The Frank Challant Interview
By:
Michael D. McClellan | Wednesday, April 6th 2005
What did the trade for Paul Silas mean in terms of
bringing a championship to the Celtics?
Paul
brought the team anywhere from 12-to-17 rebounds per
game. His presence in the lineup really took a lot of
pressure off of Cowens, so for those two reasons he was
a huge piece of the championship puzzle. Silas was an
amazing player for many reasons. He could play center
and power forward equally well. When he was a youth,
he was playing around with a shotgun when it went off
and took part of the instep on his right foot. He was
lucky he could play basketball at all, much less play it
at the highest level.
Paul
was a very cerebral player, which helped him later as he
began coaching in the NBA. The Celtics had a number of
players like that, which is really what set us apart.
Paul became an NBA head coach, Don Nelson, Don Chaney,
Dave Cowens…talented guys, but bright as well.
During the course of an NBA game, it isn't uncommon for
a player to lose up to ten pounds in water weight.
Silas would lose much more than that, upwards of 24
pounds, so it was vitally important to keep him hydrated
whenever there was a break in the action. Back then
there was no Gatorade. Diets were much different – what
you ate today, you played on tomorrow, so the two things
we focused on was hydration and carb loads. Then, after
the game was over, we'd have a case of soft drinks and
plenty of beer available. It wasn't unusual for a
player to have four cans of beer after game – they were
a source of fluids, salts and carbs.
I’ve heard that, as a coach, Tom Heinsohn once jumped up
so violently from the bench that he split his pants.
Your work at halftime earned you Tommy’s praise as
“Tailor of the Month”. Was this the most unorthodox
tape job you’d ever faced as trainer for the Celtics?
I
don't remember that incident, but I'll take credit for
it [laughs]. I do remember Tom jumping from the bench
and losing his Marlboro cigarettes and his wallet. That
was how intense he was when it came to coaching a
basketball game. He played the game like that – he'd
bring this incredible intensity to the court, and he
would be back to normal afterwards. He tried not to
show it, but a loss would eat him up on the inside.
Tom
is quite an artist. He was always sketching and
painting, and the things he created were unbelievable.
He's very talented with a brush. He was very close to
[Celtics' longtime radio announcer] Johnny Most. Johnny
enjoyed writing poetry, which was also very good, so I
think that there was an artistic bond between them.
They would room together on the road – they were very
good friends.
I have two great photos of you in action – one working
on Dave Cowens’ finger on the bench during a game, and
one taping Don Nelson’s ankle in the locker room.
Please tell me about each of these Celtic legends, and
what it was like to work on them?
Nelson
was – and remains – a very intense student of the game.
He was one of Red's classic acquisitions, picked up off
the waiver wire after the Lakers cut him. Even as a
player, his knowledge of the game was unreal. I can't
say that he had a ton of natural athletic ability – he
couldn't jump, and I say that with complete respect –
but he was so smart that he maximized whatever
basketball talent he had. I remember him having very
tender Achilles tendons, and as a trainer I couldn't
tape his ankles in the normal fashion. He wore adidas
basketball shoes with the backs cut out – that way they
wouldn't rub the tendons. Nelson also used 'stickum',
just like Fred Biletnikoff of the Oakland Raiders. He
kept some on his left wrist and would rub it
on his hands for a better
grip.
Dave was in the league one year before I joined the
team. Whereas Nelson wanted hot water treatment, Dave
wanted ice therapy for many of his aches and pains –
which I agreed with wholeheartedly. But as a trainer
you recognize that people are different, and that you
have to manage their treatments differently in order to
be successful.
Dave was something special – he was a center with a
power forward's body and a small forward's quickness.
And every game was a challenge, because he had to
compete against the likes of Clifford Ray, Nate
Thurmond, Wilt Chamberlain, Wes Unseld, Willis Reed, Lew
Alcindor and Bill Walton. He would become very quiet in
the locker room before a game, and usually didn't say a
word while I taped him up. He would get so psyched up,
and have all of this nervous energy – he would get this
look in his eyes, and everyone on the team knew not to
interact with him at that point. Before games he would
take two or three towels, bundle them up, and then lay
on the floor and meditate. Nobody messed with Dave
before game [laughs]. After the game he was Dave again,
but his ribs would be raw from all of the elbows that
had been thrown. I got to see it firsthand, and I don't
know how he took all of that punishment.
I learned a lot about diet from Dave – he was into the
organic stuff way before it became fashionable. He also
taught me a lot about financial management – when we
were on the plane, we would sit together and talk about
smart ways to invest money. The other players would be
playing cards while we were figuring out ways to make it
rich [laughs].
You were the Celtics’ trainer from the 1971-72 season
through the 1978-79 season. Of all the players you
worked on, which ones had the highest threshold for
pain?
I
always admired the players with the greatest amount of
intestinal fortitude. Nelson had it. Havlicek.
[Satch] Sanders – he had terrible ankles. Cowens.
White. Steve Kuberski was another one who could play
through pain. I remember the playoff series against
Cleveland, and Kuberski suffered an open fracture of the
ring finger on his shooting hand. He refused to let the
injury keep him from playing. I remember Freddie
Saunders suffering from migraines – he'd lay in a dark
room for fifteen-to-twenty minutes trying to relax, so
that he could go out and compete. Unless you've had
migraines, you don't realize just how debilitating they
can be.
Take me back to the 1974 NBA Finals against the
Milwaukee Bucks. What stands out in your mind after all
of these years?
I
remember it like it was yesterday. John Killilea was
Tommy's assistant coach at the time – he came out of the
Boston metro area, where he had been a high school
coach. Killilea was a defensive mastermind. His
schemes helped put the clamps on Buffalo and New York,
and helped us battle Lew Alcindor and the Bucks. The
idea was to double up on Bob Dandridge, and to also make
the Bucks work to get the ball up the court. Don Chaney
had the responsibility of doing that – he guarded Oscar
Robertson tightly from the moment the ball was inbounded
until it came across midcourt.
I
remember the Bucks' Jon McGlocklin tearing his Achilles
in Game 4. Bill Bates, the Bucks' trainer, did a great
job of taping it up and keeping in the series. We were
up 3-2 when Kareem hit that hook shot from the corner,
sending the series back to Milwaukee for Game 7. We
flew to Milwaukee totally relaxed – we knew that the
Bucks were spent, that they had given everything they
had to win Game 6. Our guys were in great shape. They
couldn't wait to play that deciding game.
You've mentioned that, during the 1976 NBA Playoffs,
John Havlicek suffered a torn plantar fascia. Please
tell me about that injury, and the turquoise dishpan
that Havlicek used to help deal with the pain?
I
had to carry that damned pan [laughs]. John had the
tear, and the only way to treat it was to get it numb.
Tom Silva was the team doctor at the time, and he was
very conservative when it came to injuries. He
considered the players as patients first, and as players
second. The owners couldn't sway him. The coaches
couldn't sway him. If he didn’t' think a player was
ready to go out on the court, there was no way he was
going to release him. So John and I worked on the
injury together and tried to downplay it as much as
possible. We would ice it down until it was numb,
usually an hour before the game, then we'd ice it for
twenty minutes during halftime. Then we'd do it again
after the game. With that type of injury, ice therapy
is the only effective treatment – other than rest.
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