DJ Gets the Tough Assignments

May 17, 1984

At one end of Boston Garden's creaky floor, Sidney Moncrief is dribbling a basketball. He prances on his toes like a Lippizaner show horse. His muscles are sleek, promising quickness and the power of someone twice his weight.

There was only one DJ

August 13, 2010

He wasn't always beloved.

Headstrong from the start, he continually tested the patience of Seattle coach Lenny Wilkens to the point where the Sonics were happy to trade him to Phoenix one year removed from being a Finals MVP and a mere weeks after being named to the All-NBA second team. And despite protestations to the contrary, the Suns never would have traded him to Boston three years later had there not been some issues during his time in Phoenix.

Chris Ford: A Big Fan of DJ

Chris Ford, Jr: A Big Fan of DJ

February 9, 1994

DANVERS - As one would expect, the coach's son is a smart player. Like his father, the current coach and former player for the Celtics, Christopher J. Ford Jr. finds the open man and never disrupts the flow. The only part that does not seem to fit is the number on his jersey.

The Strangler Struggles

May 18, 1985

Say what you will about Andrew Toney, that the Boston Strangler has become the Boston Struggler, that Albert DeSalvo, or even Tony Curtis, could play better than the Philadelphia guard has played against the Celtics.

Just don't say what 76er Coach Billy Cunningham did this week, that he is considering benching Toney for today's Game 3 of the Eastern Conference championship series at the Spectrum.

DJ had Boston Strangler Ranked Just Behind MJ

2/27/2007

You think of the late Dennis Johnson, and you can't help but think of Andrew Toney.

They're just names to anybody under 40, two guys who played in the NBA a quarter-century ago, just as the David Stern Era was dawning - you know, in the pre-Jumbotron, pre-indoor-firework, pre-"Rock and Roll (Part Two)" days.

Back then they didn't even have advertising on the scorer's table, which gives those grainy film clips on ESPN Classic a bare-bones, spartan feel.

All they were selling was the game. The competition. What a concept.

A Look at DJ's First Month in Green

November 1984

You can make a case for Magic Johnson, Sidney Moncrief, Isiah Thomas or Michael Jordan, but this typist believes that Dennis Johnson has been the best guard in the league for the first month of the season.

Think about it. Acknowledged as the league's premier defensive guard, DJ has been giving the Celtics 20 points, 6 assists, 5 rebounds and 38 minutes per game, while shooting an astounding (for him) 50 percent from the floor.

He plays with pain and without fear, bringing experience and accomplishment to the Celtic backcourt. His defense is legend, and his newfound outside shot has forced opponents to re-structure their defensive strategy. DJ will be back on the All-Star team this year, and if the players had a vote, he'd probably be starting.

How do they sleep at night in Phoenix? The trade looked lopsided the day it was made, but as the months pass, DJ-for-Rick Robey looks more and more ridiculous. We're talking Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas, Sparky Lyle for Danny Cater, Manhattan Island for trinkets, beads and 20 bucks. Maybe Red Auerbach should ask Jerry Colangelo if the Celtics can get Walter Davis for Greg Kite. It wouldn't be any sillier than the deal they made on June 27, 1983.

The Dennis Johnson Precedent

August 24, 1983

Like a lot of folks, Dennis Johnson has trouble making sense of the pre-draft deal which sent driftwood Rick Robey to the Suns in exchange for one of the NBA's finest guards. DJ is a 6-4, 28-year-old guard who was the MVP of the 1979 playoffs. He's a four-time All-Star and has been named to the league's All-Defensive Team in each of the last five seasons, a feat matched only by Walt Frazier. In his seven NBA seasons, he's averaged 15 points, 4.5 rebounds and 3.5 assists per game while shooting 44 percent from the floor and 77 percent for the line. He missed only 15 of 574 regular-season games since joining Seattle in 1976.

Robey, meanwhile, averaged 14 minutes and 4.2 points per game in 1982-83 and spent the second half of the year in Bill Fitch's doghouse. For reasons still buried in the vast heart of Fitch, Robey ceased to exist after January.

