2008
John Havlicek presents the Eastern Conference Championship Trophy to Wyc Grousbeck.
John Havlicek wore #17.
Celtics go on to win banner 17.
2010
Dave Cowens presents the Eastern Conference Championship Trophy to Wyc Grousbeck.
Dave Cowens wore #18.
Celtics now pursue banner 18.
See a pattern here?
How clever.
Showing posts with label John Havlicek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Havlicek. Show all posts
5.29.2010
8.17.2009
8.15.2009
Hondo Retires
April 10, 1978
SI
The images linger, freeze-frames from a grainy newsreel. There are the crew cut and the big ears and the goofy half-moon smile in the team picture. There are the amazing last-second shots which seemed at the time to have been launched in panic but which New Englanders have come to identify as merely "runnahs." There is the dramatic steal in 1965 against Philadelphia that won a playoff series and set off a mob scene and the unbelievable basket against Phoenix that saved a championship and provoked another riotous celebration fully 11 years later. Always there has been the running from baseline to baseline...click...the running...click, click. Now, at the end, still the running...click. This Sunday afternoon—for the first and last time—John Havlicek will stop running. After more than 30,000 points and 9,000 rebounds and nearly 7,000 assists, not to mention eight championships and two months of farewell festivities throughout the land, Havlicek will show up for his final game down there on the shining parquet floor of the Boston Garden. If he doesn't slip while wading through the tears, he may even get to play in it. That accomplished, it would be Havlicek's 1,441st game (including playoffs, for those without a program), which in turn would be more games in the NBA than anybody else, flesh and blood or bionic, ever played.
Because of this, Buffalo at Boston April 9 will be a media event: old Celtics, political personages, presidential messages, Jimmy the Greek and the like. But one hopes John Havlicek's last game will be much more than that, too.
For those who may have nodded off through much of the past two decades and missed Vietnam, Watergate and Mary Tyler Moore, not to mention the changing face of U.S. sport, John Havlicek survives as one of the few remaining links to American pop culture past. Not only for the way he played the games—flat out, at both ends, in two different positions, his versatility making him perhaps the finest player in the history of the NBA—but also for the type of man he is, Havlicek's retirement is a watershed on our domestic sports calendar.
Recently certain critics have rudely knifed through Havlicek's career-long diplomatic immunity to question the propriety of his personally orchestrated final trek through the league wherein at every stop he has been accorded hosannas and rewarded with enough appliances to fill backstage at The Price Is Right . One man went so far as to remark that attracting a full house by the presentation of an oversized soft pretzel trophy, Tastykakes and a 10-pound salami—a few of the 76ers' chosen gifts—was not exactly a fitting monument to Havlicek.
Even Celtic Center Dave Cowens had to laugh at his teammate's shrewdness. "The man mentions he likes motorboating and immediately a motor is produced in Seattle," Cowens said. " Chicago will probably come up with the boat."
And yet, how is a legend supposed to pass from the scene? Obviously Havlicek wished to avoid copying the tardy, tawdry leave-takings of some of the other heroes of his era: Elgin Baylor benched, Oscar Robertson unwanted. Even Jerry West, who, unlike the above, recognized full well when his time was up, marked the occasion by abruptly walking out of a Laker preseason camp, leaving his team high and dry and, maybe even more unforgivable, denying his legion of admirers one final look, one clap, one tear.
And yet, perhaps more than any of the stars, more than anybody, period, Havlicek has always related to the masses, and they to him.
In the enigmatic social strata of the NBA, Havlicek's race certainly is a factor. But so is his unique game—a relentless all-court activity based on intellect and hustle and execution. Clich� though it may be, Havlicek is the quintessential throwback to the old days, to the pre-trillionaire days, to the days when players cared about such trivial items as pride, teamwork and the difference between winning and losing.
Though he vehemently denies that the radical change in Celtic personnel over the past year and a half and the subsequent collapse of the once prideful team has anything to do with his decision to quit, one wonders. How really invigorating could it have been for Havlicek to continue playing alongside the likes of Sidney Wicks and Curtis Rowe, who once emerged from the shower after a humiliating 30-point defeat to announce, "What's everybody upset about? The W's and L's don't show up on the paychecks."
No, whatever he says, there was no way Havlicek could have risked his soul any longer in such an environment.
Another Celtic teammate, Kermit Washington, says this: "A lot of people have trouble identifying with the great talents like Dr. J and Kareem and the rest. But they know and love Havlicek because John wasn't born the best. He had to depend on hustle and determination and guts to get through all those years and win all those games. Fans relate to that."
Bob Cousy, risking sacrilege, remembers Havlicek when he came out of Ohio State and joined the Celtics for the 1962-63 season as a "non-shooter who would probably burn himself out." But Havlicek taught himself to shoot the next summer. Of course, this week, just like the Cooz said, Havlicek will burn himself out. Specifically, along about Saturday—when he becomes 38 years old.
Ironically, it was also Cousy who inspired Havlicek's cross-country retirement proceedings. No. 17's first season back there in the '60s was No. 14's last, and Havlicek always was to remember the road trips during which Cousy was honored on his final tour around what was then a nine-team NBA. "I was impressed with the positivity of the end," Havlicek said last week. "I wanted something like that. Of course it is a gate hype. But the NBA has been great to me. It set me up for life. The fans are responsible, and the franchises, too. If I can help out and get some more people in the buildings, I'm happy to do it."
Just a sampling of the encomiums that keep pouring in from his peers manifests how special an athlete Havlicek is (this confounded machine refuses to print "was").
Phoenix' Paul Westphal: "John is the one guy in the NBA who has never made a mistake."
Golden State's Rick Barry: "Havlicek is the only true superstar."
Detroit's Bob Lanier: "He's apple pie, hot dogs and all that stuff. His greatest contribution is as a model for our kids."
Los Angeles' Jerry West: "The guy is the ambassador of our sport. John always gave his very best every night and had time for everybody—teammates, fans, the press. He is simply the ideal everybody expects an athlete to be."
If you or anybody in your neighborhood has ever heard or read anything bad about Havlicek, you are urged to report whoever is spreading the infamy to police headquarters immediately. Aside from some major philosophical differences with his former teammate and coach, Tom Heinsohn—stemming from Heinsohn's letting Havlicek's close friend and Ohio State teammate, Larry Siegfried, go in the expansion draft of 1970—there is no record of Havlicek uttering a harsh word on any subject.
"The man has lived an extremely clean life," says his onetime roommate and present coach, Satch Sanders. "He has remained untouched by the broadening experiences of the world."
Havlicek's famous public moniker, "Hondo," was inspired by the John Wayne movie, but for years his teammates have called him Czech after the last syllable of his name. And when they make fun of him, it is usually about his fastidiousness in the locker room, where Czech places each piece of clothing on a separate hook, lines up his toiletries on the shelf according to height and folds his uniform square to the corners. "Czech's the only man in the NBA who keeps his socks on a hanger," says Celtic Trainer Frank Challant.
"That's not so funny," says Havlicek. "I'm a man of routine and discipline. My socks have to dry out. My whole life has been thought out."
And so, then, the end of his basketball career.
Havlicek wanted to reveal his intentions during the first week of the season, but when the Celtics got off to their horrid start General Manager Red Auerbach persuaded him to hold off.
Slowed by a preseason appendectomy and playing less than usual, Havlicek averaged only 12 points in his first 20 games. As the season disintegrated, with Jo Jo White being shelved with injuries, Charlie Scott being traded and Heinsohn being replaced by Sanders, Havlicek began to be counted on more and more, as in bygone times. He responded by averaging 16 points and 34 minutes a game, second only to Cowens on the club. In March, during one stretch of four games in consecutive days, Havlicek scored 20, 32, 25 and 27 points. Performances like that silenced doubts about his future usefulness, but Havlicek never looked back.
When he announced his retirement on Jan. 29, Havlicek mentioned that as he traveled the league for the last time he wanted to take "a little piece of every building and capture the memories." But in the first couple of cities he tried out his Sarah Bernhardt tour he was nervous and uneasy during the ceremonies, halting in the midst of his valedictory speeches. "I don't take compliments well," he said.
By last week, however, Havlicek had heard and said the same things so many times that the act had become studied. The Celtics were even dozing through it.
Before Boston defeated the crippled Portland Trail Blazers 104-92 on Tuesday in his final appearance in the Northwest, Havlicek was given a prolonged standing ovation during which even the champion Blazers stood up and applauded and saluted him as he turned round and round, waving to the crowd. Still, he was apparently unmoved. Moreover, in Denver the next night, though the sellout crowd was again loud and effusive, the honored guest's remarks were dull, flat, strained—even as wife Beth showed up glowing in a blue suit and enormous corsage.
"The captain's going stale with this thing," said Cowens.
"John's never been emotional," said Beth. "I say, 'Wow, look at that sunset,' and if he says, 'Yes, it's nice,' that means it's a fabulous sunset. He's not one to get lumps in the throat. He's not one to cry."
Somebody should have cried about the way the Celtics blew a five-point lead in the last 59 seconds to lose to the Nuggets 109-106. Havlicek was stripped of the ball by David Thompson and had an Alley Oop pass to Cowens deflected by Dan Issel, both in the last minute.
The fact that the once proud and machinelike Celtics had to resort to such a gimmick maneuver in a crisis was evidence enough how far the-team has fallen, but that was just a synopsis of the entire season. The Boston T party (T for Treason) continued unabated Friday night back home when San Antonio wiped out a 17-point deficit to beat the Celtics 120-117 after George Gervin blocked Havlicek's game-tying attempt with 31 seconds left. And then on Sunday, the final ignominy: Boston lost to Indiana 123-120, and was thereby eliminated from the playoffs for the first time since 1971.
Maybe it was just as well that the locals were now relieved of worrying about such mundane matters as the playoffs and could gird themselves for " John Havlicek Weekend."
Cowens was asked if he felt sentimental. "I don't think it's sentiment," he said. "The way I figure, John's never had a definite profile like Bill Russell or Cousy. He's played all these games without being recognized, and now everybody is apologizing for it. You tell me how many class guys there are like him anywhere. They ought to retire his number from the whole NBA. Just take 17 and stash it up there in lights."
Havlicek had two away games left—a quickie trip to Chicago and one to Providence—before coming home to close out the season. He had received his praise and prizes everywhere else with casual grace and practiced coolness. Surely. Boston would be different: three games of celebration, two nights and a final afternoon of melancholy and Auld Lang Syne. How could even this bravest of runners outrun his feelings?
"I'm not thinking about it," Havlicek said. "I want this thing to be upbeat, positive, unemotional. I have soft spots, but I don't think they'll come out on Sunday."
Nonetheless, a precedent had been set. Several weeks ago the Havlicek family sat at home watching a TV special in which the man of the house was all over the screen doing wonderful things with the basketball, the song Nobody Does It Better was on the soundtrack and a voice was saying that all of this would come to an end on April 9.
Beth Havlicek had already started to shake when 7-year-old Chris could take it no longer and ran upstairs weeping. When John reached the boy, Chris had all the pictures of his old man and himself in their Celtic uniforms spread out on the bedroom floor. "Chris just cried and cried," said his father. "I was really touched."
This weekend in Boston there will be a few more tears, and No. 17 will be touched again.
What that means, John Havlicek, is that you have had a fabulous sunset.
SI
The images linger, freeze-frames from a grainy newsreel. There are the crew cut and the big ears and the goofy half-moon smile in the team picture. There are the amazing last-second shots which seemed at the time to have been launched in panic but which New Englanders have come to identify as merely "runnahs." There is the dramatic steal in 1965 against Philadelphia that won a playoff series and set off a mob scene and the unbelievable basket against Phoenix that saved a championship and provoked another riotous celebration fully 11 years later. Always there has been the running from baseline to baseline...click...the running...click, click. Now, at the end, still the running...click. This Sunday afternoon—for the first and last time—John Havlicek will stop running. After more than 30,000 points and 9,000 rebounds and nearly 7,000 assists, not to mention eight championships and two months of farewell festivities throughout the land, Havlicek will show up for his final game down there on the shining parquet floor of the Boston Garden. If he doesn't slip while wading through the tears, he may even get to play in it. That accomplished, it would be Havlicek's 1,441st game (including playoffs, for those without a program), which in turn would be more games in the NBA than anybody else, flesh and blood or bionic, ever played.
Because of this, Buffalo at Boston April 9 will be a media event: old Celtics, political personages, presidential messages, Jimmy the Greek and the like. But one hopes John Havlicek's last game will be much more than that, too.
