By: Michael D. McClellan | The man known as “Cornbread” arrives as the Celtics bottom out, the organization’s future as cloudy as a room filled with Red Auerbach’s cigar smoke. After decades of acquiring talented, high-character players who put the team’s goals ahead of their own, Boston is suddenly a breeding ground for malcontents and me-first players, as a wave of overpaid and under-performing athletes infect the NBA. The 1977–78 season disintegrates almost as soon as it begins, a campaign that sees Jo Jo White shut down with injuries, Charlie Scott traded away, and Heinsohn fired after 34 games. Havlicek, the team’s elder statesman, plays all 82 games and does his best to represent Celtic Pride. He announces his retirement on January 29, 1978, igniting a league-wide farewell tour that ends with a meaningless 131–114 Boston Garden victory over the hapless Buffalo Braves. The ongoing drama rolls through the summer and on into the 1978–79 season, headlined by Auerbach’s courtship with the rival Knicks.
In steps Cedric Maxwell, who joins the Celtics as the 12th pick in the 1977 NBA draft. A star at lightly-regarded UNC-Charlotte, Maxwell’s promising transition to the pros goes largely unnoticed due to the circus atmosphere permeating North Station. He plays in 72 games, averaging seven points and five boards, and displays a knack for cleaning up missed shots. Not a bad start for a player hoping to ball elsewhere.
“When I found out I was going to be drafted by Boston, I couldn’t believe it,” Maxwell says. “I’m a Southern boy. I wasn’t prepared to make my home in Boston. Besides, I heard that Atlanta was going to take me with the 14th pick if I were still on the board, so it wouldn’t have broken my heart if Red had passed on me.”
Maxwell’s road to the NBA starts in Kinston, North Carolina. It’s hardly the Jim Crow South, but it isn’t the most progressive place, either.
“North Carolina was a segregated situation in the late ’50s and early ’60s. I vividly remember the white and colored water fountains and bathrooms.”
Maxwell lives in Kinston until age six, at which point his father’s military obligation takes him to Hawaii.
“I felt isolated . . . Hawaii was a great environment and a great learning experience, so it’s really hard to complain. I remember my mother taking us to the beach on Thanksgiving and Christmas, and how much fun we had on those trips together as a family. Culturally, we were around a lot of Asian kids and native Hawaiians. The diversity was quite a contrast from North Carolina in the late ’50s.”
They say that all roads lead home. In Maxwell’s case, it’s on a commercial flight instead of in the family station wagon.
“We moved back to Kinston, which is where I played my high school basketball,” Maxwell explains. “I was something of a late-bloomer—I was cut from team as a junior—but I grew from 6–3 to 6–7 in the span of a year, and we ended up winning the state championship. From there I decided to attend UNC-Charlotte.”
Maxwell’s arrival helps transform a basketball program that had never won more than 15 games in a season; the 49ers lose just 18 games during his four years at the school, and the 1976 NIT Tournament becomes known as “Cornbread’s Garden Party,” after the 49ers reach the finals against Kentucky.
“There weren’t many who got to see us play during the regular season, so we were an unknown coming into the NIT. We got on a roll and beat NC State and Oregon. We also beat a very good San Francisco team with Bill Cartwright at center. The loss to Kentucky was tough to take, because we’d had such a good year and the game was close. Rick Robey was on that team. He would later be my teammate in Boston.”
Maxwell is named the tournament’s Most Valuable Player.
“Winning the MVP award proved that I was good enough to play with the best in the country. Unfortunately, we didn’t win the championship. I’d trade the award for a win over Kentucky in the final, no hesitation.”
A year later, UNCC makes a storybook run to the Final Four. Maxwell’s star shines brightest in the 1977 Mideast Regional Final against Michigan. The 75–68 win catapults the 49ers into the Final Four and a date with Marquette, the other Cinderella story of the tournament. With three seconds left in a tight and tense National Semifinal, Maxwell hits a dramatic shot to tie the game at 49. And then…
“Butch Lee of Marquette flings a length-of-the-court inbounds pass toward Bo Ellis,” Maxwell says, shaking his head. “The ball is deflected off of Ellis’s hands, but then it goes directly to his teammate, Jerome Whitehead. Whitehead bumped me, but I was still able to partially block his dunk. The ball hit the backboard and bounced off the rim before dropping. The shot somehow goes in, and Marquette gets the victory. They win the national championship a couple of nights later.”
The four years Maxwell spends on campus represent a Golden Age for UNCC basketball. He averages 20 points and 12 rebounds in each of his final two seasons at Charlotte, and walks away having never lost at home.