How were the Celtics able to get DJ for Robey?

Most NBA observers still think Phoenix will have the last laugh. Fair or unfair, Johnson has been branded as immature, moody, and a disruptive force. Why else, it is asked, would a player of his talents be traded twice during his prime?

For example, DJ's former coach Lenny Wilkens had plenty of bad things to say about DJ when the Sonics dealt him to Phoenix for Paul Westphal in 1980. Johnson was labeled a pouter. Seattle officials still remember DJ sulking on the sidelines, while his teammates went through a shooting practice a few hours before the Sonics were eliminated from the 1980 playoffs by the Lakers. DJ was traded a month later.

"I talked with Lenny," says Celtics' coach K. C. Jones. "He said he had some difficulties with Dennis out there, but that after the trade Dennis sat down and talked things over in an apologetic tone. As far as I'm concerned DJ comes to play and is a worker. He volunteered to come to this camp."

The Suns claim they've had no trouble selling the trade to their fans. Says Phoenix GM Jerry Colangelo, "we knew we were giving up a very good player in Dennis Johnson, but there were things about his game that didn't necessarily fit in with Phoenix. He has a tendency to pound the ball. He doesn't get the ball up the floor as well as we'd like."

"The trade is past history and there's nothing I can do about it. I have to thank Phoenix for sending me to a championship contender. I know what Boston can do, and with me as an addition, I think I can help take things further.

"I'm ready to go. They're going to get the best of me."

Was George Gervin Better than DJ?

I mean, really, is he?

So Ice won a few scoring titles.

Whoopie.

I just don't see how a one-dimensional guy like Ice gets enough votes for Naismith, while a multidimensional threat like DJ is left to wander the world in purgatory.

This really irks me. The Isiah-DJ discussion is silly by comparison. No one doubts that Isiah was one of the all-time great point guards. But George Gervin was a scorer, pure and simple. That shouldn't be enough to get you into the Hall over players that were multidimensional threats.

While sitting out 3 games due to injury, Gervin's replacement, Ron Brewer, averaged over 30 ppg. When Gervin returned, he scored 40+ points. When asked if he was sending a message, Gervin said, "Just the way the Lord planned it" and added, "Ice be cool" (with Ron Brewer). LINK

Can you see DJ doing something like that? Well, can you?

Yesterday, we read that Magic Johnson called-out DJ as one of the best defenders ever. Even Gervin said that no one defended better than DJ.

DJ Purged Along with the Other Assistant Coaches

May 16, 1997

After starring on the court and showing tremendous promise in his coaching stint, Dennis Johnson is now trying his hand at the waiting game.

While being duly impressed with the way Rick Pitino has quickly established control with the Celtics, DJ, fired last week with the other assistant coaches in the front office purge, is sitting tight until some of the upper echelon coaching changes shake out.

DJ Adds New Dimension to Old Rivalry

January 25, 1984

At a recent practice at Hellenic College, Celtics' legend Red Auerbach tipped his cigar ashes into a paper cup, blew smoke and said, "You know what I think the big difference is? It's No. 3. He's the big difference between this year and last."

Dennis Johnson wears No. 3.

In this emotional joy ride through the first half of the 1983-84 regular season, intangible elements of happiness, harmony and chemistry have been cited as the primary causes of Boston's early success. But while everybody is admitting a preference for the K.C. Jones soft shoe over the Bill Fitch goose step, the addition of Dennis Johnson is often overlooked. As the Celtics prepare for to night's fourth regular-season scrum with the hated Philadelphia 76ers at Boston Garden (7:30), DJ represents the crucial new wrinkle in this five-year long war.

The addition of Johnson was the only major personnel changemade by the Celtics or Sixers in the offseason. Philadelphia is starting the same five players it did in the championship season of 1982-83. On the pine, Sam Williams, Sedale Threatt and Leo Rautins (currently on the injured list) sit where Reggie Johnson, Mark McNamara and Earl Cureton sat last year. In Boston, Rick Robey and Charles Bradley have been replaced by Greg Kite and Carlos Clark, but instead of Tiny Archibald the Celtics have Dennis Johnson starting at guard.