For those who may have nodded off through much of the past two decades and missed Vietnam, Watergate and Mary Tyler Moore, not to mention the changing face of U.S. sport, John Havlicek survives as one of the few remaining links to American pop culture past. Not only for the way he played the games—flat out, at both ends, in two different positions, his versatility making him perhaps the finest player in the history of the NBA—but also for the type of man he is, Havlicek's retirement is a watershed on our domestic sports calendar.
Recently certain critics have rudely knifed through Havlicek's career-long diplomatic immunity to question the propriety of his personally orchestrated final trek through the league wherein at every stop he has been accorded hosannas and rewarded with enough appliances to fill backstage at The Price Is Right . One man went so far as to remark that attracting a full house by the presentation of an oversized soft pretzel trophy, Tastykakes and a 10-pound salami—a few of the 76ers' chosen gifts—was not exactly a fitting monument to Havlicek.
Even Celtic Center Dave Cowens had to laugh at his teammate's shrewdness. "The man mentions he likes motorboating and immediately a motor is produced in Seattle," Cowens said. " Chicago will probably come up with the boat."
And yet, how is a legend supposed to pass from the scene? Obviously Havlicek wished to avoid copying the tardy, tawdry leave-takings of some of the other heroes of his era: Elgin Baylor benched, Oscar Robertson unwanted. Even Jerry West, who, unlike the above, recognized full well when his time was up, marked the occasion by abruptly walking out of a Laker preseason camp, leaving his team high and dry and, maybe even more unforgivable, denying his legion of admirers one final look, one clap, one tear.
And yet, perhaps more than any of the stars, more than anybody, period, Havlicek has always related to the masses, and they to him.
In the enigmatic social strata of the NBA, Havlicek's race certainly is a factor. But so is his unique game—a relentless all-court activity based on intellect and hustle and execution. Clich� though it may be, Havlicek is the quintessential throwback to the old days, to the pre-trillionaire days, to the days when players cared about such trivial items as pride, teamwork and the difference between winning and losing.
Though he vehemently denies that the radical change in Celtic personnel over the past year and a half and the subsequent collapse of the once prideful team has anything to do with his decision to quit, one wonders. How really invigorating could it have been for Havlicek to continue playing alongside the likes of Sidney Wicks and Curtis Rowe, who once emerged from the shower after a humiliating 30-point defeat to announce, "What's everybody upset about? The W's and L's don't show up on the paychecks."
No, whatever he says, there was no way Havlicek could have risked his soul any longer in such an environment.
Another Celtic teammate, Kermit Washington, says this: "A lot of people have trouble identifying with the great talents like Dr. J and Kareem and the rest. But they know and love Havlicek because John wasn't born the best. He had to depend on hustle and determination and guts to get through all those years and win all those games. Fans relate to that."
Bob Cousy, risking sacrilege, remembers Havlicek when he came out of Ohio State and joined the Celtics for the 1962-63 season as a "non-shooter who would probably burn himself out." But Havlicek taught himself to shoot the next summer. Of course, this week, just like the Cooz said, Havlicek will burn himself out. Specifically, along about Saturday—when he becomes 38 years old.
Ironically, it was also Cousy who inspired Havlicek's cross-country retirement proceedings. No. 17's first season back there in the '60s was No. 14's last, and Havlicek always was to remember the road trips during which Cousy was honored on his final tour around what was then a nine-team NBA. "I was impressed with the positivity of the end," Havlicek said last week. "I wanted something like that. Of course it is a gate hype. But the NBA has been great to me. It set me up for life. The fans are responsible, and the franchises, too. If I can help out and get some more people in the buildings, I'm happy to do it."
Just a sampling of the encomiums that keep pouring in from his peers manifests how special an athlete Havlicek is (this confounded machine refuses to print "was").
Phoenix' Paul Westphal: "John is the one guy in the NBA who has never made a mistake."
Golden State's Rick Barry: "Havlicek is the only true superstar."
Detroit's Bob Lanier: "He's apple pie, hot dogs and all that stuff. His greatest contribution is as a model for our kids."
Los Angeles' Jerry West: "The guy is the ambassador of our sport. John always gave his very best every night and had time for everybody—teammates, fans, the press. He is simply the ideal everybody expects an athlete to be."
If you or anybody in your neighborhood has ever heard or read anything bad about Havlicek, you are urged to report whoever is spreading the infamy to police headquarters immediately. Aside from some major philosophical differences with his former teammate and coach, Tom Heinsohn—stemming from Heinsohn's letting Havlicek's close friend and Ohio State teammate, Larry Siegfried, go in the expansion draft of 1970—there is no record of Havlicek uttering a harsh word on any subject.
"The man has lived an extremely clean life," says his onetime roommate and present coach, Satch Sanders. "He has remained untouched by the broadening experiences of the world."
Havlicek's famous public moniker, "Hondo," was inspired by the John Wayne movie, but for years his teammates have called him Czech after the last syllable of his name. And when they make fun of him, it is usually about his fastidiousness in the locker room, where Czech places each piece of clothing on a separate hook, lines up his toiletries on the shelf according to height and folds his uniform square to the corners. "Czech's the only man in the NBA who keeps his socks on a hanger," says Celtic Trainer Frank Challant.
"That's not so funny," says Havlicek. "I'm a man of routine and discipline. My socks have to dry out. My whole life has been thought out."
And so, then, the end of his basketball career.
Havlicek wanted to reveal his intentions during the first week of the season, but when the Celtics got off to their horrid start General Manager Red Auerbach persuaded him to hold off.
Slowed by a preseason appendectomy and playing less than usual, Havlicek averaged only 12 points in his first 20 games. As the season disintegrated, with Jo Jo White being shelved with injuries, Charlie Scott being traded and Heinsohn being replaced by Sanders, Havlicek began to be counted on more and more, as in bygone times. He responded by averaging 16 points and 34 minutes a game, second only to Cowens on the club. In March, during one stretch of four games in consecutive days, Havlicek scored 20, 32, 25 and 27 points. Performances like that silenced doubts about his future usefulness, but Havlicek never looked back.
When he announced his retirement on Jan. 29, Havlicek mentioned that as he traveled the league for the last time he wanted to take "a little piece of every building and capture the memories." But in the first couple of cities he tried out his Sarah Bernhardt tour he was nervous and uneasy during the ceremonies, halting in the midst of his valedictory speeches. "I don't take compliments well," he said.
By last week, however, Havlicek had heard and said the same things so many times that the act had become studied. The Celtics were even dozing through it.
Before Boston defeated the crippled Portland Trail Blazers 104-92 on Tuesday in his final appearance in the Northwest, Havlicek was given a prolonged standing ovation during which even the champion Blazers stood up and applauded and saluted him as he turned round and round, waving to the crowd. Still, he was apparently unmoved. Moreover, in Denver the next night, though the sellout crowd was again loud and effusive, the honored guest's remarks were dull, flat, strained—even as wife Beth showed up glowing in a blue suit and enormous corsage.
"The captain's going stale with this thing," said Cowens.
"John's never been emotional," said Beth. "I say, 'Wow, look at that sunset,' and if he says, 'Yes, it's nice,' that means it's a fabulous sunset. He's not one to get lumps in the throat. He's not one to cry."
Somebody should have cried about the way the Celtics blew a five-point lead in the last 59 seconds to lose to the Nuggets 109-106. Havlicek was stripped of the ball by David Thompson and had an Alley Oop pass to Cowens deflected by Dan Issel, both in the last minute.
The fact that the once proud and machinelike Celtics had to resort to such a gimmick maneuver in a crisis was evidence enough how far the-team has fallen, but that was just a synopsis of the entire season. The Boston T party (T for Treason) continued unabated Friday night back home when San Antonio wiped out a 17-point deficit to beat the Celtics 120-117 after George Gervin blocked Havlicek's game-tying attempt with 31 seconds left. And then on Sunday, the final ignominy: Boston lost to Indiana 123-120, and was thereby eliminated from the playoffs for the first time since 1971.
Maybe it was just as well that the locals were now relieved of worrying about such mundane matters as the playoffs and could gird themselves for " John Havlicek Weekend."
Cowens was asked if he felt sentimental. "I don't think it's sentiment," he said. "The way I figure, John's never had a definite profile like Bill Russell or Cousy. He's played all these games without being recognized, and now everybody is apologizing for it. You tell me how many class guys there are like him anywhere. They ought to retire his number from the whole NBA. Just take 17 and stash it up there in lights."
Havlicek had two away games left—a quickie trip to Chicago and one to Providence—before coming home to close out the season. He had received his praise and prizes everywhere else with casual grace and practiced coolness. Surely. Boston would be different: three games of celebration, two nights and a final afternoon of melancholy and Auld Lang Syne. How could even this bravest of runners outrun his feelings?
"I'm not thinking about it," Havlicek said. "I want this thing to be upbeat, positive, unemotional. I have soft spots, but I don't think they'll come out on Sunday."
Nonetheless, a precedent had been set. Several weeks ago the Havlicek family sat at home watching a TV special in which the man of the house was all over the screen doing wonderful things with the basketball, the song Nobody Does It Better was on the soundtrack and a voice was saying that all of this would come to an end on April 9.
Beth Havlicek had already started to shake when 7-year-old Chris could take it no longer and ran upstairs weeping. When John reached the boy, Chris had all the pictures of his old man and himself in their Celtic uniforms spread out on the bedroom floor. "Chris just cried and cried," said his father. "I was really touched."
This weekend in Boston there will be a few more tears, and No. 17 will be touched again.
What that means, John Havlicek, is that you have had a fabulous sunset.
8.13.2009
11.07.2008
Hondo just another face in the Crowd to Antoine
Antoine Walker's Rookie Campaign
12/13/96
By this time next week, the debates will be renewed. You thought the NBA's Top 50 players list caused some controversy? How about a list that recognizes the top 10 all-time teams and coaches?
Those lists should be announced next week. And before the conjecture starts, John Havlicek would like you to know which Celtics championship team from the 1960s should be singled out as the best: '62-63.
"That team had the most depth and had great, great players," said Havlicek, a visitor at yesterday's practice. "Just look at all the guys on the team who were part of NCAA champions. There was myself, Bill Russell, K.C. (Jones), (Bob) Cousy, Clyde (Lovellette). That's five guys who won championships in college. That in itself is an accomplishment."
He stole what?
Before leaving practice, Havlicek spotted rookie Antoine Walker. Walker was friendly, but he walked by Havlicek and M.L. Carr as if he didn't recognize the Hall of Famer.
"I bet he doesn't know who you are," Carr said. "Hey, Antoine . . . "
Walker returned.
"Do you know who this is?" Carr asked.
The rookie shook his head.
"This is John Havlicek."
Walker smiled and the two shook hands. A few minutes later, Eric Williams walked by, smiled and said, "Havlicek stole the ball!"
12/13/96
By this time next week, the debates will be renewed. You thought the NBA's Top 50 players list caused some controversy? How about a list that recognizes the top 10 all-time teams and coaches?
Those lists should be announced next week. And before the conjecture starts, John Havlicek would like you to know which Celtics championship team from the 1960s should be singled out as the best: '62-63.
"That team had the most depth and had great, great players," said Havlicek, a visitor at yesterday's practice. "Just look at all the guys on the team who were part of NCAA champions. There was myself, Bill Russell, K.C. (Jones), (Bob) Cousy, Clyde (Lovellette). That's five guys who won championships in college. That in itself is an accomplishment."
He stole what?
Before leaving practice, Havlicek spotted rookie Antoine Walker. Walker was friendly, but he walked by Havlicek and M.L. Carr as if he didn't recognize the Hall of Famer.
"I bet he doesn't know who you are," Carr said. "Hey, Antoine . . . "
Walker returned.
"Do you know who this is?" Carr asked.
The rookie shook his head.
"This is John Havlicek."
Walker smiled and the two shook hands. A few minutes later, Eric Williams walked by, smiled and said, "Havlicek stole the ball!"
9.08.2008
Red Auerbach: The Esquire Interview (entire interview)
Auerbach would select Michael Jordan, Bill Russell, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Wilt Chamberlain to be on his all-star NBA team. He would not choose Dennis Rodman or Bill Walton. Auerbach evaluates several of the top basketball players in history.
The old man has done it all. Seen it all. All you have to do is ask him.
"Ask me anything that happened in this league," Red Auerbach growls. "Fifty years ago, forty years ago, thirty--I remember it all. Just don't ask me what I had for breakfast."
The old man has done it all. Seen it all. All you have to do is ask him.
"Ask me anything that happened in this league," Red Auerbach growls. "Fifty years ago, forty years ago, thirty--I remember it all. Just don't ask me what I had for breakfast."
8.13.2008
Red Auerbach: The Harvard Business Review Interview
Part 9
HBR: When you are thinking of making a trade or acquiring a new player, do you consult the players?
