Celtics’ memories flood back for Walton
Much has been made of Bill Walton taking the “T” train in Boston to practices and games as a living, breathing redwood with the world champion Celtics in the mid-1980s. He and wife Lori traced the same journey for two games in the current NBA Finals against the Warriors.
That’s missing the transportation-choosing point, Walton said.
What about the one time he tried to drive a car?
Walton revs up the storytelling machine as he explains how, with oldest sons Adam and Nathan in tow, he became entombed in Boston traffic along Storrow Drive, mere minutes from the Boston Garden.
This was no Sunday morning sightseeing excursion. He was on the way to a playoff game.
“I’m losing my mind, because I’ve got to get there,” said Walton, leading into Game 6 of the Finals with his Celtics trailing, 3-2. “We weren’t moving at all. The clock is ticking. I’ve got to go. I see a couple of guys walking by. I said, ‘Hey guys, I need some help. Here’s the keys. Will you take the car to the Garden and give it to Jackie in the lot and I’ll get it after the game?’
“We got out, the kids were maybe 10 and 8, and they’re saying, ‘Dad, you’re crazy.’ We left the car with two total strangers and walked. After the game, Jackie was there smiling, ‘Bill, here’s your keys.’ ”
To this day, does Walton know the identity of his gridlock angels?
“Oh, heavens no,” he said.
Nothing better exemplifies the jarring collision of Walton’s West Coast, freethinking-hippy lifestyle with the gritty, concrete landscape of an East Coast city that loves and would do anything for its Celtics.
That’s why Walton literally bought his way into a contract with the basketball-bouncing heartbeat of Boston. The city’s embrace of the Celtics is unconditional and never more so
than the 1985-86 team, with an unforgettable lineup featuring Larry Bird, Kevin McHale, Robert Parish, Dennis Johnson and Danny Ainge.
Walton had grown tired of lack of success with the Clippers, calling his failure to win in hometown San Diego — despite debilitating injuries — his greatest regret.
The exit cost him, emotionally and financially.
“It was a one-way conversation, exceedingly unpleasant,” Walton said of then-Clippers owner Donald Sterling. “There was still a lot of money on that contract that already had been earned. I was not a free agent. Donald said, ‘All that money stays with me.’
“But it was worth it. The Celtics were my boyhood dream team. They didn’t just give me my career back, they gave me my life back with the joy and happiness and fun. To be a part of something special, there’s nothing like that.”
That’s what makes the current series so special for Walton, because it brings all that warmth to the surface — 36 years later.
Walton, an NBA champion with the Trail Blazers in 1977, assumed a new role in Boston. He was no longer a court anchor, as he had been for so many seasons. He was a bench piece, spelling with enough minutes and production to keep McHale and Parish fresh.
In that season, Walton played some of his most inspired basketball, playing a career-high 80 games, hitting a career-best 56.2 percent from the field while averaging 7.6 points and 6.8 rebounds.
Walton, despite his estimate of 27 orthopedic surgeries, the balky feet, a nose broken 14 times, teeth knocked out at least 10 times, was named the NBA’s sixth man of the year.
He relished living history at arm’s length.
“Larry was the best player I played with, by far,” Walton said. “I knew Kevin was terrific, but he turned out to be the second-greatest low-post player I played with or against, after Kareem (Abdul-Jabbar).”
Walton’s immense respect for McHale revealed a startling perspective. The man who was arguably the best college basketball player of all time, a Hall of Famer and NBA champion credits his Celtics teammate with his most unforgettable snapshot.
The pair used to play one-on-one at every practice, rankling coach K.C.
Jones because of how much they seemed to enjoy it. Jones orchestrated a oneon-one contest between the two, bringing in Celtics legends like cigar-chomping Red Auerbach, John Havlicek and Dave Cowens to watch. Teammate Dennis Johnson served as referee.
“And I won,” Walton said. “Beating Kevin, in front of everyone, was the single biggest moment in my basketball career. I had a chance and I made the most of it.”
No character, however, proved more fascinating than Bird. Walton told the story of the local owner of the restaurant Scotch ’N Sirloin routinely begging the superstar to do a commercial, reasoning that the connection would push his business over the top.
Bird, who turned down dozens of endorsement opportunities, said no to the owner again and again. One day, he finally said yes. The only thing he asked for, Walton said, was for his teammates and their families to eat for free.
The observant Walton noticed that Bird always stayed at the restaurant during the scores of postgame gatherings until the end, attempting to stealthily sprinkle $100 bills on the tables for servers.
“Larry had told the owner, if the guys don’t leave enough of a tip, let me know,” Walton said. “Little did we know that (former teammate, current Pacers coach) Rick Carlisle would eat every meal there. He had the teriyaki chicken every time, so Larry started calling him Teriyaki Chicken.’ ”
As the stories flow, it’s easy to understand why Walton cherishes his time in Boston.
Except for the traffic, of course.