"He gives us something we didn't have," says Auerbach. "He does all the things we hoped Charles Bradley would eventually do. But instead of working on his shot, Charles was admiring his body." Backcourt matchups have been Boston's biggest problem against the Sixers. In DJ, the Celts picked up a four-time All-Star and a five-time member of the NBA's All-Defensive team. When the Celtics play the Sixers, Johnson is asked to contain Boston strangler Andrew Toney while providing new problems for the Sixers on defense.

Toney has scored 19, 18 and 28 points while hitting 50 percent (25 for 50) in three games against the Celts this season. DJ wasn't on the floor at the end of regulation when Toney's three-pointer forced an overtime in the Garden Dec. 4. However, two weeks ago in the Spectrum, when the 76ers trailed by one with 18 seconds left, Philly set up a shot for Julius Erving rather than Toney, who was being guarded by DJ.

"DJ hasn't shut Andrew down, but I don't think anyone is capable of stopping him altogether," says Celtics assistant coach Chris Ford. "Before, there was always an aura of us being leery. We wondered if anybody could contain Andrew. Now, we think we have that. Our players have confidence in DJ, plus he's able to take Toney down low and post him up and maybe get him in foul trouble."

Johnson made his name in the NBA by playing defense, but the Celts see his offensive potential as a critical new weapon against the Sixers. "DJ can really hurt them on the offensive end," notes M.L. Carr. "He gives us another guy that can put pressure on them." Johnson scored 11, 11 and 17 points in the first three Boston-Philadelphia matches, and hasn't been bashful about taking the open jumper or driving to the basket. Both teams figure to be tired tonight. The Celtics traveled from Cleveland to Boston this morning, while the Sixers arrived from last night's game in New York. "Any time these two teams play it's a knock-down, drag-out battle," says Carr. "Down there, Doc (Erving) said they wanted to establish some dominance over them. Now, it's our chance. We want a dominant win."

Was George Gervin Better than DJ?

I mean it. Who was better?

So Ice won a few scoring titles.

Whoopie.

I just don't see how a one-dimensional guy like Ice gets enough votes for Naismith, while a multidimensional threat like DJ is left to wander the world in purgatory.

This really irks me. The Isiah-DJ discussion is silly by comparison. No one doubts that Isiah was one of the all-time great point guards. But George Gervin was a scorer, pure and simple. That shouldn't be enough to get you into the Hall over players that were multidimensional threats.

While sitting out 3 games due to injury, Gervin's replacement, Ron Brewer, averaged over 30 ppg. When Gervin returned, he scored 40+ points. When asked if he was sending a message, Gervin said, "Just the way the Lord planned it" and added, "Ice be cool" (with Ron Brewer). LINK

Can you see DJ doing something like that? Well, can you?

Yesterday, we read that Magic Johnson called-out DJ as one of the best defenders ever. Even Gervin said that no one defended better than DJ.

Magic on DJ: One of the Best Defenders Ever

The Celtics always played a great team defense. But they also had one of the best individual defensive players probably to ever play in the league, that being Dennis Johnson. I had to match up against him. Boy, that was a tough match-up every time.

--Magic Johnson

9-Time All-Defense
6-Finals Appearances
5-Time All-Star
3-Time NBA Champion
2-Time All-NBA
1-Time Finals MVP
Second best guard of his generation (1977-86)

Sounds like Hall of Fame to me. What took Mr. Naismith so long?

Adande on DJ

J.A. Adande

Dennis Johnson and I grew to be friendly enough that I felt comfortable telling him I hated him.

He laughed and took it as a compliment. If I was a teenage Laker fan when he played for the Boston Celtics in the 1980s, he must have been doing something right for me to hate him.