AUERBACH: Sometimes, sure. Our players are quite intelligent and they want the Celtics to be as good as possible. So I'd talk to a Cousy, a Havlicek, or Russell, or Bird and say, "Hey, we've got a chance to get so and so. What do you think?" Why not ask them? I've never had the ego to think that I know it all.
The coaching staff is also involved in every decision. I would never take it upon myself to force any player down the coach's throat. Because if I give a player to the coach and the coach doesn't want him, he'll resent it and the production of the whole team will suffer.
HBR: When you are thinking of making a trade or acquiring a new player, do you consult the players?
AUERBACH: Sometimes, sure. Our players are quite intelligent and they want the Celtics to be as good as possible. So I'd talk to a Cousy, a Havlicek, or Russell, or Bird and say, "Hey, we've got a chance to get so and so. What do you think?" Why not ask them? I've never had the ego to think that I know it all.
The coaching staff is also involved in every decision. I would never take it upon myself to force any player down the coach's throat. Because if I give a player to the coach and the coach doesn't want him, he'll resent it and the production of the whole team will suffer.
Red Auerbach: The Harvard Business Review Interview
Part 5
HBR: So part of the Celtics' system is the way you set up the salaries?
AUERBACH: Well, it's not just the money reward, it's more than that. It's like Larry Bird always says before a big game: "I'll be ready and the other guys will be ready and we're going to win this thing." Not "I'm going to win it." He says, "We're going to win it." Larry Bird gets as big a thrill out of making the pass as he does making the shot.
HBR: What are the other factors?
AUERBACH: One important thing is trust within our organization. I really believe that loyalty is a two-way street. Unfortunately, in most businesses managers expect loyalty from employees but are very reluctant to give loyalty.
We've built up an organization where we care about our people. That doesn't mean that you can't make trades. You must have a certain amount of flexibility so if you feel you can improve your club, you go ahead and make a trade. But over the years we've made very few trades. Anybody who's been with us for more than five or six years will usually finish his career here. And when a player is on the tail end of his career, we don't just say, "We paid you, you played. See you later."
Most of our players have self-retired. They tell me when they don't think they can play anymore. The Jones boys, Cousy, Russell, Havlicek, Sanders, Nelson, Heinsohn--they all announced their retirements with no pressure from me whatsoever. People who come here realize that if they produce and do the job as they should and are happy here, we'll do our best for them. And we're interested in what they do when they leave here, when their careers are over.
HBR: So part of the Celtics' system is the way you set up the salaries?
AUERBACH: Well, it's not just the money reward, it's more than that. It's like Larry Bird always says before a big game: "I'll be ready and the other guys will be ready and we're going to win this thing." Not "I'm going to win it." He says, "We're going to win it." Larry Bird gets as big a thrill out of making the pass as he does making the shot.
HBR: What are the other factors?
AUERBACH: One important thing is trust within our organization. I really believe that loyalty is a two-way street. Unfortunately, in most businesses managers expect loyalty from employees but are very reluctant to give loyalty.
We've built up an organization where we care about our people. That doesn't mean that you can't make trades. You must have a certain amount of flexibility so if you feel you can improve your club, you go ahead and make a trade. But over the years we've made very few trades. Anybody who's been with us for more than five or six years will usually finish his career here. And when a player is on the tail end of his career, we don't just say, "We paid you, you played. See you later."
Most of our players have self-retired. They tell me when they don't think they can play anymore. The Jones boys, Cousy, Russell, Havlicek, Sanders, Nelson, Heinsohn--they all announced their retirements with no pressure from me whatsoever. People who come here realize that if they produce and do the job as they should and are happy here, we'll do our best for them. And we're interested in what they do when they leave here, when their careers are over.
8.08.2008
McHale and the Sixth-Man Tradition
The smile on Kevin McHale's face says a lot. His contract hassles are a thing of the past. He no longer feels inhibited in a Celtics offense that is imaginative and allows him to take advantage of all his skills.
McHale seems to be having a ball coming off the bench for the Celtics , either as backup center to Robert Parish or backup power forward to Larry Bird. Backup, perhaps, isn't the right word. For, what McHale is doing is a reincarnation of the traditional Celtics "sixth man" principle, with a slight twist that has given the concept a new meaning.
The role was made famous by legendary Celtics Frank Ramsey and John Havlicek, both swingmen who could play either guard or forward with equal dexterity. In the '70s, the Celtics hung the tag on inside players Don Nelson and Paul Silas, because they also could play two positions. But both had liabilities no matter where they played. Nelson, a guard-forward, could shoot but not jump. Silas, a forward-center, could hold his own underneath against anybody, but some nights needed radar for a layup.
McHale is a combination of Nelson and Silas, but taller. His current role is ideal, with his college training and overall talents. McHale played forward for two years at the University of Minnesota because the Gophers had Mychal Thompson, now with the Portland Trail Blazers, playing center. McHale then shifted to strictly a center, until he became a swingman in his senior year because of Randy Breuer, now a reserve center with Milwaukee. The fact that McHale stands 6 feet 10, weighs 225 pounds and is willing to gallop with the Celtics' greyhounds fits in with what coach K. C. Jones wants to accomplish on both offense and defense.
Ramsey and Havlicek created mismatches with their size and speed. McHale accomplishes the same thing inside. He is strong enough to overpower many forwards who cannot stop his hook shots and other inside moves.
Because he is basically a finesse player, big centers can muscle McHale. But he makes them pay for it, because he can also hit the jump shot, particularly the fade-away variety that only the pure shot blockers can reach, because of his unusually long arms.
"He's just like Ramsey and Havlicek" said Jones, "in that he can play two positions and score and play defense in both of them. But he gives us an added dimension in that he is a shot blocker and intimidator.
"The thing I like most about him is that he gives us options. Coming off the bench, I can use him in various combinations, either with (Larry) Bird or (Robert) Parish."
McHale has been itching to play this kind of role for the Celtics since he arrived. But it was not possible as long as the Celtics had a legitimate backup center in Rick Robey. As a rookie, McHale averaged only 20.6 minutes. The next year, he averaged 28.4 minutes, alternating mostly with Cedric Maxwell at forward. Last year, he played 28.5 minutes a game, as former coach Bill Fitch began to use Robey less. Jones eliminated the middle man, and McHale is averaging 29 minutes for the first seven games. Rookie Greg Kite, the other center, has been in only one game.
"I do feel I can do more with my game," said McHale. "In the past, I've been inhibited somewhat by what we were trying to accomplish, but now I can go either inside or outside, depending upon the situation. I feel real comfortable.
"I know it sounds corny, but I can't do any of this without my teammates. None of us are one-on-one players, and we need help to get a shot off. They're pressing and working hard to get the ball up the court. They make sure I get it in a position from which I can score."
McHale's thought reflects a basic philosophy, which he says is a return to a style of play that the club used often in winning the NBA title in 1980.
"We fast break a lot because of the pressure," said McHale. "And that's where we get so many of our points. It's up to us big men to get out and run and get in position. That way, even if the break doesn't go, we're in a spot to do some damage."
McHale seems to be having a ball coming off the bench for the Celtics , either as backup center to Robert Parish or backup power forward to Larry Bird. Backup, perhaps, isn't the right word. For, what McHale is doing is a reincarnation of the traditional Celtics "sixth man" principle, with a slight twist that has given the concept a new meaning.
The role was made famous by legendary Celtics Frank Ramsey and John Havlicek, both swingmen who could play either guard or forward with equal dexterity. In the '70s, the Celtics hung the tag on inside players Don Nelson and Paul Silas, because they also could play two positions. But both had liabilities no matter where they played. Nelson, a guard-forward, could shoot but not jump. Silas, a forward-center, could hold his own underneath against anybody, but some nights needed radar for a layup.
McHale is a combination of Nelson and Silas, but taller. His current role is ideal, with his college training and overall talents. McHale played forward for two years at the University of Minnesota because the Gophers had Mychal Thompson, now with the Portland Trail Blazers, playing center. McHale then shifted to strictly a center, until he became a swingman in his senior year because of Randy Breuer, now a reserve center with Milwaukee. The fact that McHale stands 6 feet 10, weighs 225 pounds and is willing to gallop with the Celtics' greyhounds fits in with what coach K. C. Jones wants to accomplish on both offense and defense.
Ramsey and Havlicek created mismatches with their size and speed. McHale accomplishes the same thing inside. He is strong enough to overpower many forwards who cannot stop his hook shots and other inside moves.
Because he is basically a finesse player, big centers can muscle McHale. But he makes them pay for it, because he can also hit the jump shot, particularly the fade-away variety that only the pure shot blockers can reach, because of his unusually long arms.
"He's just like Ramsey and Havlicek" said Jones, "in that he can play two positions and score and play defense in both of them. But he gives us an added dimension in that he is a shot blocker and intimidator.
"The thing I like most about him is that he gives us options. Coming off the bench, I can use him in various combinations, either with (Larry) Bird or (Robert) Parish."
McHale has been itching to play this kind of role for the Celtics since he arrived. But it was not possible as long as the Celtics had a legitimate backup center in Rick Robey. As a rookie, McHale averaged only 20.6 minutes. The next year, he averaged 28.4 minutes, alternating mostly with Cedric Maxwell at forward. Last year, he played 28.5 minutes a game, as former coach Bill Fitch began to use Robey less. Jones eliminated the middle man, and McHale is averaging 29 minutes for the first seven games. Rookie Greg Kite, the other center, has been in only one game.
"I do feel I can do more with my game," said McHale. "In the past, I've been inhibited somewhat by what we were trying to accomplish, but now I can go either inside or outside, depending upon the situation. I feel real comfortable.
"I know it sounds corny, but I can't do any of this without my teammates. None of us are one-on-one players, and we need help to get a shot off. They're pressing and working hard to get the ball up the court. They make sure I get it in a position from which I can score."
McHale's thought reflects a basic philosophy, which he says is a return to a style of play that the club used often in winning the NBA title in 1980.
"We fast break a lot because of the pressure," said McHale. "And that's where we get so many of our points. It's up to us big men to get out and run and get in position. That way, even if the break doesn't go, we're in a spot to do some damage."
7.24.2008
John Havlicek : Merchandiser Nonpareil
Brother Dominic is still doing verrry nice work for Xerox, his colleague says. Verrry nice. The good man still gets the big jobs done for the monastery, 10,000 perfect copies of the Gloria with the scrollwork just so.
And if Xerox needs to get the inside track with a client, Brother Dominic puts on his robe and goes over. He's very good with the machines, can tick off the selling points like he's giving you the Joyful Mysteries.
1982
"Of course, we're in different divisions," says his colleague, John Havlicek. "He's in ISD. Information Systems Division. I'm in BPD."
Business Products Division, you understand. This is John Havlicek, small businessman, telling you as an entrepreneurial soulmate why you should buy the Xerox 2350. This desk-top copier can reduce my size 14 sneakers to an 8 1/2 .
He is also John Havlicek, pensioner, assuring you that you, too, can "retire like a superstar" with an IRA from the good old Boston Five. And a while back he was Jean Havliceque, gourmand francais, telling you that Yoplait yogurt est fantastique.
Four years after he hung up his Celtic jersey for good, Havlicek has been reincarnated as a merchandiser nonpareil. The man is everywhere these days - trade journals, airline magazines, national slicks, newspaper ads. His voice - warm, confident, sincere - is on the radio. The 6-foot-6 frame, several pounds less than his playingdays, fills TV screens.
Havlicek goes to meetings and tells Xerox salesmen that they're like the 1969 Celtics competing against the Wilt-Elgin-Jerry West Lakers. "We were faced with a formidable team," the Old Captain tells them, "just as you're faced with the Japanese, IBM . . ."
It's Keynes according to the NBA, and it translates easily. You can't stay in a rut, Havlicek tells the salesmen. Sometimes, in business as in basketball, you have to change your strategy in mid-series.
"I bring up the time we were down three games to one to the 76ers and came back," Havlicek says. "And I talk about how you have to keep pushing because you don't know what's around the corner."
It's hard to read their reactions, he admits. But the Xerox people seem to like his metaphor. Somehow, it goes beyond mere "jocktalk." Havlicek is a small businessman, with three Wendy's Old Fashioned Hamburger restaurants already open in New York's Westchester County, another three on the boards and rights to still another dozen.
He's got the credibility they want. Havlicek has hung his own money out there in the middle of the recession. He can talk comfortably about inventory control, cash flow and employee motivation. And he believes in his product.
Somebody once polled consumer/fans about sincerity quotients, about the believability of certain athlete/pitchmen. And Havlicek finished second to Stan Musial, "baseball's perfect knight" as the statue outside of the stadium in St. Louis calls him.
Now, some athletes will endorse products they'd never use. Not only will Havlicek not do that, he won't even endorse some things he does use.