“How many players can say that they’ve never lost a home game?” he asks proudly. “We were 58–0. It’s a remarkable statistic because we competed against a mixture of teams during that run, some of them very good. Robert Parish played us in Charlotte, and Centenary was very tough at that time. We beat them by two points. We first faced Robert in the 1975 NIT Tipoff Tournament, and we won that game as well. I had his number in college. He had to come to Boston to keep me from beating him in the pros.”
Had he played for a major program, Maxwell would have been a top five pick. Auerbach, looking for a rebounding forward with a nose for the basket, grabs Maxwell when the Celtics pick at twelve.
“I joined a team that suffered its first losing season in almost ten years,” Maxwell says. “We had veterans who had won two championships together. We also had guys like Dave Bing, Curtis Rowe, and Sidney Wicks. Kermit Washington was brought in and played 32 games. Ernie DiGregorio played 27. We had a collection of former All-Stars, but the chemistry just wasn’t right. It reached a point of desperation. It was a very difficult period.”
The Celtics’ fortunes change with the arrival of Larry Bird in 1979. By the time Bird arrives in Boston he’s already a national phenom, leading Indiana State to 1979 NCAA National Championship Game before falling to Magic Johnson’s Michigan State Spartans. Most expect that Bird will become a solid pro; few, however, can foresee Bird becoming one of the greatest players in NBA history. All Bird does in his first season is lead the Celtics to 61 wins.
“Larry came in with a chip on his shoulder,” Maxwell says. “There were so many people who questioned his talent, and who said that he wasn’t going to be great. Others labeled him the ‘White Hope.’ Larry was determined to come in and prove these people wrong. He worked hard and he carried that attitude with him all the time. He was very motivated to succeed.”
For a young Cedric Maxwell, having Bird on the roster means making personal sacrifices for the good of the team, not an easy ask of a player with so much talent.
“Larry’s arrival meant that my role changed. The previous season I’d averaged 19 points-per-game and was the go-to guy on offense. Larry was suddenly the primary weapon. He played on the opposite side of the basket and I understood the need for me to sacrifice in order to make the team better. Personal statistics and achievements weren’t important to me. I was a team player. I wanted to win, so I concentrated on other aspects of my game.”
Bird’s presence returns a team to its roots—teamwork instead of individual agendas, hard work instead of shortcuts. Three years of dysfunction washes away over the course of 82 games. A playoff defeat at the hands of the Philadelphia 76ers does little to slow the renaissance underway on Causeway Street.
“As for that particular Celtics team, I’d have to say that we were the best that year in terms of the total package, but we just didn’t get the job done in playoffs. Philly was more athletic, and Los Angeles had more foot speed. I think that was obvious to anyone who followed NBA basketball at the time. But I still think that we were the more complete team of the three.”
Bird also brings a swagger to the Celtics. He quickly becomes one of the most famous trash-talkers in the game, a trait that he shares with Maxwell.
“Max was always talking trash,” Larry Bird says, flipping the script. “There would be times when he’d walk into the locker room after an interview and say, ‘Hey, we’ve got to get serious tonight. I just said something the other team’s not going to like.’”
Maxwell: “Larry was a pretty good talker himself—in fact, he was the talker of all talkers! M. L. Carr was always talking trash. Kevin McHale was always talking. Danny Ainge, too. It was total team effort! I talked trash because I knew I’d have to back it up. I didn’t want to go out there and look like a fool after saying things to fire up an opponent. It raised the stakes.”
With Bird and Maxwell, the Celtics’ frontline is good—but when Auerbach engineers a trade with Golden State to land Robert Parish and Kevin McHale, it becomes historic.
“Robert had a bad agent representing him at the time, which helped Red pull off the trade with the Warriors,” says Maxwell. “That was one of the best trades in NBA history—or one of the worst, depending on which end you were on. The Big Three became legendary, and rightfully so. I was the Fourth Musketeer, the guy who got lost in the shadows cast by Larry, Kevin and Robert. I’d like to think that I was a pretty important piece of the puzzle while I was there.”
Boston goes on to win the 1981 NBA Championship, defeating the Houston Rockets. Game 5 of the Finals is vintage Max; with the series deadlocked at two games apiece and Rockets star Moses Malone talking trash, Maxwell responds with a 28-point, 19-rebound performance that helps shift momentum and propel the Celtics to their 14th banner. Maxwell is named Finals MVP.