He did more than just "right." He was great -- and a major deterrent to the Lakers. His defense forced Magic Johnson into back-to-back turnovers and killed the Lakers' last hopes in Game 7 of the 1984 NBA Finals. His jump shot won Game 4 of the 1985 Finals and forced the Lakers to head back to Boston Garden to exorcise the demons from their decades of losing to the Celtics.

The height of athletic achievement is to be at your best when it matters most. That applied to Dennis Johnson, a three-time champion, the most valuable player of the 1979 NBA Finals, a man whose career playoff averages exceeded his regular-season numbers.

But what defined his life after his playing days was the ordinary but admirable way he kept, well, showing up, always finding some form of work in the basketball world, never abandoning his dream of being an NBA head coach.

He was an assistant coach with the Celtics. He spent the first three years of this decade with the Clippers, which is how I got to know him. He coached in the CBA. He scouted for the Portland Trail Blazers.

A month ago he popped up in a humorous story on the Internet about the Austin Toros' mascot running onto the court and dunking while the game was being played and the outcome still in doubt. I discovered Johnson was coaching the Toros in the NBA's Development League when he was interviewed in a local TV story about the incident that was linked in the blogs.

Unfortunately, most people learned about Johnson's latest job when they read his obituary last week. He died of an apparent heart attack after a Toros practice Thursday, his life cut short at 52.

The hardest thing to believe is that he won't be showing up anymore. In its own way, his continued persistence was just as admirable as his many clutch performances.

"He was sort of my hero," said Gary Colson, Johnson's coach at Pepperdine, "because of the circumstances."

Johnson was one of 16 children. He was the team's 10th man his senior year at Dominguez High in Compton and he took a year off after high school to work and help the family. He went to L.A. Harbor College, whose coach called Colson to tell him about Johnson.

"We go watch him," Colson said. "He's not great, but he's got some natural ability."

He came to Pepperdine, where he averaged 15.7 points a game in his only season. Colson said Johnson wasn't the best player on the team, just its most resilient.

"During Christmas, his house burns down," Colson said. "His mom and dad get a divorce. She wants to take him out of school, but we convinced her that he should stay in school.

"A few years later they hung his jersey [number] in Boston Garden. The Cinderella story just amazes me."

He did it with a stepsister body. His shoulders sagged, all his weight seemed to collect down by his torso. But if you wanted someone to shut down all the high fliers and quick dribblers, Johnson was the man. Six times on the NBA all-defensive first team, and three times on the second team.

Johnson never averaged 20 points in any of his seasons with the Seattle SuperSonics, Phoenix Suns and Celtics. It's not the numbers that are relevant, it's the memories: Larry Bird never hesitated to give Johnson the ball in crunch time, which is really all you need to know about him.

"He was a complete player," Colson said. "Very consistent. Very steady. He didn't shoot well as a college player, but in the pros he became pretty proficient."

He always overcame, which is why I'm convinced he would have been a good head coach if given a better shot. His lone chance came when he took over the Clippers when Alvin Gentry was fired in 2003. Some opportunity. The team was 19-39, on its way to yet another lottery. A UPS delivery man would've been a better choice, because the players had packed it in. His NBA coaching record stands at 8-16.

The way Johnson discovered he had been relieved of his duties was even less glorious. He was coaching the team's summer league entry, hoping to stick on full time. Every day he received a faxed packet of information from the team. One day the packet mistakenly included terms of a contract offer to Mike Dunleavy. The official phone call didn't come until later that night.

Johnson just held his tongue, said the right things the way he always did. He was a good guy to be around, and the fact he'll never set foot in another NBA arena is the league's loss as much as anything.

He should have already been recognized as the Hall of Famer he was.

DJ in 1985-86: The NBA's Best Big Game Guard?

K.C. Jones was the best basketball coach on the planet yesterday. While Riley inexplicably buried Maurice Lucas (six minutes, none in the second half), Jones went to his second unit and found ways to build a lead with folks named Jerry Sichting, Rick Carlisle and David Thirdkill on the floor. Boston's coach could not miss.