"I won't do a beer commercial," he says, "even though I drink beer, because I think it limits you in other areas. After I was shown on TV drinking champagne after a championship, I got about 30 letters from ministers and priests saying that it wasn't the same example I'd portrayed. I decided it wasn't worth the flak."
A Xerox 2350 is more in line with the image. The 2350 is trim, durable and consistent. You get the same crisp product on Saturdays in May as you did on Wednesdays in October. In fact, Havlicek actually portrayed the 2350 during a skit at a company meeting.
"The various copying machines were all basketball players," he says. "And they were down by about 20 points at halftime. So the coach comes in and starts asking, What's wrong with you? One machine says, Me, I'm so outdated I can't even function. And so on. So the coach says, I'm going to get me a superstar. So I come out on the stage and he says, You think you're pretty good? I say, I'm the best. I'm the new 2350 . . ."
Havlicek actually has a 2350 in his office at home. He uses it all the time. When the Boston Five signed him on to promote their IRA plan, Havlicek went out and opened his own IRA with them.
And after he got his hamburger franchises off the ground, he went out to Ohio for a week at Wendy's Management Institute and earned his diploma.
He loved every minute of it, the whole assembly-line cosmos. "Remember, I'm a guy that used to fold his socks over coathangers," Havlicek says. "I like that stuff, the details. How many hamburgers there are in a bag of meat. What the temperature of the grease should be in the french-fry cookers. The levels of condiments. The calibrator you put under the soda dispenser. If it isn't equalized, you can be making a lot of money or losing a lot. I know all those things now."
He talks about role players, how some people are simply better suited to french fries, others to the grill. Every day Havlicek calls his partner Larry Fleisher (who used to negotiate Havlicek's Celtic contracts for him) to talk about The Numbers.
And every week or so Havlicek will fly down to White Plains, N.Y., squeezing into the Command Airways commuter just like any other small businessman-on-the-go, and check out the operation personally. If he orders a burger, he pays for it out of pocket. His family, you may remember, ran a general store in Ohio; Havlicek still has the enormous brass cash register at home.
He has the instincts, the visibility, the believability. It was only a matter of time before corporate America found him. "I would have done the advertisements before," Havlicek says. "They just didn't come around."
During his playing days, he endorsed Rawlings basketballs (and later his own make), Swanson's Hungry Man dinners (with Tommy Heinsohn) and Williams 'Lectric Shave (with teammate Steve Kuberski).
When he retired, he assumed his days as a billboard were over. "I always figured," Havlicek says, "that when you were playing, that's when things would come your way."
Then last fall, Xerox happened to be looking for someone who could sell compact copiers to small businessmen. They wanted someone who was (a) a small businessman himself and (b) tall.
"We wanted a guy who's not flashy," says Kevin McKeon, an executive for Needham, Harper & Steers, the New York agency that handles Xerox advertising. "A guy who's well known, but he's in their position. Everyone likes John Havlicek. Everyone knows him. He'd lend a lot of credibility to Xerox."
So the agency called Havlicek and asked him if he was going to be in New York anytime soon. "I'll make it a point to be in New York," Havlicek told them.
When he arrived, they set up a demo commercial with a handheld camera. "They wanted to see if I could talk and read," muses Havlicek.
At first, says McKeon, Havlicek seemed nervous. "We thought, oh, oh, another athlete/actor. But he loosened up really fast."
"How would you like to talk to the president of Xerox?" the agency people asked him.
Where is he? Havlicek wondered. On the phone?
"No, no, right in this camera. Tell him why you'd like to be with Xerox."
So Havlicek began talking about quality and championships and tradition, drawing parallels between Xerox and the Celtics. "I gave them a two-minute spiel right off the cuff," he says.
And the president loved it. The creative people immediately went to work on a package that had to be ready for the bowl games. Newspaper ads, with Havlicek in busines suit and sneakers. Television commercials, with Havlicek in striped shirt and rep tie. When I stopped running around the courts, I started running my own restaurant.
He did a sales film at Boston Garden, twice shooting six hours at a stretch, then shooting six hours more after a Celtics-Philadelphia game - from 11 p.m. to 5 a.m. - when the cameraman messed up. "They were cleaning the Garden," Havlicek remembers. "And someone would yell, Quiet on the set. So the people had to drop their brooms and sit down."
It had to be authentic. The creative people wanted Havlicek in a Celtics warmup. They wanted the Garden. But mostly, they wanted the parquet floor. "It was really a symbol to them," Havlicek says. "I've always thought it was the leprechaun, the shamrocks, the banners. But they were really interested in that floor."
And the man who played on it for 16 years. The Xerox people have signed him for a year with an option for more. They want him to go to Portland, Seattle, Albuquerque and points east to chat with their sales people and their executives over cocktails and draw parallels for them. The role player has become role model.
That's also what attracted the Boston Five people. They felt they had an attractive plan and a good pension trust department. What they wanted, with the whole banking fraternity offering retirement plans, was something to set them apart.
"We were looking for someone who was honest, believable, successful and well-known," says Patty Bond of Schmalenberger & Nargassans, the Boston agency that handles the Boston Five account.
And, ideally, someone who's already in retirement. A pensioner's role model. Havlicek planned ahead during his working days, the implication goes. Now look at him.
The fact is, that Havlicek doesn't really need all this. On the eve of his retirement, he was asked to sum up his financial status in 10 words or less. "I don't have to work if I don't want to," Havlicek had replied.
He has deferred income due him from his playing days. He'll get an NBA pension. He has his Wendy's investments. He has a lovely house on two acres in Weston and weeks upon weeks of free time to use for vacations.
But somehow, he feels he has to earn his time off. He says he wouldn't feel right jetting off to Aspen to ski (as he did a week or so ago) or casting for bonefish in Florida or hunting deer in Maine and not working for it somehow.
So he makes his commitments weeks ahead and goes to the airport as just another small businessman trying to get by. Except that this small businessman finds himself signing autographs from takeoff to touchdown.
"They all get their airline magazine and bring it up to me," says Brother Dominic's colleague. "There's a picture at every seat."
And if Xerox needs to get the inside track with a client, Brother Dominic puts on his robe and goes over. He's very good with the machines, can tick off the selling points like he's giving you the Joyful Mysteries.
1982
"Of course, we're in different divisions," says his colleague, John Havlicek. "He's in ISD. Information Systems Division. I'm in BPD."
Business Products Division, you understand. This is John Havlicek, small businessman, telling you as an entrepreneurial soulmate why you should buy the Xerox 2350. This desk-top copier can reduce my size 14 sneakers to an 8 1/2 .
He is also John Havlicek, pensioner, assuring you that you, too, can "retire like a superstar" with an IRA from the good old Boston Five. And a while back he was Jean Havliceque, gourmand francais, telling you that Yoplait yogurt est fantastique.
Four years after he hung up his Celtic jersey for good, Havlicek has been reincarnated as a merchandiser nonpareil. The man is everywhere these days - trade journals, airline magazines, national slicks, newspaper ads. His voice - warm, confident, sincere - is on the radio. The 6-foot-6 frame, several pounds less than his playingdays, fills TV screens.
Havlicek goes to meetings and tells Xerox salesmen that they're like the 1969 Celtics competing against the Wilt-Elgin-Jerry West Lakers. "We were faced with a formidable team," the Old Captain tells them, "just as you're faced with the Japanese, IBM . . ."
It's Keynes according to the NBA, and it translates easily. You can't stay in a rut, Havlicek tells the salesmen. Sometimes, in business as in basketball, you have to change your strategy in mid-series.
"I bring up the time we were down three games to one to the 76ers and came back," Havlicek says. "And I talk about how you have to keep pushing because you don't know what's around the corner."
It's hard to read their reactions, he admits. But the Xerox people seem to like his metaphor. Somehow, it goes beyond mere "jocktalk." Havlicek is a small businessman, with three Wendy's Old Fashioned Hamburger restaurants already open in New York's Westchester County, another three on the boards and rights to still another dozen.
He's got the credibility they want. Havlicek has hung his own money out there in the middle of the recession. He can talk comfortably about inventory control, cash flow and employee motivation. And he believes in his product.
Somebody once polled consumer/fans about sincerity quotients, about the believability of certain athlete/pitchmen. And Havlicek finished second to Stan Musial, "baseball's perfect knight" as the statue outside of the stadium in St. Louis calls him.
Now, some athletes will endorse products they'd never use. Not only will Havlicek not do that, he won't even endorse some things he does use.
"I won't do a beer commercial," he says, "even though I drink beer, because I think it limits you in other areas. After I was shown on TV drinking champagne after a championship, I got about 30 letters from ministers and priests saying that it wasn't the same example I'd portrayed. I decided it wasn't worth the flak."
A Xerox 2350 is more in line with the image. The 2350 is trim, durable and consistent. You get the same crisp product on Saturdays in May as you did on Wednesdays in October. In fact, Havlicek actually portrayed the 2350 during a skit at a company meeting.
"The various copying machines were all basketball players," he says. "And they were down by about 20 points at halftime. So the coach comes in and starts asking, What's wrong with you? One machine says, Me, I'm so outdated I can't even function. And so on. So the coach says, I'm going to get me a superstar. So I come out on the stage and he says, You think you're pretty good? I say, I'm the best. I'm the new 2350 . . ."
Havlicek actually has a 2350 in his office at home. He uses it all the time. When the Boston Five signed him on to promote their IRA plan, Havlicek went out and opened his own IRA with them.
And after he got his hamburger franchises off the ground, he went out to Ohio for a week at Wendy's Management Institute and earned his diploma.
He loved every minute of it, the whole assembly-line cosmos. "Remember, I'm a guy that used to fold his socks over coathangers," Havlicek says. "I like that stuff, the details. How many hamburgers there are in a bag of meat. What the temperature of the grease should be in the french-fry cookers. The levels of condiments. The calibrator you put under the soda dispenser. If it isn't equalized, you can be making a lot of money or losing a lot. I know all those things now."
He talks about role players, how some people are simply better suited to french fries, others to the grill. Every day Havlicek calls his partner Larry Fleisher (who used to negotiate Havlicek's Celtic contracts for him) to talk about The Numbers.
And every week or so Havlicek will fly down to White Plains, N.Y., squeezing into the Command Airways commuter just like any other small businessman-on-the-go, and check out the operation personally. If he orders a burger, he pays for it out of pocket. His family, you may remember, ran a general store in Ohio; Havlicek still has the enormous brass cash register at home.
He has the instincts, the visibility, the believability. It was only a matter of time before corporate America found him. "I would have done the advertisements before," Havlicek says. "They just didn't come around."
During his playing days, he endorsed Rawlings basketballs (and later his own make), Swanson's Hungry Man dinners (with Tommy Heinsohn) and Williams 'Lectric Shave (with teammate Steve Kuberski).
When he retired, he assumed his days as a billboard were over. "I always figured," Havlicek says, "that when you were playing, that's when things would come your way."
Then last fall, Xerox happened to be looking for someone who could sell compact copiers to small businessmen. They wanted someone who was (a) a small businessman himself and (b) tall.
"We wanted a guy who's not flashy," says Kevin McKeon, an executive for Needham, Harper & Steers, the New York agency that handles Xerox advertising. "A guy who's well known, but he's in their position. Everyone likes John Havlicek. Everyone knows him. He'd lend a lot of credibility to Xerox."
So the agency called Havlicek and asked him if he was going to be in New York anytime soon. "I'll make it a point to be in New York," Havlicek told them.
When he arrived, they set up a demo commercial with a handheld camera. "They wanted to see if I could talk and read," muses Havlicek.
At first, says McKeon, Havlicek seemed nervous. "We thought, oh, oh, another athlete/actor. But he loosened up really fast."
"How would you like to talk to the president of Xerox?" the agency people asked him.
Where is he? Havlicek wondered. On the phone?
"No, no, right in this camera. Tell him why you'd like to be with Xerox."
So Havlicek began talking about quality and championships and tradition, drawing parallels between Xerox and the Celtics. "I gave them a two-minute spiel right off the cuff," he says.
And the president loved it. The creative people immediately went to work on a package that had to be ready for the bowl games. Newspaper ads, with Havlicek in busines suit and sneakers. Television commercials, with Havlicek in striped shirt and rep tie. When I stopped running around the courts, I started running my own restaurant.
He did a sales film at Boston Garden, twice shooting six hours at a stretch, then shooting six hours more after a Celtics-Philadelphia game - from 11 p.m. to 5 a.m. - when the cameraman messed up. "They were cleaning the Garden," Havlicek remembers. "And someone would yell, Quiet on the set. So the people had to drop their brooms and sit down."
