The Book of Basketball (59 page)

62.
In ’77, Thompson bumped fellow ABA stars Doc and Gervin to second-team All-NBA. In ’78, he bumped Westphal, Maravich and Walter Davis. Thompson was not messing around.

63.
I included FT attempts per game because it gives you a good idea for how someone was attacking the rim. Average 8 or more and you’re attacking the rim. I love making blanket statements.

64.
Iverson peaked at 25 and not 24. I made the executive decision to bump Iverson’s age down a year because he spent five months in jail and missed his senior year of high school. You know when a boxer gets described as a “young 35,” it’s really code for “he spent 8 years in the joint”? Iverson may have been 25 during the ’01 season, but it was a “young 25.” So there.

65.
Spree and Penny made first-team NBA’s for the first time at 24; Vince made second-team for the only time at 24. If you’re drafting a fantasy team this year, look out for those 24-year-olds!

66.
ACC teams were notorious for overpaying players in the ’70s. The famous Thompson recruiting story (possibly apocryphal): he grew up in Carolina dreaming of playing for UNC, only NC State offered his family boatloads of cash, leading to Dad saying “Yes!” and a devastated Thompson sobbing through the ensuing press conference.

67.
Hermo walked onto the Saders in 1990 like Mark Wahlberg in
Invincible
, only if the ending never happened and Wahlberg had Brian Scalabrine’s game and looked like a beefier Kurt Nimphius. (By the way, these are all compliments. I loved Hermo. Anyone who could go from intramurals to Division I without cutting down his keg party appearances was right in my wheelhouse.) His biggest mistake was missing the Internet by 15 years; I would have absolutely started a
www.airhermo.com
blog and probably gotten kicked out of school. I guarantee he’ll bring this book into a New York City bar within 2 weeks of its release and show 75 complete strangers this footnote, followed by everyone doing a series of shots. Please have one on me, Hermo.

68.
In that same documentary, Issel blamed the pressure of being the “$800,000 Man” for expediting Thompson’s demise: “I think David changed when he got his big contract.” This part was only missing a “Push It to the Limit” montage of Thompson taking friends to the bank, marrying someone while wearing a white tuxedo (à la Tony Montana), then bringing the wedding party over to look at a tiger.

69.
I had Rodman ranked at no. 69 for two months before realizing the unintentional significance.

70.
The ’92 Pistons averaged 44.3 rebounds a game; Rodman grabbed 42% of them. Russell’s highest percentage for one season was 35%; Wilt’s highest was 37%.

71.
Rodman acted up throughout the playoffs, got suspended for a game and removed his sneakers during crunch time in one big moment in the Rockets series. He wasn’t a distraction as much as a dirty bomb. Let’s just say that Madonna (his flame at the time) was a bad influence on him. Also, I think they created four new forms of VD together.

72.
The referee who called Pete’s 5th foul that night? You guessed it—the guy who was serenaded by more “Bull-shit” chants than anyone ever, Mr. Dick Bavetta! Only Dick could help eject someone going for 75 points.

73.
In the 68-point game, Maravich makes six or seven jumpers from three-point range like he’s shooting free throws.

74.
Seeing Maravich on the Celts reminded me of the
White Shadow
episode when street legend Bobby Magnum (played by former UCLA star Mike Warren, who later starred in
Hill Street Blues
and played Preacher in
Fast Break—
now that’s an
IMDb.com
page!) joined Carver High and removed the team’s ceiling for a few days before bookies from Oakland found him, then he tried to steal Coach Reeves’ TV and everything went to shit. By the way, when I say “reminded me,” I mean “reminded me even as it was happening when I was only ten.” Even back then, I was making convoluted comparisons between sports and pop culture.

75.
Press Maravich made Marv Marinovich, Richard Williams and J. D. McCoy’s dad seem like Joey, Danny and Uncle Jesse by comparison. And you thought I was kidding about convoluted comparisons.

76.
Another legend fitting this “lost years” criteria: Bird quit IU as a freshman, spent the next year playing pickup ball and being a garbageman and eventually came back for ISU. He entered the NBA a year later than he should have (maybe two) had he been happy at Indiana.

77.
Grumpy Old Editor: “Monroe’s spin move paved the way for misdirection dribbles of all kinds and arguably changed the way traveling was called, for better or worse.” Um … I say this is a good thing!

78.
Dave DeBusschere told William Goldman once that he watched everyone’s eyes when he defended them, never buying any fakes until they actually looked at the basket … but Pearl was the one guy who never looked at the basket until right when he was releasing the ball, making him impossible to defend. Thought that was interesting.

79.
Indiana signed English as a free agent and stupidly traded him for George McGinnis. That was one of my favorite makeup trades ever—the previous year, Denver had stupidly traded Bobby Jones for McGinnis. Poor McGinnis was like the shittiest gift in a Yankee swap; you never wanted to be the one who ended up with him at the end of the night.

80.
These were the days when newspapers ran box scores with FGs made, FTs made, total points and that was it. Ryan’s favorite “Dantley” ever: “9–28–46.” When Kevin Durant went 24-for-26 from the line in a 46-point effort against the Clips in January ’09, I immediately thought, “That’s a great Dantley!”