The Celtics' outside shooters were equally torrid. With McHale on the shelf and Parish in foul trouble, the Celtics abandoned their post-up game and kicked the ball around for a succession of wide-open jumpers. DJ (23 points), Scott Wedman, Sichting and Carlisle made LA pay for its sagging defense.

"They do a lot of doubling down low," said Sichting, who drilled four jumpers in the first half. "They gamble and leave guys open. If you've got good ball movement, and you're careful with your passing, you can exploit that."

DJ carried the Celtics in the first quarter. Parish went out after picking up his second foul in the sixth minute, but DJ scored 12 points and gave Boston a 30-29 lead with a short jumper at the end of the period. LA never led the rest of the way.

Carlisle (10 points in 11 minutes) and Wedman shot the Celtics to a five- point lead early in the second. Parish played less than two minutes of the period before picking up his third foul, but it didn't matter. Walton (10 points, 7 rebounds in 26 minutes) was there.

A flurry of ugly incidents marred the second period. First, Byron Scott cracked Sichting wih a forearm shiver. Scott picked up a technical. Then Greg Kite bear-hugged Mike McGee as McGee attempted a layup. James Worthy and Magic gave Kite some lip service before things calmed down.

"It didn't surprise me," said the ever-persecuted Abdul-Jabbar. "They're known as a cheap-shot team."

A buzzer-beating tap-in by Bird gave Boston a 58-55 halftime lead.

DJ (the sport's best big-game guard?) drove the visitors to a 71-59 lead early in the third before Parish picked up two fouls in four seconds and returned to the bench. The Celts closed the quarter with four subs on the floor, and took an 86-80 lead on a three-point play by Thirdkill.

Everything worked for Boston. By the time the fourth quarter started, it was obvious that the dazzling Worthy (35 points) was LA's only offensive threat. Abdul-Jabbar (only two points in the final period) was unable to do anything with Walton, and failed to exploit Parish when the Chief finally reappeared.

Boston led by 10 after Carlisle swished a hideous shot-clock-beating fallaway from the left corner. "It would have been a three-pointer, but my feet are too big (15 1/2) for me to be outside the three-point line and still stay inbounds," joked Carlisle. "I learned the shot from DJ."

LA trimmed the lead to four (100-96) with 3:52 left, but DJ answered with a line-drive jumper from the right corner. Then the Lakers decomposed. They missed 10 consecutive shots, turned it over twice and failed to inbound within five seconds. Is it any wonder that the Forum front-runners fled?

"There's no excuse," said Magic. "They are the better team right now. We've got to get our game together before the play-offs, but right now Boston is a much better team."

Dennis Johnson: A Boston Celtic if Ever there was One

Dennis Johnson: The Neutralizer

The Boston Celtics acquired Dennis Johnson with Philadelphia 76er guard Andrew Toney in mind. Toney, known as the "Boston Strangler" for the number of times his offensive performances sealed the coffin on another Celtics defeat, was, at times, more difficult for Boston to defend than Doc Erving, Moses Malone, or anyone else on the 76er teams of the early and mid-1980s.

Very quickly, DJ reduced Toney's thunder to a dull roar.

But what I remember most about DJ is how helped turn the 1984 championship series around, effectively neutralizing Magic Johnson.

I liked to call him the "Laker Killer."

Bob Ryan described DJ as "Lawrence Taylor in gym shorts."

This video bears out both descriptions.

The look on Pat Riley's face after the DJ game-ending shot in the Finals is priceless (2:50 of the above video).

Dennis Johnson: Lawrence Taylor in Gym Shorts

Bob Ryan

Images. Oh boy, did Dennis Johnson leave us with some images.

I can see him now, bringing the ball upcourt, those cheeks puffing in and out like some mini-Dizzy Gillespie. I can see him calmly dribbling the ball and then suddenly whipping that bullet pass to Larry Bird on the baseline for an easy two.

I can see him posting up some poor physically overmatched guard, making that turnaround jumper -- on which I swear he was a 70 percent lifetime shooter -- in situations big and small. I can see him lowering that shoulder and blasting to the basket like Larry Csonka heading into the end zone. Could this man drive. "I know DJ thinks it's a big game when he's taking it to the basket," Bird always said.

