games I scored something like forty-two points, and Auerbach said, ‘I’m going to have Havlicek on you in the next exhibition game.’  And I think I scored something like twelve in that one.  John was all over me, all over that court [laughs].  But the fans were great wherever we went in New England.  The stands were always full.  The passion reminded me of the fans we had in high school and college.


Today, players have sports agents and lawyers to negotiate contracts with NBA clubs.  What was it like back then?

When we went in to sign our contracts, I’d seen Red at quite a few of our college games.  So I knew who he was.  Mel Counts and I were drafted the same year, and we went in at the same time to talk contract with Mr. Auerbach, and there Red was, sitting in his chair with his feet up on the desk.  He had that cigar jammed in his mouth, and the room was so damned smoky.  He put his feet down, and he shoved two pieces of paper across the desk to Mel Counts and I.  And he said, ‘This ain’t a democracy.  Here’s what you boys are going to get.’  So Mel and I signed right then and there – that was the way Red negotiated [laughs].


Walter Brown passed away on September 7th, 1964.  Please tell me a little about Mr. Brown.

That was my first year coming in.  Everything was first class – wherever we traveled, wherever we stayed.  That ownership was just fantastic.  It was the best in the league at that time.  It really spoiled me, because I played on the first Indiana Pacer team, and it was just the compete opposite in the ABA.  We sat in airports all night long, things like that.  There was so much disorganization.  In Boston, everything was organized.  From the day you left on your trip everything was laid out perfectly.  It was just top notch.


The Boston Celtics retired the honorary “Number 1” in honor of Mr. Brown during a Boston Garden ceremony on October 17th.  What memories do you have of this emotional event?

There was a lot of sorrow, and there was a lot of support for the man who had given so much of himself through the years.  I remember that Red just thought the world of him – he talked so highly of Mr. Brown, and I know it really hurt Red when Mr. Brown passed away.  We all missed him, that’s for sure.


The Celtics won 62 games that season, a club record.  What was it like to be a part of such a successful campaign?

I used to follow the Boston Celtics because of their winning tradition.  The players amazed me, especially Bill Russell.  Today you see players block a shot, and knock it five rows into the stands.  Russell would block a shot to start the fast break.  His coordination was unbelievable.  The way he passed off, things like that.  That team had Sam [Jones] and KC [Jones], Heinsohn and Havlicek…it was truly a special place to be.

You come out of high school and college, and you think you’re a hotshot, and then you play with the best players in the world.  It’s humbling.  My second year in Boston, I saw the leading scorer in the nation try out for the Boston Celtics and he didn’t even make the team.  Satch Sanders made him look ridiculous.  So for me, it was humbling to come in and see that type of talent, and play against that type of talent in practice.  You learn a lot.  They were great mentors.


The ’65 playoffs produced one of the most dramatic moments in NBA history, as Johnny Most makes his legendary radio call: “Havlicek stole the ball! Havlicek stole the ball!”  Please take me back to that series in general, and that game in particular.

That whole series was a knockdown, drag out fight.  I can remember Bill trying to throw the ball in and it hitting the guide wire.  We were all going crazy on the sidelines.  And for Havlicek to make that play, it was just fantastic.  I can still remember Johnny Most and that voice of his – Johnny and I used to spend a lot of time together on the road, talking, and I respected him so much.  And like I’ve said, every game in that series was tough.  Philly had great talent as well, but when it was over you saw who the champs were.


The Celtics dismantled the Lakers 4-1 to secure the team’s seventh consecutive title – and eighth overall.  While old hat to players like Bill Russell and Sam Jones, it was a new experience for you.  What was it like win your first NBA championship?

It was bedlam when we won that final game.  Fans streamed onto the court.  Havlicek and I got off the beaten path going back to the dressing room, so to speak, and it was just crazy.  Our warm-up jackets get ripped off, our jerseys get ripped off our back, and then I felt someone get hold of my trunks – I thought those were coming off next [laughs].  Luckily, some security people found us and got us into the dressing room.  But we thought we were going to lose all of our clothes [laughs].  What an environment to play basketball – the fans were the best anywhere, and they really supported the team.  And that parquet floor – what a beautiful floor.  It was also a great shooting floor.  There wasn’t a better place to place basketball than the Boston Garden.


Red Auerbach would bow out the following season with yet another championship, the team’s eighth in a row.  The starting five had an average age of 31 that season, and many experts felt the team was too old to win again.  How were the Celtics able to overcome the age factor and send Red off a winner?