81.
The worst of the deals: L.A. gave him away for a washed-up Spencer Haywood right before Magic’s rookie year, Dantley averaged 28 in Utah, L.A. won the title anyway, and Haywood didn’t make an impact other than probably snorting the most lines at Jack Nicholson’s house that season.

82.
The plot for
Chuck:
An annoying Little League star (Chuck) stops pitching because he’s concerned about the threat of nuclear war. Inspired by Chuck’s noble stance, a few famous professional athletes (led by Amazing Grace, played by English) decide to stop playing as well until some antiweapon legislation is passed or something. By the end of the movie, you’re actually rooting for a nuclear holocaust just so Chuck will die. It’s that bad.

83.
Dantley was listed at six foot five. No way. Dennis Johnson was two inches taller.

84.
I couldn’t pick between them. Sorry. So yes, it’s actually a thirteen-player team with a three-man injured list, impossible under the current roster rules. Sue me.

85.
Our country is so uptight that this point might be considered racist. Here’s my defense: Manute Bol was fucking purple. I don’t know what else to tell you.

86.
Crazy Spud facts: Did you know he played for 14 seasons? Or that he started for six years—two in Atlanta, four in Sacramento?

87.
Darko should sue Chad Ford for raising everyone’s expectations too high, most famously with a 2002 column (look it up for comedy’s sake) when he printed the following quote from Pistons scout Will Robinson: “That kid’s going to be a star. He’s a 7-footer that plays like a point guard. That kid’s something special.” Also from Robinson: “He’s going to own the game. Own the game. We’re going to have to build a new arena. The only thing that could destroy a kid like that is a woman.” And a lack of talent and confidence. That, too.

88.
That only happened for three people: Bannister, Cadillac and Popeye. They were the Bird, Magic, and MJ of ugly.

89.
Here’s how ugly Steppe was: in high school, I used to sneak one of those Zander Hollander NBA yearbooks (the ones with all the profiles and pictures) into math class, then pull out the page with Steppe’s picture intermittently during math class to crack up my buddy Bish in the back row. Always worked, too.

90.
Strange Lucas fact: his photographic memory was so remarkable that he ended up writing a couple of memory books. There’s a chance he’s memorizing this page right now.

91.
During a supercompetitive ’77–’78 season, Truck averaged an astonishing 23–16 for the Jazz and made first-team All-NBA with Doc, Walton, Thompson and Gervin. Since he bounced around so much (four teams in his first five seasons) and got traded in ’79 while averaging a 22–14, it’s possible Truck got his nickname by threatening to run over his coach in a truck or doing truckloads of blow.

92.
Ray-Ray should have won Finals MVP. I flew back to Boston for Game 6 and sat one row in front of Allen’s father and a family friend. We ended up talking for a few minutes. Mr. Allen complained that Doc Rivers had benched his son too long in Game 5 and said angrily, “He didn’t want him to win Finals MVP, that’s what
that
was about!” Don’t you love when parents are irrational about their kids? There should definitely be a
PTI-
type show where parents of various star athletes argue sports-related topics and eventually turn everything back to irrational arguments about their kids.

93.
That’s my nickname for elite FT shooters who ice games at the line; they’re almost like closers in baseball with how they protect leads. You can’t win a title without a cooler. As Rick Adelman’s Blazers teams will tell you.

94.
That’s the complete list of relevant centers and power forwards who played on Allen’s team from 1999 through 2007. Ray Allen will now light himself on fire.

95.
Three other things I want to see during an NBA game: the wave going in opposite directions (would it cause an earthquake or something?), the arena going dead silent before a key FT attempt from an opponent (would totally psych out the other team), and the crowd rattling an opposing FT shooter by screaming, “The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!”

96.
Three scenes make
Game
kinda-sorta worth it for me: Denzel waxing poetically about Pearl, the Denzel-Jesus game, and the aftermath when a winded Denzel hands the letter of intent to Jesus, who drops it in disgust. The next few seconds were more in Denzel’s wheelhouse than Tim Wakefield trying to sneak a fastball past Albert Pujols. He shakes his head, just a beaten man headed back to prison who needs to get one final message across, finally keeping eye contact with Allen and telling him, “You get that hatred out of your heart, or you’re just gonna end up another nigger … [pause] … like your father.” Now
that
, my friends, is a chill scene.

97.
Two of those exits came at the hands of Reggie Lewis and Boston. In the summer of ’93, Lewis died and MJ went to play baseball; suddenly Miller had gotten rid of his toughest foes in the East. Miller couldn’t have guarded Lewis unless he was allowed to hand-check him with a taser.

98.
A shady call and more evidence that the NBA was determined to get New York in the ’94 Finals. Let’s just say that from 1993 to 2006, the NBA may have dabbled in pro wrestling tactics a little. I tried to sweep it under the rug in this book because that’s what people do when they’re in love with someone: they lie for them. And I love the NBA.

99.
Don’t rule this out.

100.
Then again, Ray Allen would have given his left nut to play with the likes of Rik Smits and Jermaine O’Neal.

101.
Not a footnote as much as an asterisk—that year they stupidly shortened the three-point line. Check out YouTube to see where Reggie fired those back-to-back threes (they were 21-footers at best). That might have been the NBA’s most memorable “we didn’t think this through” panic rule other than the “can’t leave the bench even if your star just got hit by a tire iron right in front of you” rule.

EIGHT
THE PYRAMID: LEVEL 2