And who will ever forget the sight of DJ at the free throw line, first bouncing the ball low and hard once for each year he had spent in the league, then taking a deep breath and then softly tossing the ball into the basket? That trademark bounce-per-year ritual will always set DJ apart. Who would dare horn in on that unique statement?

The twists and turns of DJ's career included aspects unknown to the Boston fan. I was privileged, for example, to have an up-close-and-personal look at a Dennis Johnson that perhaps you never really got to see. That would be the frisky young late-'70s Dennis Johnson. The prevailing portrait of the Boston DJ was that of the serious, seasoned, cagey, energy-conserving veteran. By the time DJ was concluding his career, it was impossible for the Boston fan to envision him as a pup.

But the young DJ was a monster on the court. I have never, and I mean never, seen anyone play attacking defense the way Dennis Johnson did for the Sonics in the 1979 Finals against Washington. On a team featuring Jack Sikma, Lonnie Shelton and the mercurial Gus Williams, the riveting presence was Dennis Johnson, who not only averaged 23 points a game in his inimitable little-of-this, little-of-that fashion, but who also played a marauding defense from the big guard spot. There have been many brilliant defensive guards in the 45-year history of the NBA, but the young Dennis Johnson is the only one I would ever describe as destructive.

Among the achievements that earned him the 1979 championship series MVP award were his 11 blocked shots, four of which accompanied his 32-point, 10-rebound overtime effort in Game 4. He was such an imtimidating presence that the Bullets hesitated bringing the ball anywhere near him. He was Lawrence Taylor in gym shorts.

If the true test of a player's greatness is the capacity to adjust and expand his game, then Exhibit A may very well be Dennis Johnson. Remember the stated purpose of his acquisition? He came here as an Andrew Toney deterrent. Yes, indeed. He was the big guard who could score a few points, and in the most important games against the most terrifying individual opponent, he would slay the dragon at the defensive end. Which, by the way, he did.

No one spoke in terms of Dennis Johnson being a lead guard. In fact, the reason Phoenix even made him available was because the Suns thought that in DJ and Walter Davis, they had two non-complementary big guards. Gradually, however, he became a classic floor leader. He became so good at the task of running a team and getting the ball to the right people at the right time that Bird grew wary of playing without him.

But Dennis Johnson had been fooling and impressing people for a long time. He came out of Dominguez High School in Compton, Calif., unburdened by press clippings and bereft of college offers. As the ninth of 16 children, he wasn't going to be allowed to sit around the house, so he went to work, driving a forklift in a warehouse. A year and a half later, he enrolled at Harbor Junior College, and he eventually went up the coast a ways to Pepperdine, where, during his one varsity year, he averaged 15 points a game as an undersized forward.

He applied to the NBA as a hardship case and was drafted in the 1976 second round (the 29th pick) by the Sonics. Bill Russell took a liking to him, and if there is one good thing you can say about Bill Russell as a coach, it's that he never went on reputations. The frisky kid from Pepperdine deserved to play, so Russ played him. A more traditional coach might have ignored this untutored kid.

That launched a professional career that culminates tomorrow night with the raising of DJ's No. 3 to the Garden rafters. Can you imagine what will be going through his mind as he thinks about the frightening might-have-beens in his life? Not many go from forklift to a career that includes a playoff MVP, a spot on the first-team All-NBA squad (1980), five first-team All-Defensive citations, five All-Star Game appearances and, most important of all, three championship rings, the last two earned while playing for the team that honors him now.

You undoubtedly have your favorite DJ memories. Mine would include the totality of Games 4 through 7 in 1984, when DJ scored more than 20 points in each game while guarding Magic Johnson better than anyone else could possibly even conceive of; the many traffic rebounds; the get-out-of-my-way drives; and, of course, the inordinate number of clutch jumpers. It never mattered what he had shot from the floor during the course of a game's first 47 minutes. When other throats were drying up and other palms were getting clammy, DJ would say, "Gimme the ball."