It was the closeness of the guys on that team – it was just one big family.  I’ll tell you, Bill Russell didn’t speak to any rookies or anyone new coming in.  John Havlicek and I had been friends all through college, and I asked John about that.  I said, ‘What’s the deal with Bill?’  And he said, ‘That’s just the way he is.  If you make the team then you’re a part of the family, and that’s the way this whole team is.  That’s the reason we’re so successful.’  So after I did make the team it was like night and day.  Russell invited us over to his house for dinner, and at that time he had a little soul food restaurant in downtown Boston.  He invited us down there and treated us to dinner.  So it really was like family, and I think that’s a big reason for the team’s success.  Of course, you’ve got to have talent, and Boston had plenty of that, too.  But race was never an issue.  It was just a great environment.  The talent was there, the love for each other was there, and that was really the secret to the team’s success.


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?

He was a tremendous coach, very knowledgeable.  Very knowledgeable of our opponents.  And we always had a good game plan.  All the players respected him.  There was always humor in the dressing room – not during our practices, because they were very heated – but the camaraderie went a long way towards the success of the Boston Celtics, and Red had a lot to do with that.  He was genius.


Let’s talk about your ABA career – you were a member of the first Indiana Pacer team.

Well, for one thing I didn’t like the basketball.  It had a completely different feel.  As a shooter, I never did like the feel.  It was rubber-coated, and it didn’t have the deeper groove like the NBA basketball.  The first year of the ABA’s existence was chaos, it really was.  I can’t tell you how many times we stayed in airports all night long.  The scheduling wasn’t like it should have been, and some of the rooms we stayed in were pretty bad.  I’ll tell you, I was spoiled by my time spent with the Boston Celtics.  I should have played several more years, but I’d always had an interest in the outdoors, and I was an old homebody [laughs].  I don’t know what my phone bills were when I was living in Boston, but I used to call home several times a week and talk to mom and dad.  I’d talk for several hours at a time.  So I guess I just liked it more back home – I was happier to go back home and pet my birddog [laughs].


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

I’m in my thirty-fifth year as superintendent of a 2,300 acre recreational facility for the City of Muncie, Indiana.  I’ve many other opportunities to make double or triple the money that I make here, but my dad more-or-less raised me on the river.  He taught me how to hunt, how to appreciate nature, and how to respect the environment.  So everything just fell into place when I had the chance to take this job at Prairie Creek Reservoir.  I’ve been here thirty-five years, and my wife has been working at this same facility for thirty-four.  Anytime you can come to a job and work eight, nine, or ten hours and wonder where the time went, that’s a job you can stick with.  And that’s what it feels like.  Hopefully my health will hold up two more years, and then I’m going to fade off into the sunset [laughs].

I’ve also been involved in politics – I was the county commissioner for twelve years, serving three full terms as administrator for the county, which is equivalent to being the mayor of a city.  We have about 120,000 people in Delaware County.  But after my third term I went to the doctor, and my blood pressure was sky high, so I decided ease up a little.  It was hard to do, because I’ve always been a public relations person, and I enjoyed serving my community as county commissioner.

We built a new home just east of the reservoir – we’ve got fifty or sixty acres, all in a wildlife habitat with the state.  We’ve got an abundance of quail, and we’ve put in a new seven acre wetland, so my wife and I are both looking forward to retirement.  We raise Springer Spaniels – we have fourteen right now, and they stay in a very nice kennel.


Final Question:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  If you could offer one piece of advice on life to others, what would that be?

Don’t feel that you’re better than anybody else.  Don’t ask someone to do something that you wouldn’t do yourself.  I think that’s respected.


By: Michael D. McClellan | The menacing scowl, shaved head, and ripped physique are all part of the package, one that ushers in a new, physical breed of player into the NBA. He predates the baggy shorts era but plays his way into it, his swagger at home in a league that grows increasingly connected to the worlds of hip-hop and fashion. McDaniel’s game is built on an old school code that has been officiated out of today’s NBA. There are no flagrant 1s or 2s when McDaniel enters the league, just hard fouls that morph into muggings come playoff time. A series of unruly events—McHale’s clothesline of Kurt Rambis in the ’84 Finals, the Jordan Rules employed by the Pistons to slow down His Airness, and “Malice at the Palace” to name a few—prompts the league to change its rules, killing the post-game and turning the quick three into the weapon du jour.

The player known as “X-Man” is the prototype NBA small forward for his era, a bruising player with a deft touch and a nice offensive game. Rewind to college, and he becomes the first player to lead the nation in scoring and rebounding in the same season. Back it up to the beginning and McDaniel, the oldest of six siblings, grows up like most kids in the football-crazed state of South Carolina.

