Of the 515 men to play for the Celtics, Bill Walton will forever be remembered as one of one
Some may have cherished being a Celtic as much as Walton did. No one could have cherished it more.
INDIANAPOLIS — Basketball-reference.com tells us that exactly 515 men have played at least one game for the Boston Celtics.
For many, and perhaps most, among that fortunate 515, wearing the green and white was a high point of their lives, a treasured time and opportunity.
Some may have cherished being a Celtic as much as Bill Walton did.
No one could have cherished it more.
The stunning news Monday that Walton had died of cancer at age 71 brought a visceral, aching reaction from basketball lovers across generations.
Older fans might best remember Walton, perhaps the greatest college player of all time, from his days as the fulcrum of the later phase of the UCLA dynasty. Or maybe the main memory is of Walton as a young, long-haired NBA champion with the selfless 1977 Portland Trail Blazers, before foot injuries stole him away from the court for far too much time.
Younger fans? They knew him as the perpetually smiling, trippy, tie-dye broadcaster, most recently on ESPN’s Pac-12 broadcasts.
In New England, we best remember him for one delightful flashback of a season, when he thrived for the best single-season basketball team there has ever been.
After a series of lost seasons with the San Diego Clippers, Walton came to the Celtics before the 1985-86 season for Cedric Maxwell after pleading with Red Auerbach to trade for him. As the story goes, Larry Bird was in Auerbach’s office when Walton called. Red asked Larry’s opinion. “You go get that guy,” Bird said.
Red got him, and the basketball union was magical, with hints of a miracle. Walton stayed healthy, playing 80 games, 13 more than he had ever played in a season. Backing up fellow future Hall of Famer Robert Parish, he averaged 7.6 points, 6.8 rebounds, and 2.1 assists in 19 minutes per game, winning Sixth Man of Year and his second NBA championship.
It was pure beauty watching Walton and Bird — two of the game’s best passers and thinkers — work together. Walton savored playing with Bird. “Aside from winning, my favorite moments on the court came when I was out there with Larry Bird,” he wrote in his biography. “It’s safe to say our styles were complementary.”
Walton was the comic foil for that Celtics team. He took pride in leading the “green team” reserves against the storied starting five.
“The practice sessions for the Boston Celtics were incredibly spiritual events,” Walton said in his ESPN “SportsCentury” biography in 2000. “The trash talking and the rivalries and the competition was just incredible.”
Recalled Kevin McHale, his friend and nemesis in practice: “I’d call him up and he’d answer, ‘Headquarters, World Champion Boston Celtics, Bill Walton speaking,’ and I would just start laughing.”
“For me to be revitalized, to have that chance once again that I had lost so many years before,” Walton said, “that’s what made it so special for me.”
Walton played just 10 games in 1986-87, the foot problems ultimately ending his career. By 1990, he had entered broadcasting, including stints at NBC, ABC, CBS, and Fox before settling into his most recent gig calling those West Coast games on ESPN.
He found a particularly enjoyable connection with play-by-play voice Dave Pasch, who mastered the role of the exasperated/bemused straight man while also hanging on to the ropes to keep the broadcast earthbound.
For a much-needed laugh, here are two of Walton’s most amusingly abstract comments:
“Yesterday, we celebrated Sir Isaac Newton’s discovery of gravity. Today, Fabricio Roberto is defying it.”
“When I think of Boris Diaw, I think of Beethoven in the age of the Romantics.”
Who else but Walton would make such connections?
As quirky as he was, Walton’s authenticity was never in doubt, in part because of his candor about the hard times. He acknowledged that severe back problems led to him considering suicide, before a spinal fusion in 2009 eased his pain and restored his zest for life.
I was fortunate enough to talk to Walton twice over the years. The first time was a phone conversation 15 years ago in which we chatted for an hour and I got in maybe three questions, which will surprise no one.
The other time was at an event at the Liberty Hotel in 2016, when members of the Celtics’ 1966, ‘76, and ‘86 championship teams returned to celebrate the anniversaries.
Here’s what he said that night. I hope you hear his voice when you read this.
“I’m Bill. That’s with two L’s. And I’m a proud, loyal, and grateful member of the Boston Celtics. And I couldn’t be more humbled, privileged, or more fortunate than to be here tonight, with all my guys. This was the team, the franchise, that taught me how to love basketball.”
He mentioned that even though he grew up in San Diego, Bill Russell was his favorite player ever, “on and off the court,” and that made him dream of someday playing for the Celtics.
When it happened, it meant more than he could have imagined.
“Red, Larry, the Celtics, Boston, New England, they not only gave me my career back, they gave me my life back,” he said.
“And here I was, I got here, I got to meet all the guys, I got to know all the guys, and they completely reaffirmed everything that I believed in my life.
“So here I was, little Billy chasing that dream. I got to be part of that dream. I just wish it had lasted forever.”
We do too, Bill.
You felt blessed to be here, to have that one magical season. But we were the truly lucky ones. We were so blessed to watch you, an extraordinary Celtic in every sense, forever one of the 515, forever one of one.
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