1981-82 Boston Celtics
The actual welcome came in the form of an elbow. The elbow was part of an arm that was part of a body. The body was 6 feet 10 and weighed 220 pounds and belonged to a 29-year-old man named Len Elmore.
Len Elmore stuck out his elbow. The elbow found Danny Ainge's face. Hello? Hello. This is the National Basketball Assocation.
Nice to meet you.
Where ya bin, anyway?
"First time down the floor," Danny Ainge said last night after the standing ovations were finished, after the Celtics had dropped the New York Nets, 109-100, and after he had made his semi-heralded pro basketball debut at the Garden. "Elmore got me good. I never saw it. I was chasing my man through a pick and there was Elmore."
There are, perhaps, other and more dramatic ways to come into the NBA - step off the bench to fire in a 20-footer to win the game as the people just fall out, all around the court - but there are no more representative ways. Hello? Hello. The forest of tall men welcomes its newest inhabitants best by clunking them off the noggin with an idle limb.
"Did he get you again?" Danny Ainge was asked.
"Uh-uh," the rookie replied. "I was, uh, watching for it after that. You remember when you get hit in the face."
Let it be said that after all of the protracted negotiations, the days in court and the money wrangles and all the rest, the 22-year-old's list of NBA firsts happened in a hurry on this otherwise nondescript, normal NBA Wednesday night. Starting with a morning practice when he was told to return to the Garden at night, "maybe" to dress, and ending with 10 minutes on the court and two points on the stat sheet, an assortment of dominoes fell into place for Danny Ainge.
First, the Celtics answered the long-running question of who would go and who would stay as Ainge joined the roster. Terry Duerod would stay. Rookie Tracy Jackson was sold to the Chicago Bulls. That piece of business was wrapped up quickly.
"Good to get it done," forward Larry Bird said, speaking the general Celtics' opinion. "Get it over with. The way it's been has been tough on everyone. You practice with a guy in the morning, then he isn't there at night. That's a tough situation. Get it over with. Get the next one over with (one more player has to be moved before injured forward M.L. Carr returns.) Let's get our team together and play basketball."
The next open door for Ainge came when guard Tiny Archibald booked off sick with the flu. Ainge not only would dress, he would play. There were minutes available.
"About 5 o'clock I learned everything," Ainge said. "Nobody had even given me a scouting report. So I didn't think I was going to play."
His entry into the game came with 1:47 left in the first half, the Celtics ahead, 55-48. There was the obligatory standing ovation from the obligatory sellout crowd. Mr. Elmore's welcome-wagon elbow came a few seconds later as Ainge tried to stay with fleet Nets guard Otis Birdsong, waltzing through the middle of the forest.
Ainge touched the ball just once before the half ended, passing it back. He was called for one foul, trying to pick up the charging call, but called for the block. He followed Birdsong to the deep corner just before the half ended. Birdsong canned a long jumper.
Hello? Hello.
"I'd been watching him (Birdsong) before I came in," Ainge said. "But I was learning about him as we played."
His second entry into the game came at the start of the fourth quarter. The Celtics were ahead, 92-79, by now and cruising. This was his time to get all the firsts out of the way.
First time burned - he lost his man on a back-door play, easy layup. First shot - he missed a reverse layup in traffic. First three-point shot - the clock was running down and heaved from the top of the circle and missed. First rebound - he rebounded the three-point shot. First steal - he slapped the ball away from Elmore and freed Cedric Maxwell for a fast break. First time hooted - he tried a cross-court pass and was intercepted by Birdsong for the easy basket.
"Come on," a loud voice, coming from a bettor behind the Celtics bench, shouted as the Celts called timeout. "Get Ainge out of there."
First basket? Let it be said that it was a pull-up jumper with 4:08 left, Ainge on the break. Another standing ovation.
"Do you think you'll always remember that?" the rookie was asked.
"Gee, I hope not," he replied. "I hope there's a lot of other baskets to remember. Baskets to win games at the last second. Baskets that are important."
A host of felt-tip pens scribbled all this down. A half-dozen microphones captured it whole. There has been an uncommon brouhaha about this kid's arrival and his first this and first that, but let it be said that all that now was finished.
As the night ended Danny Ainge sat in a locker stall between Bird and Rick Robey's lockers. In the morning, after practice, that same stall belonged to Tracy Jackson. Now the nameplate on the top read "44 Ainge."
Hello? Hello.
This was the National Basketball Assn. The kid was another resident of the forest now.
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