“I didn’t play organized basketball until the seventh grade,” McDaniel says. “Up until then it was always pickup games in the street. It was just something to do. Baseball was my first love. I pitched, caught, and played first base. I hit for power and average. And when I wasn’t playing baseball, I was playing football. Down here, you had to play football. South Carolina went 0–11 in Lou Holtz’s first year here, and there would be 83,000 people at the game. Every game.”

McDaniel attends A.C. Flora High School in Columbia.

“I wasn’t doing my schoolwork and the things necessary to be a student-athlete,” McDaniel says. “Half of the time I didn’t go to class. I started on the basketball team as a sophomore, but I didn’t play during my junior year because of poor grades. My coach told me that if I wanted to play on his basketball team, then I had to do my schoolwork.”

Eligible as a senior, McDaniel starts alongside Tyrone Corbin, who also goes on to enjoy a long NBA career. After an 0–3 start, A.C. Flora goes 22–0 and wins the state championship. McDaniel averages 18 points and 14 rebounds while often only playing in the first and third quarters. He’s suddenly a major college prospect.

“I was set to sign with South Carolina, and then one day I opened up the newspaper and saw where USC had signed six guys. The coaches at USC knew my situation. I had a 1.9 GPA at the beginning of my senior year, and a 2.4 GPA by the time I graduated. They said that if I went straight to USC that I would probably flunk out, so they wanted me to go to prep school and get my grades up first. They didn’t shoot straight with me, so I decided to go in another direction.”

For reasons unknown even to himself, McDaniel signs with Wichita State and plays his college ball halfway across the country. He stays there four years, finishing his career as a Consensus All-American.

“I made history becoming the first player to lead the nation in scoring and rebounding in the same season. I scored more than 2,000 points and had over 1,000 rebounds in college. I finished second only to Wes Unseld as the all-time leading rebounder in college basketball history. I won a Missouri Valley Conference championship, and a conference tournament championship. Those things are great, but my college career wasn’t complete because I didn’t win a national championship.”

The NBA institutes the Draft Lottery in 1985. The player every GM wants is Georgetown’s Patrick Ewing, the singular can’t-miss prospect in a draft loaded with talent. New York wins the lottery and picks Ewing, who is followed in short order by Wayman Tisdale and Benoit Benjamin. McDaniel’s name is called next.

“I was just happy, man,” McDaniel says. “Our chairs were placed together in Madison Square Garden, and Patrick’s name was called first. We all went in order. When David Stern called my name I was just thankful.”

For McDaniel and Ewing, the draft marks the beginning of a lasting friendship.

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

McDaniel’s game is decidedly old school. A student of the game, he grows up idolizing guys like Bob Dandridge, Wes Unseld, Elvin Hayes, and Bobby Jones.

“As a player, I took a little something from all of those guys,” he says. “Dandridge had the turnaround jump shot. Elvin Hayes, too. The Big E [Hayes] was unstoppable on the block. People made a big deal out of Michael Jordan shooting that turnaround jumper late in his career, but I was shooting that shot in college. I saw guys like Dandridge and the Big E do it, and I wanted to do it, too.”

McDaniel’s shaved head and menacing scowl injects an attitude missing from the Sonics’ DNA. A few days into his first training camp, McDaniel trades punches with Reggie King. When the season starts, there are scuffles with heavyweights such as Cliff “Tree Top” Robinson, Kevin “T-Rex” Willis, and Calvin “Pit Bull” Natt. McDaniel quickly becomes a fan favorite.

“If I had backed down my rookie year, guys would have tried to push me around. I wanted to make sure that everyone knew I was worth the rookie contract. I wasn’t going to take a cheap shot and turn the other cheek. I wasn’t a dirty player. I played hard and clean, but I wasn’t going to take shit from anyone.”

The Sonics expect big things from its brash rookie, and McDaniel impresses from the start. He averages 17 points and eight rebounds. Like his pal Ewing, the recognition comes quickly.

“I was the Basketball Digest co-Rookie of the Year, along with Karl Malone. I won the Seagram’s NBA Rookie of the Year Award outright,” McDaniel says. “Patrick won the NBA Rookie of the Year Award. He only played 50 games that year, and I played the whole season, so I tell him that they gave the award to the wrong guy, and that he should do the right thing and give me my damn trophy back [laughs]. He’ll come back with something like, ‘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.’ Patrick deserved the award, but one of these day I’m gonna pay him a visit and steal that trophy.”

McDaniel enters the league with Bird and Magic in their primes, and a young Michael Jordan on the rise. Going up against the game’s superstars is a master class in NBA readiness.

“I’d already played against Michael Jordan in the Pan-Am tryouts, so I was more afraid of Bird and Dr. J,” McDaniel says. “When I went to Philadelphia that first time, I was like, ‘Man, that’s Doc!’ I asked the ball boy to go get his autograph. Then, in the game, Doc goes up over me for an alley-oop dunk. He was probably a 15-year veteran at that point in his career, but he could still jump.