“That was the year we were down 3–1 to the 76ers in the Eastern Conference Finals,” he says. “Philadelphia had Julius Erving and a great supporting cast, so that series felt like we were playing for the championship. We came back and won three straight close games. Beating Houston was incredible, but we knew that they weren’t as talented or as deep as Philly. Overconfidence was the only thing that would could keep us from winning that series, and we weren’t going to let that happen. Being named MVP was icing on the cake.”
“When most people think of Robert, they see the stoic player who didn’t say much and who didn’t change his expression all that often. He was a talker away from the court, and he could tell a joke. A lot of people don’t realize that about Robert. He was a really funny guy with a very good sense of humor.”
The Celtics win another NBA championship in 1984, this one against Magic Johnson and the heavily favored Lakers. This time it’s Bird who garners MVP honors, but nobody plays bigger than Maxwell when it matters most. “I always looked at myself as a big game player,” Maxwell says. “My mother is a very competitive person. I think that’s where I got it.”
That Maxwell outshines Bird in Game 7 is a surprise to most, but not to those who know him best. He attacks forward James Worthy from the opening tip, scoring 24 points and crashing the boards like a fringe player on a 10-day contract.
“I think my performance against the Lakers was so noticeable because I was more laid back than Larry,” he continues. “Larry only knew one way to play—he gave 110 percent all the time. I turned it on when I needed to. I had a little extra to give in that game.”
Maxwell’s time with the Celtics ends amid a very public feud with Auerbach, when, on September 6, 1985, he’s traded to the Los Angeles Clippers for center Bill Walton. Auerbach accuses his forward of not working hard enough to rehab a knee injury during the team’s failed attempt to repeat as champions, and is so angry that he orders a favorable mention of Maxwell stricken from one of his books.
“I’d like to wish them well even though they didn’t wish me well,” a bitter Maxwell says following the trade. “I’ve got 30 pairs of green tennis shoes. I’m going to spray-paint them white. I don’t want to see anything green unless it’s money.”
Time is a healer of all wounds, and eventually Maxwell and Auerbach are able to forgive and forget.
“It was like a father and son issue, both of us stubborn and unwilling to give in. I was very bitter about the way I was portrayed, because I have a tremendous amount of integrity. I’d played hurt for the Celtics on many occasions, and there was never a time that I didn’t play hard and try to help the team win. And then I hurt my knee. It was hard not to take it personally, but I had to accept that part of the business and move on.”
Through it all, Maxwell leaves his mark: A Final Four appearance. Two NBA titles. The Finals MVP Award. And then, on December 15, 2003, Maxwell’s number 31 is retired to the rafters with all the other great Celtics.
“It means a great deal to be part of the Celtics family,” he says. “When you think of all the great players to wear a Celtics uniform—Russell, Cousy, Havlicek, and Bird to name a few—to have your number retired with theirs is the ultimate honor. I’m very proud of that.”
You were born in Kinston, North Carolina, Monday, November 21, 1955. Please tell me a little about growing up there.
I had a good childhood. My father was a military man and my mother was a traditional, stay-at-home spouse who raised three children. We lived in Kinston until I was six, at which point my father’s military obligation took us to Hawaii. North Carolina was a segregated situation in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s, and I vividly remember when there were “white” and “colored” water fountains and bathrooms.
While UNC-Charlotte’s basketball program has enjoyed recent success, your teams put it on the map. What led you to play your college ball at UNC-Charlotte?
We moved back to Kinston, which is where I played my high school basketball. I was something of a late-bloomer, getting cut from the team as a junior before finally finding success on the court during my senior season. I grew from 6’-3 ½” to 6’-7 ½” in the span of a year, which also helped. It was a wonderful time, and we were a very good team. We won the championship and from there I decided to attend UNC-Charlotte. By that time I was ready to leave home, and the school was far enough away to where I could enjoy my independence. It was also close enough that I could get home when I needed to, which was a big plus. UNC-Charlotte is also a good school with a good reputation. I’m very happy that I decided to go there.
The 1976 NIT Tournament was also known to many as “Cornbread’s Garden Party”. UNC-Charlotte reached the finals against Kentucky and you were named the tournament’s Most Valuable Player. What do you remember most about that tournament, and how special was it to be recognized in such a way?
Our run through the tournament stands out. Beating NC State and Oregon – a lot of people don’t know this, but Oregon was coached by Dick Harter, who is now the assistant coach and defensive guru for the Celtics. We also beat a very good San Francisco team with Bill Cartwright at center. We reached the championship game before losing to Kentucky, 71-67, which was a tough loss to a very good team. Kentucky was coached by Joe B. Hall that season. Rick Robey was on that team, and he would later be my teammate with the Celtics.