It had to be authentic. The creative people wanted Havlicek in a Celtics warmup. They wanted the Garden. But mostly, they wanted the parquet floor. "It was really a symbol to them," Havlicek says. "I've always thought it was the leprechaun, the shamrocks, the banners. But they were really interested in that floor."
And the man who played on it for 16 years. The Xerox people have signed him for a year with an option for more. They want him to go to Portland, Seattle, Albuquerque and points east to chat with their sales people and their executives over cocktails and draw parallels for them. The role player has become role model.
That's also what attracted the Boston Five people. They felt they had an attractive plan and a good pension trust department. What they wanted, with the whole banking fraternity offering retirement plans, was something to set them apart.
"We were looking for someone who was honest, believable, successful and well-known," says Patty Bond of Schmalenberger & Nargassans, the Boston agency that handles the Boston Five account.
And, ideally, someone who's already in retirement. A pensioner's role model. Havlicek planned ahead during his working days, the implication goes. Now look at him.
The fact is, that Havlicek doesn't really need all this. On the eve of his retirement, he was asked to sum up his financial status in 10 words or less. "I don't have to work if I don't want to," Havlicek had replied.
He has deferred income due him from his playing days. He'll get an NBA pension. He has his Wendy's investments. He has a lovely house on two acres in Weston and weeks upon weeks of free time to use for vacations.
But somehow, he feels he has to earn his time off. He says he wouldn't feel right jetting off to Aspen to ski (as he did a week or so ago) or casting for bonefish in Florida or hunting deer in Maine and not working for it somehow.
So he makes his commitments weeks ahead and goes to the airport as just another small businessman trying to get by. Except that this small businessman finds himself signing autographs from takeoff to touchdown.
"They all get their airline magazine and bring it up to me," says Brother Dominic's colleague. "There's a picture at every seat."
7.14.2008
Russell's Last Two Titles
--Boston Globe
With each passing year, the achievement became magnified. Back-to-back championships were beginning to be seen as a fictional feat. There had been multiple back-to-back champions in each of the other major sports between 1969 and 1987, but not in the NBA.
You know what? The "Old Celtics" really were old. In retrospect, those two titles were wondrous achievements, because when the 1968 playoffs began, the average age of the first eight men on the Celtics was 30. The Celtics were thought to be finished as serious championship contenders following their five-game elimination by Philadelphia in 1967. The new order belonged to the 76ers, who had won a then-record 68 games in 1966-67 and who in 1968 came back with a 62-win season. It was pretty much assumed that the 76ers would repeat as champs.
But Bill Russell and his friends weren't quite ready for the rocking chair and slipper routine.
1968 PLAYOFFS
There is early trouble. Russell has insomnia before Game 2 of the first- round series against the Detroit Pistons, a 126-116 loss . . . Detroit wins Game 3, also, taking a shocking 2-1 series lead. "I think I know what the trouble is," says player-coach Russell. The solution is to start John Havlicek, who gets 35 points, 9 rebounds and 9 assists as the Celtics tie the series with 135-110 triumph. This is prime-of-life Havlicek, who rings up 18-12-13 numbers in the fifth game and 31-10-12 numbers in the sixth. Celtics win series, 4-2, but Dave Bing says, "I thought we gave 'em a good fight."
On to the 76ers, who now are playing in The Spectrum, rather than the ancient Convention Hall. First game goes according to Celtics' plan (127-118 win at Philly), then Sixers win next three. Are the Celtics dead? "We'll find out," Russell says. "Stay tuned." . . . Havlicek, of course, is always tuned. He and Don Nelson go to afternoon movie and down hot sausage sandwiches at a sidewalk stand, then Havlicek goes 48 minutes and Sam Jones tosses in 37 and Russell pulls down 31 rebounds in 122-114 stay of execution . . . In games 6 and 7, Philly never has a 30-point period . . . Havlicek and Nelson repeat the movie-sausage ritual on afternoon of Game 7 . . . Wilt Chamberlain takes two shots from the floor in second half of Game 7. Sixers still alive, down three with the ball in final 30 seconds, but Russell blocks a Chet Walker shot, and, when Hal Greer picks the ball up, Russell rebounds the miss to wrap it up, 100-96, enabling the Celtics to become the first NBA team to come back from a 3-1 series deficit . . . Sighs Chamberlain, "They were tougher."
The finals vs. LA are almost anticlimactic . . . Key is Game 5, as teams are 2-2 heading back to Boston . . . Nellie plays his best Celtic game to that point, scoring 31, but it takes a block by -- who else? -- Russell on Elgin Baylor to save the game in overtime, 120-117 . . . Laker problems mount when Jerry West sprains ankle . . . Back to LA for Game 6. "We've got to get psyched up and go out there and play like we're down, 3-2," proclaims Wayne (The Wall) Embry. Not to worry. Havlicek strikes for 40 and Bailey Howell helps himself to 30 as Celtics breeze to 10th title, 124-109 . . . Rick Weitzman hits a jumper in only playoff attempt. "I may frame the box score and hang it up," he gushes . . . A distraught West salutes Russell. "If I had to choose one player, it would be Russell," he says. "Russell never ceases to amaze me." . . . Exudes the normally phlegmatic Sam Jones, "This has got to be the greatest one." . . . Stick around, Sam.
1969 PLAYOFFS
We're not talking old now; we're talking Methuselah . . . Sam Jones will retire after the playoffs. Russell is now 35. The youngest regular is 29 . . . Celtics finish fourth in regular season. "It is bad, overall, for a fourth-place team to be in the playoffs," admits Sam. But Red Auerbach has a different view. "I'm not worried about them physically at all," he says. "What I'm worried is, can they put the ball in the hole?"
First opponent is the new Philly team, sans Wilt, who has been dealt to LA . . . Greer misses 17 straight and goes 3 for 23 in Celtics' opening-game victory . . . Sam and publicist Howie McHugh heaved by referee Jack Madden in opening minutes of Game 2 . . . Celts so shaken they can only squeak out a 31- point (134-103) victory . . . It ends in an easy five. "We're sick and tired of losing to those guys," fumes Archie Clark.
Russell was ready for the Knicks in the second round because the Knicks had beaten the Celtics six of seven games, and Willis Reed was getting a lot of ink . . . Russ apologizes in these pages (he was writing a daily playoff column) for not playing his friend Satch Sanders in Game 1, when he used seven men to get a 108-100 jump in Madison Square Garden . . . Russell too old? Grabs 29 rebounds in Game 2 . . . Knicks hang tough behind Walt Frazier and Dave DeBusschere, and it's 3-2, Boston, after 5. "This is getting to be a struggle," admits Russell . . . Game 6 is a classic and a Havlicek showcase . . . Celts use 20 of the available 24 seconds to score on each of last four baskets in tense game, with Havlicek making the last two hoops in 106-105 thriller.
LA, featuring Chamberlain, Baylor and West, awaits . . . Lakers are confident, especially after winning four of six from the Celtics during regular season and smashing them, 108-73, on last day of regular season . . . Coach Butch van Breda Kolff even has a new defensive weapon, a 6-foot-6- inch forward from USC via Cambridge, Mass., named Bill Hewitt. "I know Havlicek can run," says VBK, "but Bill can run as long as John does."
But run where? Havlicek gets 41 in series opener. West, however, torments the shorter Emmette Bryant for 53, and LA wins, 120-118 . . . Bryant switches over to Johnny Egan for Game 2. West "held" to 41, but Baylor erupts for game's last 12 points. LA wins, 118-112, and goes two-up . . . No team has ever come back from 0-2. Are the Celtics whipped? "No," insists Auerbach, "if we keep playing like we are, we're gonna win this thing yet."
Celts must win Game 3, and they do as Havlicek gets 34 and Larry Siegfried pumps in 28. Keith Erickson now guarding Havlicek . . . Game 4 will forever be remembered as the one with Sam's Shot. The situation: LA up one with the ball. Bryant deflects Baylor's in-bounds pass to Egan, and Celtics steal. Sam misses jumper, but Baylor can't control rebound. Celts call time out with seven seconds left. Havlicek suggests an old Ohio State play he introduced the day before at practice. Sam takes off-balance jumper that rolls around rim and in to give Celtics an 89-88 triumph. "I thought it was short," Sam says, "but maybe Russell would have a chance for the rebound." Russell had taken himself out for another shooter during the timeout. "There were four-leaf clovers flying around all over the place," says Bryant.
It comes down to Game 7 in LA . . . Owner Jack Kent Cooke has balloons ready to release from ceiling and USC marching band ready to play "Happy Days Are Here Again." . . . Not in LA, they aren't . . . Celts jump ahead by 17 in third quarter before the Lakers make a run . . . Wilt asks out with six minutes left. Says his knee hurts . . . Later wants back in, but VBK says no because Mel Counts is hitting . . . Celts lead by one when Nellie picks up loose ball and sticks up-and-in jumper for three-point lead with 1:17 left. "The ball had no right going in," Nellie would say later . . . Russell goes 48 minutes in the 108-106 banner-winner, ending his career with a 21- rebound performance . . . Sam Jones, No. 24, matches his uniform number in his last game . . . West magnificent in defeat, putting 42-13-12 numbers on board while playing with a pulled hamstring . . . "Of all the people I have played against," Havlicek declares, "I appreciated West the most." . . . Compliments flow the other way, of course. "We had the talent," says LA's Tom Hawkins, "but not the team." . . . The last word belongs to Russell. "I honestly didn't think we could do it," he says, "but here we are with another flag." Then he explains what makes the Celtics different. "We see each other as men, and we judge a guy by his character, not by how well he shoots or how well he plays, or anything like that. We are proud of each other, and I know I wouldn't trade this bunch of guys for any other bunch of guys in the world."
Given that it was Russell's last team, and that no other team has ever surrendered the home court in all of its series and still come out on top, it can safely be said that there never was, and never will be, another group like them.
With each passing year, the achievement became magnified. Back-to-back championships were beginning to be seen as a fictional feat. There had been multiple back-to-back champions in each of the other major sports between 1969 and 1987, but not in the NBA.
You know what? The "Old Celtics" really were old. In retrospect, those two titles were wondrous achievements, because when the 1968 playoffs began, the average age of the first eight men on the Celtics was 30. The Celtics were thought to be finished as serious championship contenders following their five-game elimination by Philadelphia in 1967. The new order belonged to the 76ers, who had won a then-record 68 games in 1966-67 and who in 1968 came back with a 62-win season. It was pretty much assumed that the 76ers would repeat as champs.
But Bill Russell and his friends weren't quite ready for the rocking chair and slipper routine.
1968 PLAYOFFS
There is early trouble. Russell has insomnia before Game 2 of the first- round series against the Detroit Pistons, a 126-116 loss . . . Detroit wins Game 3, also, taking a shocking 2-1 series lead. "I think I know what the trouble is," says player-coach Russell. The solution is to start John Havlicek, who gets 35 points, 9 rebounds and 9 assists as the Celtics tie the series with 135-110 triumph. This is prime-of-life Havlicek, who rings up 18-12-13 numbers in the fifth game and 31-10-12 numbers in the sixth. Celtics win series, 4-2, but Dave Bing says, "I thought we gave 'em a good fight."
On to the 76ers, who now are playing in The Spectrum, rather than the ancient Convention Hall. First game goes according to Celtics' plan (127-118 win at Philly), then Sixers win next three. Are the Celtics dead? "We'll find out," Russell says. "Stay tuned." . . . Havlicek, of course, is always tuned. He and Don Nelson go to afternoon movie and down hot sausage sandwiches at a sidewalk stand, then Havlicek goes 48 minutes and Sam Jones tosses in 37 and Russell pulls down 31 rebounds in 122-114 stay of execution . . . In games 6 and 7, Philly never has a 30-point period . . . Havlicek and Nelson repeat the movie-sausage ritual on afternoon of Game 7 . . . Wilt Chamberlain takes two shots from the floor in second half of Game 7. Sixers still alive, down three with the ball in final 30 seconds, but Russell blocks a Chet Walker shot, and, when Hal Greer picks the ball up, Russell rebounds the miss to wrap it up, 100-96, enabling the Celtics to become the first NBA team to come back from a 3-1 series deficit . . . Sighs Chamberlain, "They were tougher."
The finals vs. LA are almost anticlimactic . . . Key is Game 5, as teams are 2-2 heading back to Boston . . . Nellie plays his best Celtic game to that point, scoring 31, but it takes a block by -- who else? -- Russell on Elgin Baylor to save the game in overtime, 120-117 . . . Laker problems mount when Jerry West sprains ankle . . . Back to LA for Game 6. "We've got to get psyched up and go out there and play like we're down, 3-2," proclaims Wayne (The Wall) Embry. Not to worry. Havlicek strikes for 40 and Bailey Howell helps himself to 30 as Celtics breeze to 10th title, 124-109 . . . Rick Weitzman hits a jumper in only playoff attempt. "I may frame the box score and hang it up," he gushes . . . A distraught West salutes Russell. "If I had to choose one player, it would be Russell," he says. "Russell never ceases to amaze me." . . . Exudes the normally phlegmatic Sam Jones, "This has got to be the greatest one." . . . Stick around, Sam.