“When 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]. There was a game before Larry started having all of those back problems, and he was going up against Shawn Kemp. Larry went 40–15–15. 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 Bird, and James Worthy, because they forced you to be on top of your game. If you weren’t, then they were going to embarrass you.”

The Sonics’ future is built on McDaniel, sharpshooter Dale Ellis, and the versatile Tom Chambers. All three players average more than 20 points during that 1986–87 season, a feat that they duplicate a year later. While McDaniel continues to produce over the next several seasons, the Sonics struggle to take the next step as a title contender. McDaniel’s role changes from starter to Sixth Man to starter again, but the Sonics continue to spin their wheels. Chambers is eventually traded to Phoenix, and Shawn Kemp is selected in the first round of the 1989 NBA Draft. Convinced that Kemp is the future, the Sonics ship McDaniel to the Suns fifteen games into the 1990–91 season.

“Phoenix wasn’t a good fit. They put me out there and told me to shoot jump shots. 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 see Tom and Kevin doing their thing, Mark West slashing to the basket, and Jeff Hornacek shooting up top. I’m standing in the corner shooting jumpers. That wasn’t my game. I wasn’t a spot-up shooter. I was more of a slashing rebounder. They didn’t want me to get the rebound and take my man to the hoop. They wanted me to kick it to Kevin Johnson and let him go one-on-one.”

After one season in Phoenix, McDaniel is traded to the Knicks. With a bruising frontline of Ewing, McDaniel, and Charles Oakley, the Knicks win 51 games before meeting the Chicago Bulls in the Eastern Conference Semifinals. The series goes the distance, with Michael Jordan prevailing in seven games.

“It was a war,” McDaniel says. “There weren’t very many games that I couldn’t get up and walk away from, but my body was beat up after every game. Patrick played an unbelievable series. I felt like we had championship potential, but we didn’t get the job done.”

A contract dispute ends McDaniel’s stay in New York after one season.

“I got caught up in a contract squabble in January of that 1991–92 regular season, and the team basically stopped playing me. We had a twelve game lead on Boston at that point, and management was sure that we were going to win the Atlantic Division. There was just over twenty games left, and I think Boston won 15 of their last 16 games. The Celtics and Knicks finished tied, but Boston won the division because they beat us 3–2 during the season. I felt we should have won the division hands down, but Ernie Grunfeld and Dave Checkett let my contract get in the way.”
McDaniel signs with Boston ahead of the 1992–93 regular season, the first following the retirement of Larry Bird. Boston finishes 48–34, and loses in the first round to the young, hungry Charlotte Hornets. Tragedy strikes later that summer, when Reggie Lewis passes away.

“Reggie was a great leader and my advocate,” McDaniel says. “When Chris Ford moved me to the bench, Reggie lobbied to get 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 kid on the block. Reggie and I worked well together; we had a play we called ‘Two-Turnover-Three.’ 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 was something that the two of us ran.
“Reggie was a beautiful person . . . He was a community-minded guy. If there was a worthy cause going down, Reggie would be right there in the middle of it. It hurt a whole lot when I heard the news that he had died. I sat in my room and cried for a long time.”

McDaniel plays three seasons for the Celtics. He develops a deep connection with its rabid fans.

“I loved the fans. They supported me like I was there my whole career. People say they’re spoiled with all of those championships, but I wish that I had been able to help them win another title. I’d go out to dinner, or go shopping on Newbury Street, and the fans would 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 I’d go to a restaurant and they’d say, ‘Give Mr. McDaniel what he wants, and put it on my bill!’ It was like being a rock star!”

McDaniel remains a big Robert Parish fan.

“Man, I love Robert Parish. He’s a character, and fun to have around. People will ask why he’s so quiet, but that’s just his demeanor. He’s the nicest person that you could ever hope to meet. If you want to know where you stand with Robert, 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 likes you, he will sit down and talk to you for hours on end.”

McDaniel counts himself among the blessed to have known the great Red Auerbach. And like so many other players before him, he has a story to tell.

“I remember when I visited Boston as a free agent,” McDaniel says. “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 about 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 asked him if I could make one phone call. I didn’t want to call my girlfriend. I didn’t want to call my momma. I called Patrick Ewing. I said, ‘Man, Red Auerbach has got me cornered in this room. If you tell me to talk to New York again, then I won’t sign this contract.’ Patrick said, ‘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, ‘Big Fella, you’re not leaving this room until we have an answer one way or the other.’ I thought about it for 10 or 15 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.’”