Winning the MVP award showed people that I was good enough to play with the best in the country. That’s what meant the most to me about receiving such an honor. There weren’t many who got to see UNC-Charlotte play during the regular season, so we weren’t all that well-known coming into the NIT. We got on a roll and beat some very good teams, so it was very satisfying to run. Unfortunately, we didn’t win the championship.
March 26th, 1977: There are three seconds left in the NCAA National Semifinal between UNC-Charlotte and Marquette. You hit a big shot to tie the game at 49. Tell me what happens next.
Butch Lee of Marquette flung a length-of-the-court inbounds pass toward Bo Ellis. The ball deflected off of Ellis’ hands and went directly to his teammate, Jerome Whitehead. Whitehead bumped me – I still think it was a foul [laughs] – but I was able to partially block his dunk. The ball hit the backboard and bounced off the rim before dropping, but there should have been a goaltending call [laughs]! Jerome clearly touched the ball over the cylinder. The shot goes in and the referees confer before ruling in Marquette’s favor. Marquette and Al McGuire get the victory and continue their Cinderella run to the NCAA Championship.
Very few people realize what I was prepared to do if I’d stolen that long inbounds pass. I was prepared to call timeout immediately after the steal, which wouldn’t have been a very smart thing to do in that situation. Do you know why?
No, why?
Because we didn’t have any timeouts left [laughs]! If I had called timeout I would have been Chris Webber before Chris Webber. Chris became infamous for calling the timeout that he didn’t have, so in that respect I have to thank Jerome Whitehead for sparing me that indignity [laughs].
If you were asked to select a signature game from either of those tournaments, which one would it be and why?
That’s an excellent question – I’ve never been asked that before. If I had to select a signature game it would have to be the 1977 Mideast Regional Final against Michigan. The Wolverines were the number one seed and the heavy favorite to knock us out of the tournament. We went into this game and played with tremendous confidence, and because of this we were able to beat them convincingly. I think the final score was 75-68. I’d select this game because of the work I did on the boards.
You and senior teammate Melvin Watkins can boast of never losing a home game. The 49ers won all 58 games played in the Belk Gym and former Charlotte Coliseum. Where does this accomplishment rank in terms of your overall athletic achievement?
It’s a great accomplishment – how many players can say that they’ve never lost a home game? It’s a remarkable statistic because we played a mixture of teams during that run, some of them very good. Robert Parish played us in Charlotte, and Centenary was very tough at that time. I remember that it was a close game, and that we ended up beating them by 2 points. We first faced Robert in the 1975 NIT Tipoff Tournament, and we won that game as well. It was ironic playing against him in college and then playing with him later as teammates in Boston.
You are the only player in collegiate history to average more than 20 points and 10 rebounds for an NIT semifinalist one year and an NCAA semifinalist the next season. Were you aware of this?
No, but that’s very interesting to hear – I didn’t realize that I held that distinction.
You were drafted by the Celtics and the team went 32-50 during your rookie season. The next year the team won 29 games and by then you’d played for three coaches – all former Celtic greats. At that point in time did you feel as if the Celtics would ever turn things around?
I’d say it was more a case of shock than anything else. Coming in as a rookie, I joined a team that suffered its first losing record since the 1969-70 season. That year we had established and proven veterans on the team like Dave Cowens, John Havlicek and Jo Jo White, guys who had been there and who had won two NBA championships as Boston Celtics. Charlie Scott was on that ’77-’78 team. Dave Bing. Curtis Rowe. Don Chaney. Sidney Wicks. Kermit Washington was brought in and played 32 games. Ernie DiGregorio played 27. In all we had eight guys who were former All-Stars but the chemistry just wasn’t right.
The next season we added players like Bob McAdoo and Tiny Archibald, but the team continued to struggle. It reached a point of desperation. We were grasping at straws, trying different combinations but not getting the desired results. It was a very difficult period.
Larry Bird joins the team in 1979, and the Celtics complete one of the most remarkable turnarounds in NBA history, winning 61 games and the Atlantic Division title in the process. Tell me about that Celtics team in general, and that Larry Bird – the 1979-80 version – in particular. What made both special?
Larry came in with a chip on his shoulder. There were so many people who questioned him as a basketball player, and who said that he wasn’t going to be great. There were other people labeling him as the ‘White Hope’. Larry was determined to come in and prove these people wrong. He worked hard and he carried that attitude with him all the time. He was very motivated to succeed.
