Retiring Malone’s number is overdue, yet fitting
PHILADELPHIA >> The collection of banners dangling from the Wells Fargo Center ceiling long has been missing one essential piece. Soon, and fittingly, it will be the contributions of Moses Malone that will make the project complete.
Overdue, and overdue for decades, the Sixers have decided to retire the late Malone’s number. And when they tuck the No. 2 banner next to those of Julius Erving, Bobby Jones and Maurice Cheeks before a Feb. 9 game against the Denver Nuggets, the last championship era in Sixers history finally will be properly presented.
And what other order would have been so appropriate?
The final piece. Again. A Hall of Famer, once picked among the top 50 players in NBA history, three times an MVP and 13 times an All-Star, Malone was never without proper recognition. If his ultimate Sixers individual honor was to come late, it will be an accurate reflection of history.
By the time Harold Katz dangled an offer sheet at him in 1982, causing the Houston Rockets to react and ultimately trade their franchise center for Caldwell Jones and a No. 1 draft choice in 1983, the Sixers were becoming known only for dramatic failure. Though blessed with Erving, whose skills literally changed pro basketball history by hastening the NBA-ABA merger, they had played in seven consecutive postseasons, all to the same essential result: Defeat. Three times, they’d lost in the finals. Two other times, they flopped in the Final Four. For 82 games annually, they would be the NBA’s greatest show, typically drawing better on the road than at home. But in the postseason, they lacked what Malone
On the schedule
would finally provide: The self-expectation of greatness.
No one was more convinced of his own ability to dominate than Malone. And never was that on more glowing display than in the moments before the 1981 NBA Finals, when his Houston Rockets were about to play the great Larry Bird-led Celtics. Malone’s proclamation: That he and four friends from his hometown of Petersburg, Virginia, could beat Boston. And even if it happened that he and four Rockets couldn’t complete that job, his confidence resonated.
That attitude, that confidence, and that legendary sweat he would work up trying to prove it all, would be ideal for the Sixers. Katz realized it. And he acted. And from training camp through the 1982-83 regular season, Malone consistently would push the Sixers to victory, one offensive rebound at a time, working, grunting, shedding defenders, trundling to the line, and then doing it all again. The Sixers would win 65 games that season, more than they’d won in any season in that era. They were different. They were stronger. They were ready.
“I remember,” said Brett Brown, at the time just a young fan in Maine, appreciating from afar. “He was just a fierce competitor, and always around the rim. He could just swallow up rebounds. If he missed, he was going to get his own rebound back and put it back up. He was competitive and tough and voiced his opinion.”
Oh, he did that. Famously. On the eve of the
1983 playoffs, Malone was quoted as saying, “Four, four, four.” Even if it may have been meant as a warning that winning three best-of-seven series was a formidable fourgames-at-a-time challenge, it was popularly characterized as a prediction of a 12-game postseason sweep. And since that had been him with the Petersburg Proclamation, well, maybe that’s what he meant. Either way, he made sure the Sixers needed only 13 games to roll to their second championship. They haven’t won one since.
Malone played 21 seasons in the majors, including two in the ABA. Only four were with the Sixers in his prime, though he would mix in a fifth, years later, at the age of
38. So he hardly was a career Sixer, which likely explains why he hadn’t already gained rafters real estate with Erving, Jones, Cheeks, Billy Cunningham, Wilt Chamberlain, Charles Barkley, Dolph Schayes, Hal Greer, Allen Iverson and late, great public address announcer Dave Zinkoff. He was here, then he was gone in a 1985 Draft Day trade swarm that would go horribly wrong for the Sixers. And, yes, Malone would forever be willing to make that point.
But the Sixers will make sure he is remembered, not only by retiring his number, but by erecting a small sculpture of him on the “76ers Legends Walk,” along with statues of other franchise legends outside the Camden practice facility.
“Moses Malone is one of the NBA’s all-time elite players and someone who propelled our organization to great heights,” general manager Elton Brand said. “He embodies what our program is striving to achieve, and he has earned the great honor of having his jersey retired and his sculpture unveiled by the 76ers.”
With the possible exception of Chet Walker, who played the first seven seasons of his Hall of Fame career with the franchise, the Sixers have no more numbers worthy of retirement. Joel Embiid has that level of skill, but will need to show it for a much longer while. So when Malone is so honored, that will be the final such celebration.
It was the best way, it was the poetic way, it was the only way, for that to unfurl.