The true legacy of a ballplayer isn't his numbers. What makes for athletic immortality is a style and an image. There are a lot of cookie-cutter players, a whole bunch of reminds-me-of guys. I'm here to say that there is no such thing as a "Dennis Johnson type." There is only Dennis Johnson. Unique Celtic. Unique Man.

Dennis Johnson: The Wrong is Righted

Peter Vecsey

UPON discovering Sunday afternoon that Dennis Johnson wasn't elected to the Hall of Fame as part of this year's exceptionally qualified inductee harvest - Pat Riley, Hakeem Olajuwon, Patrick Ewing, Adrian Dantley , Bill Davidson, Kathy Rush and Dick Vitale (be nice) - I sent the following e-mail to roughly 300 Hoop du Jour (most directly connected to the NBA) subscribers:

"D.J. got stiffed again."

Thirty-seven responded.

"How can there be a basketball Hall of Fame and exclude D. J.?"

"Unfreaking believable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"TERRIBLE!!!!!!!"

"I have no respect for the HOF!"

"That news is so discouraging. What does it take to get him to Springfield?"

"Sorry to hear that, I worked with him, great player, terrific guy, never big timed anyone."

"That defies explanation."

"Amazing D. J. keeps getting slighted!"

"Are these [24] committee members out of their minds? What did D.J. do to earn such non-respect?"

"If D.J. were alive I'd suggest he consult with Susan Lucci to get guidance through this trauma."

Chicago-based agent Mark Bartlestein said it best and speaks for us non-HOF-voters.

"Coaches, organizations and those handing out the honors love to talk about sacrificing personal statistics for the sake of success yet rarely reward it," he said. "Dennis Johnson epitomizes that. He did so many things that effected winning. Many were intangibles. Much of what he did gave his team's superstars the freedom to focus on what they did best.

"No, Dennis Johnson's stats aren't Hall of Fame. But his game was Hall of Fame. You actually have to understand the game to understand that."

DJ Finally Gets In

Former Celtic great Dennis Johnson, who helped Boston to two NBA titles, has been elected to the Naismith Hall of Fame, according to a source close to the Hall. The announcement will come Monday at 11 a.m. from Indianapolis and Johnson will be amongst those tabbed.

LINK

Thanks for the heads up, Matty.

Our work here at The Lex finally gets rewarded!!!

RANT 1, RANT 2, RANT 3, RANT 4, RANT 5, RANT 6, RANT 7, RANT 8

Johnson & Johnson

In Jackie MacMullan's book, When the Game was Ours, she tells the story of how the friendship between Dennis Johnson and Magic Johnson changed after DJ was traded to Boston for Rick Robey in the summer of 1983. Before the trade, the two were fast friends. They dined together. They worked out together. They took a genuine interest in each other, and made time for each other when visiting the other's home turf. Many believed they were the two best guards in the NBA, and so it was only natural that they develop a close bond.

After the trade?

The relationship was pretty much, hello, I'll talk to you later.

Bill Walton and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar said the same thing about their friendship after Walton became a Celtic in 1985. An Auerbachian clipper blew them in opposite directions. It wasn't until the mid-1990s before they started talking again.

I totally understand this.

And so does LeBron James.

That's why he refused to shake hands with Magic players after the Cavs lost to Orlando in the playoffs last season, and James remained unrepentant. This is how sports used to be. I still remember when the Dallas Cowboys lost to the Los Angeles Rams during the regular season in the 1970s. Roger Staubach, the Cowboys' quarterback, did make a point of stopping at mid-field to talk with several Rams' players after the game. But not to shake their hands. He told them that he would "see you jokers again in the playoffs," and if he were them, he wouldn't be looking forward to it.

This is what sports is all about, or at least it used to be. Now when a player like James attempts to explain that sports is a competition, with winning being the only object, and sometimes losing puts you in a less than hospitable mood, people seemed confused, offended even.

What the hell happened?