Larry’s arrival meant that my role on the team changed. The previous season I’d averaged 19 points-per-game and was the go-to guy on offense. Larry was suddenly the primary weapon. He played on the opposite side of the basket and I understood the need for me to sacrifice in order to make the team better. I had always been a team player, and I was unselfish when it came to personal statistics and achievements. Those things weren’t really important to me. I wanted to win so I sacrificed scoring and began concentrating on other aspects of my game.
As for that particular Celtics team, I’d have to say that we were the best in terms of the total package. Philly was more athletic, and Los Angeles had more foot speed. I think that was obvious to anyone who followed NBA basketball at the time. But I still think that we were the more complete team of the three.
Bill Fitch was brought in as coach of the ’79-’80 Celtics. That team had some great players on it, players like Bird, Tiny Archibald and Rick Robey. Pete Maravich played 26 games for us – who I absolutely loved – but Pete was at the end of a Hall of Fame career. Our practices were awesome that year, as good as any championship game I’ve been involved in.
In Larry’s autobiography Drive, he has this to say about you: ‘Max was always talking trash…sometimes he’d come into the locker room after an interview and say, “Hey, we’ve got to get serious tonight. I just said something they’re not going to like.”’ It’s my favorite passage in the book because it reveals both the playful and competitive sides of Cedric Maxwell. Do you agree with that assessment?
Yes. I’m a very competitive person, which probably explains why I never picked up golf. If I did play I’d want to be the best and I wouldn’t be satisfied otherwise. Why did I talk trash in certain situations? Because I knew I’d have to back it up. I didn’t want to go out there and look like a fool after saying things to fire up an opponent. It raised the stakes and gave me the edge I needed.
I felt very fortunate to play basketball – at that time, there were a little over 200 players in the NBA and I felt as though I was one of the better players in the league. I wasn’t the biggest or fastest player out there, but I was smart, tenacious and very competitive.
And I wasn’t the only one out there talking trash. Larry was a pretty good talker himself – he was the talker of all talkers [laughs]! We had M.L. Carr…he was always talking trash. Kevin McHale was always talking. So even from that aspect it was a total team effort [laughs]. But you have to remember that these guys could talk and back it up. That’s what made those teams so special.
You’ve never been one to shy away from the big moments. Game 5 of the 1981 NBA Finals and Game 7 of the 1984 Finals jump to mind.
That’s just who I am. Some players step up and embrace those situations and others shy away from them. I’ve never been one to shy away.
Game 7 of the 1984 Finals; Celtics vs. Lakers, Bird vs. Magic. East coast vs. west coast. From a media standpoint it was probably the biggest NBA Finals in league history. Just how big was that game for you?
It was huge. It was the kind of moment I live for, and I knew that I had to step up. Prime time players play big in prime time games – I know that’s become a cliché in this league, but I always looked at myself as that type of player.
Just before that game you told your teammates to jump on your back, that you were going to carry them to the title. Then you went out and played an incredible game. You shut down James Worthy, drew fouls and dominated the boards. What is it about you that lives for these types of situations?
I wish I knew – I also wish I could bottle it up and sell it [laughs]. My mother is a very competitive person, so I think that’s where I got it. Her competitive spirit was passed on to me. I think that helped me rise to the occasion. So my drive – and the ability to elevate my game – comes to me honestly [laughs].
I think my Game 7 performance against the Lakers was so noticeable because I was more laid back than Larry. By that I mean Larry only knew one way to play – he gave 110% all the time. This could occasionally work against him, because when you give 110% there isn’t anything else to give when you need it. He played every moment of every game as if it were his last, and I was more laid back in that respect. I had a little extra to give in that game.
Robert Parish will be inducted into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame this summer. You’re the one responsible for the nickname “Chief”. Please tell me a little about Robert from your perspective, and do you plan on attending his induction ceremony?
I would certainly hope to be there [laughs]. I have a tremendous amount of respect for Robert, and I’m looking forward to his induction into the Hall of Fame. He’s very deserving of the honor, as is Dennis Johnson. In my mind DJ is worthy of inclusion – his accomplishments speak for themselves.
Robert is an extraordinary individual, a unique person who will go down as one of the greatest centers to ever play the game of basketball. He was maligned at Golden State in the ‘70s, but there were a lot of factors responsible for that. He had a bad agent at the time and he was viewed by many as an underachiever. Then Red pulls off the trade with the Warriors, which brought Robert and Kevin to the Celtics. That was one of the greatest trades in the history of sports – or one of the worst, depending on which end you were on [laughs].
