Dave Cowens: Museum Curator

In 1982-83, Cowens came out of a two-year retirement to play for former teammate and then-Bucks coach Don Nelson in Milwaukee. During that time, Cowens became increasingly absorbed in development of the New England Sports Museum. He had signed on as a trustee of the nonprofit corporation in 1978, but now, with the project lacking money, Cowens shouldered more responsibility.

He talked with Johnson one night about the importance of sports history and memorabilia to the New England landscape, and he agreed to write out what Johnson called "a very generous" check. Johnson could sense Cowens' passion, the fervor with which he confronted the challenge -- the same determination that it took to play center.

Cowens quickly rose through the ranks at the museum and in 1984 was named chairman.

"For 10 years, in his typical dogged and determined way, he pursued this," says Johnson, the museum's curator. "Dave helped us chart our course. He was there every step of the way. He is likely to come in, answer the phones and vacuum the carpets, and then go out and close a deal with a major sponsor.

"I compare him," Johnson adds, "to the character in `Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.' Dave was Jefferson Smith in high-tops. That's about as high praise as I can bestow on someone."

Alas, Cowens did not enjoy a fulfilling political career like the principled U.S. senator in that Frank Capra classic. Cowens' push for public office did not even last as long as an average senatorial filibuster.

Cowens launched a campaign for Massachusetts secretary of state in January 1990. Having entered the race too late to get on the Republican ballot, Cowens faced a daunting task that even his name recognition could not overcome. He bowed out a month later -- much to the relief of his wife, Deby.

"In politics the husband and wife really have to be a team, and I just didn't want to be a part of it," says Deby, a nutrition specialist with a background in holistic healing. "That was the one time I didn't fully support what he was doing. The thing about David is, he's not afraid to try something. Sometimes people think about doing something and they don't get around to it. Well, he gets around to it. I wouldn't call him zany, but he goes with his gut. He has a drum in his head, and sometimes it doesn't match other people's drums."

Deby liked the beat. Cowens' diverse nature attracted her because she shared his zest to experiment. Deby says she never envisioned herself being with a mate for so long because, "I never thought I would be married for 22 years and still like the person.

"David has always been a down- to-earth guy and he is a great father (for daughters Samantha, 17, and Meghan, 20)," Deby says. "He is serious about what he does, but he never takes himself too seriously. I loved that about him: He never got all caught up in himself."

With all of his other interests, Cowens had little time to get caught up in himself. He filmed a few beer commercials. He toiled on a farm in Kentucky one summer. He did charitable work. He lobbied the Massachusetts government to block a company, Codex, from seizing control of a cherished piece of land he wanted for a horse farm -- a nine-year crusade he lost.

He guided the Bay State Bombardiers of the Continental Basketball Association for one season, in 1984-85, matching wits with Albany Patroons head man and current Los Angeles Lakers coach Phil Jackson.

He moved back to the NBA a decade later, spending two years as an assistant coach with San Antonio. He left the Spurs and led the Charlotte Hornets to consecutive 50-win seasons, then resigned 15 games into his third season over a contract dispute with the team's notoriously frugal owner, George Shinn.

And, in perhaps the activity that engenders the most pride, he annually oversees a thriving summer basketball camp that just completed its 28th year.

"Dave gives 150 percent in everything he does," Heinsohn says.

"That means he gives 150 percent quite often."

The one thing bigger than his 150 percent effort is an outsized portfolio. He receives phone calls from strangers who, aware of Cowens' reputation for being civic-minded and socially conscious, pitch projects for his backing. Cowens is still the center, with all the action funneling in his direction.

"I would listen to most anything from anybody," Cowens says. "I believe most people have a sense of fair play and honesty. To not listen would be a mistake. That way, you don't broaden yourself. I don't want to get stuck in the mud much, thinking I'm the only one who knows anything about anything.

"I listened to people (in the stands) while I was playing. You're on a break, waiting for a free throw and you hear people yelling.

Sometimes it's helpful, sometimes it's true, sometimes it's a reality check. You can miss out if you close down."