1969 PLAYOFFS
We're not talking old now; we're talking Methuselah . . . Sam Jones will retire after the playoffs. Russell is now 35. The youngest regular is 29 . . . Celtics finish fourth in regular season. "It is bad, overall, for a fourth-place team to be in the playoffs," admits Sam. But Red Auerbach has a different view. "I'm not worried about them physically at all," he says. "What I'm worried is, can they put the ball in the hole?"
First opponent is the new Philly team, sans Wilt, who has been dealt to LA . . . Greer misses 17 straight and goes 3 for 23 in Celtics' opening-game victory . . . Sam and publicist Howie McHugh heaved by referee Jack Madden in opening minutes of Game 2 . . . Celts so shaken they can only squeak out a 31- point (134-103) victory . . . It ends in an easy five. "We're sick and tired of losing to those guys," fumes Archie Clark.
Russell was ready for the Knicks in the second round because the Knicks had beaten the Celtics six of seven games, and Willis Reed was getting a lot of ink . . . Russ apologizes in these pages (he was writing a daily playoff column) for not playing his friend Satch Sanders in Game 1, when he used seven men to get a 108-100 jump in Madison Square Garden . . . Russell too old? Grabs 29 rebounds in Game 2 . . . Knicks hang tough behind Walt Frazier and Dave DeBusschere, and it's 3-2, Boston, after 5. "This is getting to be a struggle," admits Russell . . . Game 6 is a classic and a Havlicek showcase . . . Celts use 20 of the available 24 seconds to score on each of last four baskets in tense game, with Havlicek making the last two hoops in 106-105 thriller.
LA, featuring Chamberlain, Baylor and West, awaits . . . Lakers are confident, especially after winning four of six from the Celtics during regular season and smashing them, 108-73, on last day of regular season . . . Coach Butch van Breda Kolff even has a new defensive weapon, a 6-foot-6- inch forward from USC via Cambridge, Mass., named Bill Hewitt. "I know Havlicek can run," says VBK, "but Bill can run as long as John does."
But run where? Havlicek gets 41 in series opener. West, however, torments the shorter Emmette Bryant for 53, and LA wins, 120-118 . . . Bryant switches over to Johnny Egan for Game 2. West "held" to 41, but Baylor erupts for game's last 12 points. LA wins, 118-112, and goes two-up . . . No team has ever come back from 0-2. Are the Celtics whipped? "No," insists Auerbach, "if we keep playing like we are, we're gonna win this thing yet."
Celts must win Game 3, and they do as Havlicek gets 34 and Larry Siegfried pumps in 28. Keith Erickson now guarding Havlicek . . . Game 4 will forever be remembered as the one with Sam's Shot. The situation: LA up one with the ball. Bryant deflects Baylor's in-bounds pass to Egan, and Celtics steal. Sam misses jumper, but Baylor can't control rebound. Celts call time out with seven seconds left. Havlicek suggests an old Ohio State play he introduced the day before at practice. Sam takes off-balance jumper that rolls around rim and in to give Celtics an 89-88 triumph. "I thought it was short," Sam says, "but maybe Russell would have a chance for the rebound." Russell had taken himself out for another shooter during the timeout. "There were four-leaf clovers flying around all over the place," says Bryant.
It comes down to Game 7 in LA . . . Owner Jack Kent Cooke has balloons ready to release from ceiling and USC marching band ready to play "Happy Days Are Here Again." . . . Not in LA, they aren't . . . Celts jump ahead by 17 in third quarter before the Lakers make a run . . . Wilt asks out with six minutes left. Says his knee hurts . . . Later wants back in, but VBK says no because Mel Counts is hitting . . . Celts lead by one when Nellie picks up loose ball and sticks up-and-in jumper for three-point lead with 1:17 left. "The ball had no right going in," Nellie would say later . . . Russell goes 48 minutes in the 108-106 banner-winner, ending his career with a 21- rebound performance . . . Sam Jones, No. 24, matches his uniform number in his last game . . . West magnificent in defeat, putting 42-13-12 numbers on board while playing with a pulled hamstring . . . "Of all the people I have played against," Havlicek declares, "I appreciated West the most." . . . Compliments flow the other way, of course. "We had the talent," says LA's Tom Hawkins, "but not the team." . . . The last word belongs to Russell. "I honestly didn't think we could do it," he says, "but here we are with another flag." Then he explains what makes the Celtics different. "We see each other as men, and we judge a guy by his character, not by how well he shoots or how well he plays, or anything like that. We are proud of each other, and I know I wouldn't trade this bunch of guys for any other bunch of guys in the world."
Given that it was Russell's last team, and that no other team has ever surrendered the home court in all of its series and still come out on top, it can safely be said that there never was, and never will be, another group like them.
7.06.2008
Do the Celtics Play in Boston or LA?
Prior to the 1978-79 season, Boston Celtics owner Irv Levin and Buffalo Braves owner John Y. Brown agreed to trade places. Levin, a California native, would takeover the Braves and move them to San Diego, where they became the Clippers, while Brown would takeover the Celtics.
However, each owner wanted to keep a few of his favorite players on the team he was inheriting. So on top of the ownership swap, a trade involving seven players and two second-round draft picks was worked out.
Brown took Nate Archibald, Marvin Barnes and Billy Knight with him to Boston. Kermit Washington, Kevin Kunnert, Sidney Wicks and first-round draft pick Freeman Williams accompanied Levin to San Diego.
So what?
I might have asked the same question until I read the Boston Globe's commentary from 1992.
Technically, the Braves' franchise is playing home games in the Boston Garden while the Celtics' franchise is on the West Coast. You want proof? Clippers' owner Donald Sterling was still writing out checks to fulfill the contract of John Havlicek during the mid-1980s.
And if the Celtics are really the Clippers and vice versa, how does this impact the 1985 trade sending Cornbread Maxwell from Boston to Los Angeles for Bill Walton? Did the Boston Celtics really win any NBA titles after 1976? Was Larry Bird really a Clipper?
Whoa.
I just can't figure out if I need to lay off those hallucinogenic drugs or ingest more of them...
However, each owner wanted to keep a few of his favorite players on the team he was inheriting. So on top of the ownership swap, a trade involving seven players and two second-round draft picks was worked out.
Brown took Nate Archibald, Marvin Barnes and Billy Knight with him to Boston. Kermit Washington, Kevin Kunnert, Sidney Wicks and first-round draft pick Freeman Williams accompanied Levin to San Diego.
So what?
I might have asked the same question until I read the Boston Globe's commentary from 1992.
Technically, the Braves' franchise is playing home games in the Boston Garden while the Celtics' franchise is on the West Coast. You want proof? Clippers' owner Donald Sterling was still writing out checks to fulfill the contract of John Havlicek during the mid-1980s.
And if the Celtics are really the Clippers and vice versa, how does this impact the 1985 trade sending Cornbread Maxwell from Boston to Los Angeles for Bill Walton? Did the Boston Celtics really win any NBA titles after 1976? Was Larry Bird really a Clipper?
Whoa.
I just can't figure out if I need to lay off those hallucinogenic drugs or ingest more of them...
3.25.2008
Grampa Celtic's 10 Best Green Teams
10. 1968-69
Record: 48-34
Playoff record: 12-6
Result: championship
The Last Hurrah for both Russell and the great Sam Jones. After pacing themselves in the regular season, the ancient Celtics (the starting five averaged 32 years of age) knocked off favored Philadelphia, New York, and, finally, star-laden Los Angeles, winning the famous Game 7 in the Fabulous Forum and in so doing keeping celebratory balloons fastened to the ceiling.
9. 1986-87
Record: 59-23
Playoff record: 13-10
Result: Lost in Finals
The Iron Man five of Bird, Kevin McHale, Robert Parish, Dennis Johnson, and Ainge did not have sufficient bench support to get by the mighty Lakers, losing the pivotal Game 4 to the storied Magic Johnson "junior, junior sky hook." No Celtic team ever had more sheer heart.
8. 1956-57
Record: 44-28
Playoff record: 7-3
Result: championship
Red Auerbach's personal favorite title, simply because it was the first. Rookies Russell (25 points, 32 rebounds) and Tom Heinsohn (37 points, 23 rebounds) carried the team to an epic double-overtime seventh game victory over the St. Louis Hawks. Many old-timey Celtics fans went to their graves swearing this was the greatest game they'd ever seen.
7. 1984-85
Record: 63-19
Playoff record: 13-8
Result: Lost in Finals
It was the second of Bird's three consecutive MVP award seasons, and the only reason the Celtics did not win the championship was the fact that the Lakers were supremely motivated, a tad deeper, and fueled by a 38-year old legend named Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. The Lakers were 1; the Celtics were 1A.
6. 1962-63
Record: 58-22
Playoff record: 8-5
Result: championship
The incomparable Russell headed a roster than included a record eight Hall of Fame players. It was the last of Cousy's six championships and the first of Havlicek's eight.
5. 1964-65
Record: 62-18
Playoff record: 8-4
Result: championship
At age 30, Russell was at his peak convergence of physical ability, knowledge, and desire. After surviving a scare from the 76ers when it wasn't over until "Havlicek Stole the Ball," they annihilated LA in the Finals.
4. 1983-84
Record: 62-20
Playoff record: 15-8
Result: championship
No better physically than the '84-85 team, this squad simply out-toughed the Lakers to win the championship. The Lakers never allowed this to happen again.
3. 1972-73
Record: 68-14
Playoff record: 7-6
Result: Lost in conference finals
Ah, what might have been. Havlicek injured his shoulder in Game 3 of the conference finals against the Knicks. The Knicks easily dispatched LA in 5; a healthy Celtics team would have swept them.
2. 2007-08
Record: 66-16
Playoff record: 16-10
Result: championship
Won opening game by 20 and never looked back, ending with 39-point humiliation of the Lakers to win the title. It would be very interesting to see if these players could impose their defensive will on their '85-86 counterparts as easily as they did on their '07-08 foes.
1. 1985-86
Record: 67-15
Playoff record: 15-3
Result: Championship
Bird was at his peak. The greatest team ever if you consider no other club has ever brought anything resembling a healthy Bill Walton off the bench. This squad was 50-1 at home, regular season and playoffs combined. This Lost Generation of Celtics fans need no longer slap on their headphones and begin rolling their eyes when the smug followers of champions 1 through 16 begin rhapsodizing about the virtues of their favorite Celtics squads of yore. Their team, No. 17, can compete with any that has ever worn the Green and White.
Record: 48-34
Playoff record: 12-6
Result: championship
The Last Hurrah for both Russell and the great Sam Jones. After pacing themselves in the regular season, the ancient Celtics (the starting five averaged 32 years of age) knocked off favored Philadelphia, New York, and, finally, star-laden Los Angeles, winning the famous Game 7 in the Fabulous Forum and in so doing keeping celebratory balloons fastened to the ceiling.
9. 1986-87
Record: 59-23
Playoff record: 13-10
Result: Lost in Finals
The Iron Man five of Bird, Kevin McHale, Robert Parish, Dennis Johnson, and Ainge did not have sufficient bench support to get by the mighty Lakers, losing the pivotal Game 4 to the storied Magic Johnson "junior, junior sky hook." No Celtic team ever had more sheer heart.
8. 1956-57
Record: 44-28
Playoff record: 7-3
Result: championship
Red Auerbach's personal favorite title, simply because it was the first. Rookies Russell (25 points, 32 rebounds) and Tom Heinsohn (37 points, 23 rebounds) carried the team to an epic double-overtime seventh game victory over the St. Louis Hawks. Many old-timey Celtics fans went to their graves swearing this was the greatest game they'd ever seen.
7. 1984-85
Record: 63-19
Playoff record: 13-8
Result: Lost in Finals
It was the second of Bird's three consecutive MVP award seasons, and the only reason the Celtics did not win the championship was the fact that the Lakers were supremely motivated, a tad deeper, and fueled by a 38-year old legend named Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. The Lakers were 1; the Celtics were 1A.
6. 1962-63
Record: 58-22
Playoff record: 8-5
Result: championship
The incomparable Russell headed a roster than included a record eight Hall of Fame players. It was the last of Cousy's six championships and the first of Havlicek's eight.
5. 1964-65
Record: 62-18
Playoff record: 8-4
Result: championship
At age 30, Russell was at his peak convergence of physical ability, knowledge, and desire. After surviving a scare from the 76ers when it wasn't over until "Havlicek Stole the Ball," they annihilated LA in the Finals.