Robert was one of the first running centers to come into this league, and certainly one of the first seven-footers to run the court. Dave Cowens was a true running center, but Dave was only 6’-9”. Robert came into the league and showed that players his size could play like thoroughbreds.
When most people think of Robert, they see the quiet, stoic player who didn’t say much and who didn’t change his expression all that often. He was quiet to be sure, but he was also a very confident player who played this game longer than anyone else. His longevity is unbelievable. And he could tell a joke [laughs]. A lot of people don’t realize that about Robert. He was a really funny guy with a very good sense of humor.
I know you’ve been asked this question a million times, but I’ll ask again. How did Robert get his nickname “Chief”?
I pinned that one on him. I saw the Jack Nicholson movie ‘One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ and I instantly thought of Robert as Chief Bromden [laughs]. Bromden was this silent, dignified, towering and huge patient committed to the ward visited by Nicholson’s character.
McMurphy?
That’s right. There’s the classic scene where McMurphy is teaching the Chief ‘that old Indian game’ –basketball on a fenced-in court. And he has that great line, ‘It’s called, uh, put the ball in the hole’ [laughs].
I hear that you are a very good chess player. What parallels can you draw between the game of chess and the game of basketball?
Both games require a tremendous amount of thought to be successful. You have to be able to anticipate your opponent’s moves and put yourself in a position to take advantage of that. For example, you might be guarding a player who makes a move on you earlier in the game. You know that move will be coming again, so you prepare for it. You anticipate what he might do next, and when. Then later in the game you counter his move, maybe cut him off on his way to the basket. You’re able to do this because you’ve studied your opponent and you know what his tendency will be in a certain situation.
I’ve read where you’ve produced Broadway-style plays. You’re also an impeccable dresser with a great sense of style. Please tell me about the creative side of Cedric Maxwell.
That’s just how I grew up. My mother was always playing music, and was always helping us to think creatively. She’s a big reason that I got involved in the entertainment business after I finished playing basketball. I produced some gospel musicals and some off Broadway plays back in the Southeast, which was interesting. I started broadcasting college basketball in Charlotte. It was a natural progression to what I’m doing now.
My fashion sense came from my grandfather and my great-grandfather. I like the oversized jackets and pants, so I decided that I could do the designs myself. I work with a tailor in Asia. I send my ideas to him and he creates my suits. It’s grown to the point where I am doing designs for other people as well.
The North Carolina Sports Hall of Fame is home to one of your NBA Championship rings. Which ring is it – 1981 or 1984 – and how hard was it to part with such a special piece of hardware?
It was the 1984 ring, and it really wasn’t that hard to part with. From a purely practical standpoint it wasn’t hard because I don’t wear jewelry. The championship rings are so large and gaudy that I never felt comfortable with it on. On another level, the ring really wasn’t the most important thing to me. You can always lose a ring, but you can’t lose the championship. It was all about the camaraderie that I shared with my teammates and the thrill of knowing that we were the best in the world. All of those things are greater than the ring.
This fall the Celtics will bestow upon you the highest honor – you will have your number retired to the rafters with all the other great Celtics. What does this honor mean to you?
It’s a wonderful honor, and in many ways the highest that can be bestowed on a player. I’ve given some thought as to what I’ll say at the ceremony. My quote will go something like this: ‘Springfield is home to the basketball hall of fame, but the real hall of fame is right here in Boston’. When you think of all the great players to wear a Celtics uniform – Russell, Cousy, Havlicek and Bird to name a few – to have your number retired with theirs is the ultimate honor.
Much has been made of your differences with Red, and how these may have impacted the decision to have your number retired. You’ve since mended fences and put those differences in the past. Will Red be in attendance at your retirement ceremony?
I would hope so! I would not accept this honor without Red’s blessing. We’re on good terms now. We’ve talked about the way my Celtics career ended, and now I’m looking forward to having my number retired.
Was it a big misunderstanding?
It was more like a father and son issue, both of us stubborn and unwilling to give in. It was explained to me that way – the father never goes and apologizes to the son. I was very bitter about the way I was portrayed, because I have a tremendous amount of integrity. I had played hurt for the Celtics organization on many occasions, and there was never a time that I didn’t play hard and try to help the team win. And then I hurt my knee. I learned then that this was all about business, and that I couldn’t take it personally – it was hard to have my desire and integrity questioned, but I had to accept that part of the business and move on.
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