4. 1983-84
Record: 62-20
Playoff record: 15-8
Result: championship
No better physically than the '84-85 team, this squad simply out-toughed the Lakers to win the championship. The Lakers never allowed this to happen again.
3. 1972-73
Record: 68-14
Playoff record: 7-6
Result: Lost in conference finals
Ah, what might have been. Havlicek injured his shoulder in Game 3 of the conference finals against the Knicks. The Knicks easily dispatched LA in 5; a healthy Celtics team would have swept them.
2. 2007-08
Record: 66-16
Playoff record: 16-10
Result: championship
Won opening game by 20 and never looked back, ending with 39-point humiliation of the Lakers to win the title. It would be very interesting to see if these players could impose their defensive will on their '85-86 counterparts as easily as they did on their '07-08 foes.
1. 1985-86
Record: 67-15
Playoff record: 15-3
Result: Championship
Bird was at his peak. The greatest team ever if you consider no other club has ever brought anything resembling a healthy Bill Walton off the bench. This squad was 50-1 at home, regular season and playoffs combined. This Lost Generation of Celtics fans need no longer slap on their headphones and begin rolling their eyes when the smug followers of champions 1 through 16 begin rhapsodizing about the virtues of their favorite Celtics squads of yore. Their team, No. 17, can compete with any that has ever worn the Green and White.
3.13.2008
Hondo's Take on Three-Pointers
Havlicek, Boston's first 20,000-point scorer, scored all of his 26,395 points for the Celtics.
Havlicek scored more points for Boston than Larry Bird, Kevin McHale or anyone else, even though he played before the NBA adopted the 3-point shot.
"I really liked the 3-point shot when it first came into being," Havlicek said last night, "but then after about two years, it seemed as though the game that I knew disappeared and everything revolved around the 3-point shot.
"I've been an advocate of not getting rid of it, but only using it in the last two minutes of each quarter."
Havlicek believes limiting 3-point shooting would develop the midrange game, but he doesn't expect the NBA to make any changes.
Havlicek scored more points for Boston than Larry Bird, Kevin McHale or anyone else, even though he played before the NBA adopted the 3-point shot.
"I really liked the 3-point shot when it first came into being," Havlicek said last night, "but then after about two years, it seemed as though the game that I knew disappeared and everything revolved around the 3-point shot.
"I've been an advocate of not getting rid of it, but only using it in the last two minutes of each quarter."
Havlicek believes limiting 3-point shooting would develop the midrange game, but he doesn't expect the NBA to make any changes.
2.24.2008
The Forgotten Big Three (Trivia Answer)
Only five times in NBA history have three players from the same team been earned All-Defensive honors.
1995-96 BULLS Scottie Pippen, Dennis Rodman, Michael Jordan
1982-83 SIXERS Maurice Cheeks, Bobby Jones, Moses Malone 1
977-78 TRAIL BLAZERS Lionel Hollins, Maurice Lucas, Bill Walton
1975-76 CELTICS Dave Cowens, John Havlicek, Paul Silas
1969-70 KNICKS Dave DeBusschere, Walt Frazier, Willis Reed
1995-96 BULLS Scottie Pippen, Dennis Rodman, Michael Jordan
1982-83 SIXERS Maurice Cheeks, Bobby Jones, Moses Malone 1
977-78 TRAIL BLAZERS Lionel Hollins, Maurice Lucas, Bill Walton
1975-76 CELTICS Dave Cowens, John Havlicek, Paul Silas
1969-70 KNICKS Dave DeBusschere, Walt Frazier, Willis Reed
12.25.2007
Havlicek's Recruiting Class at Ohio State
Jerry Lucas, Bob Knight, and Hondo
Before transplants arrived to pave Grove City, erect golf-course homes in Dublin and strip-and-mall whatever was left in-between, Columbus was an oasis in a cornfield, a one-skyscraper town poised to annex. Back then, even more than now, Ohio State University was the center of it all. The city's soul was wrapped in pigskin, and it moved 3 yards at a time, followed by a cloud of dust.
Near the end of this era, in 1958, there arrived a recruiting class for the ages.
Curiously, this class was a cache of basketball players.
After Mel Nowell, the smart point guard from East High School, the rest were harvested from Ohio's fields. There were two high-scoring perimeter players, Bob Knight and Gary Gearhart. There was the most famous schoolboy player in America, center Jerry Lucas. And there was John Havlicek.
As sophomores and led by Lucas, this class propelled the Buckeyes to their first and only NCAA basketball championship, in 1960. During their three years of eligibility, they won three Big Ten titles, made three consecutive appearances in the national championship game and amassed a record of 78-6.
"One thing about that team: We had a 3.4 grade-point average one grade period," Havlicek said. "Everyone graduated. Seven went on to get master's, two Ph.D.s, two MDs. All but one of us were from Ohio."
Havlicek was part and parcel of an era, and he was quintessential Ohio. He was reared in a small town and taught the value of honest labor. He was steeped in humility just as he was pointed to the highest strata of sport. He got every ounce out of his mind and body, gained fame and fortune and then aged gracefully, without changing.
He was John Glenn in Chuck Taylor tennis shoes.
Three-sport star
Havlicek's parents were immigrants of Czech and Croatian ancestry. They owned a grocery store in the tiny town of Lansing, hard by the Ohio River on the eastern edge of the state. Lansing was dissected by a busy highway, and given the dangers of this thoroughfare, little Johnny was not allowed a bicycle.
Without wheels, the kid ran everywhere.
"I'd say John was a better athlete than a basketball player," said Larry Siegfried, the excellent junior guard on the 1960 Ohio State team. "My God, he could run."
Havlicek was all-state in football, baseball and basketball at Bridgeport High. He found his greatest fame on the gridiron, as happens in steel country. He was an option quarterback who was said to throw an 80-yard pass. Woody Hayes was aware.
In fact, Hayes had a plan to put Havlicek at quarterback in a backfield that would include Tom Matte at halfback and Bob Ferguson at fullback.
"I had four visits to Ohio State and three were for football," Havlicek said, "I told Woody I wanted to play basketball. Woody said, 'You're the kind of kid we want on the basketball team, so I'll help Freddy (Taylor) recruit you.' And that's what he did. And Matte wound up playing quarterback."
Matte led the Buckeyes through two fair-to-middling seasons. Joe Sparma took the quarterback duties in 1961, when the Buckeyes went 8-0-1 and won the Big Ten but a faculty council turned down an invitation to the Rose Bowl because, the council felt, football was getting bigger than academics.
Havlicek could have been a football hero.
"I never regretted my decision," Havlicek said, "but I've always wondered what would have happened if I played quarterback at Ohio State. Of course, you can look at it the other way, too."
Lucas and Co.
After powering Middletown to two state high-school titles, Lucas had 150 scholarship offers. He told recruiters to leave him alone until his senior season was completed. He wasn't kidding. When Adolph Rupp knocked on the door to his English class, Lucas politely told Rupp and his entourage to leave and then crossed Kentucky off his list.
Lucas knew he would end up at Ohio State because Taylor was the only one who wanted to discuss academics with recruits. When Lucas committed, Havlicek and others were prepared to follow the famed center.
"John and I played on a number of All-Star teams together, and his talent was plain to me," Lucas said. "But he was coming up from a small school and didn't think he was good enough. I had to convince him to come to Ohio State."
Fear, Havlicek once said, drove him to improve and compelled him to defeat complacency. It's probably what fed him as a wide-eyed lad of 18 as he faced incredible competition.
"After playing All-Star games with some of those guys, I thought I could play," Havlicek said. "But this was a big, new world. You're going to always have some apprehension when you have no yardstick, nothing to judge yourself by. You throw yourself in, not sure what'll happen next."
In those days, freshmen were not eligible to play varsity, or even play off-campus games against other freshman teams. What they did was scrimmage against the junior varsity and varsity teams.
"The freshmen were better than the varsity," Lucas said. "Maybe not initially, but it wasn't long into the year before we beat them. By the end of the year, we beat them by 40 points. We played the JV team before home games and St. John Arena was full. Some people even left after the freshman game. They didn't watch the varsity."
Havlicek took stock. Lucas was locked in at center. Heck, the offense was restructured for Lucas before he was even eligible. Nowell would be the starting point guard, no doubt about that. Siegfried, Dick Furry and Joe Roberts -- three future pros -- were upperclassmen who would eat up playing time at small forward and shooting guard. Knight and Gearhart, fellow freshmen, were pure scorers.
"Fred was preaching defense," Havlicek said. "It was going to be a staple. Fred said, 'There are nights when you're not going to shoot well, and defense can sustain you.' I took notice. It was a part of the game not too many people took notice of. I said to myself, 'This is a way I can make the team.' "
That championship season
Lucas, agile and expressionless, machine-like and yet artful, was the instant star of the 1959-60 team. The Buckeyes led the nation in scoring with a 90.5-point average. Havlicek became a starter after one game and never surrendered his position. He played defense with unflagging gusto.
"He ran all the time," coaching legend Pete Newell remembered. "He never seemed to get tired. If the guy guarding him started to take short cuts, well, God help him then."
The Buckeyes lost three games -- on the road to Kentucky, Utah and Indiana -- early in the season. They managed to beat Indiana in St. John on a last-second shot by Siegfried to ensure themselves the Big Ten title and a trip to the NCAA Tournament. It was a 16-team tournament then, and the Buckeyes rolled through it.
In the championship game, they were matched against the No. 1 defensive team in the land, Newell's California Golden Bears, who'd beaten Cincinnati and Oscar Robertson in the semifinals.
The Buckeyes made 16 of 19 shots from the field in the first half and pushed their lead to 37-19. The interesting twist came on the other end of the court. Taylor, known for his great touch with offense, had picked Newell's brain about defense a year earlier. In this game, Taylor used the tactics he learned to beat his teacher. Cal's weakest shooter was left isolated, the passing lanes were closed and the Bears were shut down. Havlicek had a lot to do with it. Final score: Ohio State 75-55.
"They were a smart team," Newell said, "they were a close team, and they were on a mission."
Havlicek said, "Those teams were fundamentally sound and meshed perfectly. We never even called a play. Even though the offense wasn't designed for me to score, I knew I'd get my garbage."
Havlicek emerges
The blessed group of sophomores became juniors, and they made it back to the championship game. They lost to Cincinnati 70-65 in overtime. They went 27-1. As seniors, they again made it back to the championship game. They lost again to Cincinnati 71-59.
Bearcats coach Ed Jucker, a schemer with a slow-down style, pinned his strategy on taking Havlicek away from the basket. Jucker knew Havlicek would guard his leading scorer, so Jucker left Ron Bonham standing at midcourt -- and Havlicek stayed with him. Havlicek couldn't rebound.
Jucker hoped that his center, bruiser Paul Hogue, could effectively counter Lucas. The Bearcats won in a shocker in '61. They romped in '62, when Lucas was playing on a severely damaged knee. Again, the admitted key was taking Havlicek out of the mix.
As a senior, Havlicek averaged 17 points and 10 rebounds and was a first-team All-American. Still, the large shadow of Lucas made Havlicek a relatively questionable commodity.
"I heard people say, 'Do you really think John can make it to the NBA?' "Lucas said. "These were supposedly knowledgeable people and they said these things because John was not a prolific scorer.
"Anybody who really knew the game had no doubt. I had no doubt whatsoever."
Havlicek was drafted in the first round by the Boston Celtics. Coach Red Auerbach saw something. He liked Havlicek's defense and winning pedigree, but that was only the start of it. Auerbach was the first coach to copiously utilize a sixth man, and he pictured Havlicek as the perfect player for that role.
There was a catch: Havlicek earned three basketball letters, two baseball letters and a degree at Ohio State. He was also drafted by the NFL's Cleveland Browns as a receiver, despite not having played football in four years. Coach Paul Brown saw something.
"The football season only had 12 games back then," Havlicek said. "I figured I'd miss 16 games with the Celtics, so why not play both? I'd give it a year, see how it was and make a decision."
There was more money, and a new car for a signing bonus, in the NFL. Havlicek set his sights on making the Browns. The team had Ray Renfro, Gary Collins and other entrenched receivers. In comes Havlicek, testing himself in a new realm, driven by fear and running, running, running.
He nearly pulled it off. He was the very last cut of training camp in 1962. He was bitterly disappointed, but not to the point where he would accept another invitation to Browns camp. And he had six more invitations.
"I figured the good Lord was telling me something," Havlicek said.
To Boston and beyond
Havlicek played 16 NBA seasons and won eight championships with the Celtics. He was 13 times an All-Star. When he retired in 1978, he was the league's career leader in games played, and was third in points scored and second in playoff points.
"Early on, Red said to me, 'You can't let them insult you by playing off you -- you've got to shoot,' " Havlicek said. "That's all I needed to hear."
His numbers still hold up well after 27 years. Here's the list of NBA players with more career points than Havlicek's 26,395: Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Karl Malone, Michael Jordan, Moses Malone, Elvin Hayes, Hakeem Olajuwon, Oscar Robertson and Dominique Wilkins. Here's the list of players with more playoff points than Havlicek's 3,776: Jordan, Abdul-Jabbar, Karl Malone, Jerry West, Shaquille O'Neal and Larry Bird.
Time ought to march backward today. It should pause in 1960, when Columbus was a one-skyscraper town, an oasis in a field of corn. Buzz your hair, cover your bellybuttons and reflect on Havlicek.
He was recruited by Taylor, drafted by Auerbach and Brown. He moved out from the shadow of Lucas, then eventually from the shadow of Bill Russell. He won nine titles in 19 years and did it by the sweat of his brow, always running, driven by the fear of not being his very best. What scared him was the alternative, mediocrity.
He is the quintessential Ohio athlete. It all started there.
Before transplants arrived to pave Grove City, erect golf-course homes in Dublin and strip-and-mall whatever was left in-between, Columbus was an oasis in a cornfield, a one-skyscraper town poised to annex. Back then, even more than now, Ohio State University was the center of it all. The city's soul was wrapped in pigskin, and it moved 3 yards at a time, followed by a cloud of dust.
Near the end of this era, in 1958, there arrived a recruiting class for the ages.
Curiously, this class was a cache of basketball players.
After Mel Nowell, the smart point guard from East High School, the rest were harvested from Ohio's fields. There were two high-scoring perimeter players, Bob Knight and Gary Gearhart. There was the most famous schoolboy player in America, center Jerry Lucas. And there was John Havlicek.
As sophomores and led by Lucas, this class propelled the Buckeyes to their first and only NCAA basketball championship, in 1960. During their three years of eligibility, they won three Big Ten titles, made three consecutive appearances in the national championship game and amassed a record of 78-6.
"One thing about that team: We had a 3.4 grade-point average one grade period," Havlicek said. "Everyone graduated. Seven went on to get master's, two Ph.D.s, two MDs. All but one of us were from Ohio."
Havlicek was part and parcel of an era, and he was quintessential Ohio. He was reared in a small town and taught the value of honest labor. He was steeped in humility just as he was pointed to the highest strata of sport. He got every ounce out of his mind and body, gained fame and fortune and then aged gracefully, without changing.
He was John Glenn in Chuck Taylor tennis shoes.
Three-sport star
Havlicek's parents were immigrants of Czech and Croatian ancestry. They owned a grocery store in the tiny town of Lansing, hard by the Ohio River on the eastern edge of the state. Lansing was dissected by a busy highway, and given the dangers of this thoroughfare, little Johnny was not allowed a bicycle.
Without wheels, the kid ran everywhere.
"I'd say John was a better athlete than a basketball player," said Larry Siegfried, the excellent junior guard on the 1960 Ohio State team. "My God, he could run."
Havlicek was all-state in football, baseball and basketball at Bridgeport High. He found his greatest fame on the gridiron, as happens in steel country. He was an option quarterback who was said to throw an 80-yard pass. Woody Hayes was aware.
In fact, Hayes had a plan to put Havlicek at quarterback in a backfield that would include Tom Matte at halfback and Bob Ferguson at fullback.
"I had four visits to Ohio State and three were for football," Havlicek said, "I told Woody I wanted to play basketball. Woody said, 'You're the kind of kid we want on the basketball team, so I'll help Freddy (Taylor) recruit you.' And that's what he did. And Matte wound up playing quarterback."
Matte led the Buckeyes through two fair-to-middling seasons. Joe Sparma took the quarterback duties in 1961, when the Buckeyes went 8-0-1 and won the Big Ten but a faculty council turned down an invitation to the Rose Bowl because, the council felt, football was getting bigger than academics.
Havlicek could have been a football hero.
"I never regretted my decision," Havlicek said, "but I've always wondered what would have happened if I played quarterback at Ohio State. Of course, you can look at it the other way, too."
Lucas and Co.
After powering Middletown to two state high-school titles, Lucas had 150 scholarship offers. He told recruiters to leave him alone until his senior season was completed. He wasn't kidding. When Adolph Rupp knocked on the door to his English class, Lucas politely told Rupp and his entourage to leave and then crossed Kentucky off his list.
Lucas knew he would end up at Ohio State because Taylor was the only one who wanted to discuss academics with recruits. When Lucas committed, Havlicek and others were prepared to follow the famed center.
"John and I played on a number of All-Star teams together, and his talent was plain to me," Lucas said. "But he was coming up from a small school and didn't think he was good enough. I had to convince him to come to Ohio State."
Fear, Havlicek once said, drove him to improve and compelled him to defeat complacency. It's probably what fed him as a wide-eyed lad of 18 as he faced incredible competition.
"After playing All-Star games with some of those guys, I thought I could play," Havlicek said. "But this was a big, new world. You're going to always have some apprehension when you have no yardstick, nothing to judge yourself by. You throw yourself in, not sure what'll happen next."
In those days, freshmen were not eligible to play varsity, or even play off-campus games against other freshman teams. What they did was scrimmage against the junior varsity and varsity teams.
"The freshmen were better than the varsity," Lucas said. "Maybe not initially, but it wasn't long into the year before we beat them. By the end of the year, we beat them by 40 points. We played the JV team before home games and St. John Arena was full. Some people even left after the freshman game. They didn't watch the varsity."
Havlicek took stock. Lucas was locked in at center. Heck, the offense was restructured for Lucas before he was even eligible. Nowell would be the starting point guard, no doubt about that. Siegfried, Dick Furry and Joe Roberts -- three future pros -- were upperclassmen who would eat up playing time at small forward and shooting guard. Knight and Gearhart, fellow freshmen, were pure scorers.
"Fred was preaching defense," Havlicek said. "It was going to be a staple. Fred said, 'There are nights when you're not going to shoot well, and defense can sustain you.' I took notice. It was a part of the game not too many people took notice of. I said to myself, 'This is a way I can make the team.' "
That championship season
Lucas, agile and expressionless, machine-like and yet artful, was the instant star of the 1959-60 team. The Buckeyes led the nation in scoring with a 90.5-point average. Havlicek became a starter after one game and never surrendered his position. He played defense with unflagging gusto.
"He ran all the time," coaching legend Pete Newell remembered. "He never seemed to get tired. If the guy guarding him started to take short cuts, well, God help him then."
The Buckeyes lost three games -- on the road to Kentucky, Utah and Indiana -- early in the season. They managed to beat Indiana in St. John on a last-second shot by Siegfried to ensure themselves the Big Ten title and a trip to the NCAA Tournament. It was a 16-team tournament then, and the Buckeyes rolled through it.
In the championship game, they were matched against the No. 1 defensive team in the land, Newell's California Golden Bears, who'd beaten Cincinnati and Oscar Robertson in the semifinals.
The Buckeyes made 16 of 19 shots from the field in the first half and pushed their lead to 37-19. The interesting twist came on the other end of the court. Taylor, known for his great touch with offense, had picked Newell's brain about defense a year earlier. In this game, Taylor used the tactics he learned to beat his teacher. Cal's weakest shooter was left isolated, the passing lanes were closed and the Bears were shut down. Havlicek had a lot to do with it. Final score: Ohio State 75-55.
"They were a smart team," Newell said, "they were a close team, and they were on a mission."
Havlicek said, "Those teams were fundamentally sound and meshed perfectly. We never even called a play. Even though the offense wasn't designed for me to score, I knew I'd get my garbage."
Havlicek emerges
The blessed group of sophomores became juniors, and they made it back to the championship game. They lost to Cincinnati 70-65 in overtime. They went 27-1. As seniors, they again made it back to the championship game. They lost again to Cincinnati 71-59.
Bearcats coach Ed Jucker, a schemer with a slow-down style, pinned his strategy on taking Havlicek away from the basket. Jucker knew Havlicek would guard his leading scorer, so Jucker left Ron Bonham standing at midcourt -- and Havlicek stayed with him. Havlicek couldn't rebound.
Jucker hoped that his center, bruiser Paul Hogue, could effectively counter Lucas. The Bearcats won in a shocker in '61. They romped in '62, when Lucas was playing on a severely damaged knee. Again, the admitted key was taking Havlicek out of the mix.
As a senior, Havlicek averaged 17 points and 10 rebounds and was a first-team All-American. Still, the large shadow of Lucas made Havlicek a relatively questionable commodity.
"I heard people say, 'Do you really think John can make it to the NBA?' "Lucas said. "These were supposedly knowledgeable people and they said these things because John was not a prolific scorer.
"Anybody who really knew the game had no doubt. I had no doubt whatsoever."
Havlicek was drafted in the first round by the Boston Celtics. Coach Red Auerbach saw something. He liked Havlicek's defense and winning pedigree, but that was only the start of it. Auerbach was the first coach to copiously utilize a sixth man, and he pictured Havlicek as the perfect player for that role.
There was a catch: Havlicek earned three basketball letters, two baseball letters and a degree at Ohio State. He was also drafted by the NFL's Cleveland Browns as a receiver, despite not having played football in four years. Coach Paul Brown saw something.
"The football season only had 12 games back then," Havlicek said. "I figured I'd miss 16 games with the Celtics, so why not play both? I'd give it a year, see how it was and make a decision."
There was more money, and a new car for a signing bonus, in the NFL. Havlicek set his sights on making the Browns. The team had Ray Renfro, Gary Collins and other entrenched receivers. In comes Havlicek, testing himself in a new realm, driven by fear and running, running, running.
He nearly pulled it off. He was the very last cut of training camp in 1962. He was bitterly disappointed, but not to the point where he would accept another invitation to Browns camp. And he had six more invitations.
"I figured the good Lord was telling me something," Havlicek said.
To Boston and beyond
Havlicek played 16 NBA seasons and won eight championships with the Celtics. He was 13 times an All-Star. When he retired in 1978, he was the league's career leader in games played, and was third in points scored and second in playoff points.
"Early on, Red said to me, 'You can't let them insult you by playing off you -- you've got to shoot,' " Havlicek said. "That's all I needed to hear."
His numbers still hold up well after 27 years. Here's the list of NBA players with more career points than Havlicek's 26,395: Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Karl Malone, Michael Jordan, Moses Malone, Elvin Hayes, Hakeem Olajuwon, Oscar Robertson and Dominique Wilkins. Here's the list of players with more playoff points than Havlicek's 3,776: Jordan, Abdul-Jabbar, Karl Malone, Jerry West, Shaquille O'Neal and Larry Bird.
Time ought to march backward today. It should pause in 1960, when Columbus was a one-skyscraper town, an oasis in a field of corn. Buzz your hair, cover your bellybuttons and reflect on Havlicek.
He was recruited by Taylor, drafted by Auerbach and Brown. He moved out from the shadow of Lucas, then eventually from the shadow of Bill Russell. He won nine titles in 19 years and did it by the sweat of his brow, always running, driven by the fear of not being his very best. What scared him was the alternative, mediocrity.
He is the quintessential Ohio athlete. It all started there.
11.12.2007
1972-73 Celtics Start 10-0
1972-73 Regular Season
10/11/1972 BOS at Detroit Pistons 121-108 1-0
10/13/1972 BOS Los Angeles Lakers 112-104 2-0
10/14/1972 BOS at Chicago Bulls 96-88 3-0
10/17/1972 BOS at Atlanta Hawks 119-115 4-0
10/20/1972 BOS Buffalo Braves 126-118 5-0
10/21/1972 BOS at Baltimore Bullets 104-101 6-0
10/23/1972 BOS Philadelphia 76ers 105-85 7-0
10/24/1972 BOS at Buffalo Braves 105-97 8-0
10/27/1972 BOS Cleveland Cavaliers 123-97 9-0
11/3/1972 BOS Baltimore Bullets 109-96 10-0
10/11/1972 BOS at Detroit Pistons 121-108 1-0
10/13/1972 BOS Los Angeles Lakers 112-104 2-0
10/14/1972 BOS at Chicago Bulls 96-88 3-0
10/17/1972 BOS at Atlanta Hawks 119-115 4-0
10/20/1972 BOS Buffalo Braves 126-118 5-0
10/21/1972 BOS at Baltimore Bullets 104-101 6-0
10/23/1972 BOS Philadelphia 76ers 105-85 7-0
10/24/1972 BOS at Buffalo Braves 105-97 8-0
10/27/1972 BOS Cleveland Cavaliers 123-97 9-0
11/3/1972 BOS Baltimore Bullets 109-96 10-0
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