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The Punch

Page 36

by John Feinstein


  “In a lot of ways this has been a great experience,” he said. “Our young guys have learned a lot, even though they’ve learned it the hard way. In the long run, we’re going to be a lot better because of this. And if someday they come to me and say they don’t want me to coach anymore, that’s fine. I think I can deal with whatever happens and be happy. I don’t worry about the future the way I used to. I’m just happy with where my life is right now.”

  He glanced at the rubber band on his wrist and twirled it. “Whatever happens, I’ll be okay,” he said. “More than okay.”

  He asked about Kermit Washington. “China, huh?” he said. “I’ll bet that’s fascinating.”

  A pause. “I hope he does really well.”

  Because, he is asked jokingly, they’re still married after all these years?

  “Because,” he said, “we’re brothers.”

  Acknowledgments

  Often I have trouble figuring out where to begin when writing acknowledgments, because each book I write requires the cooperation, help, and patience of so many different people in my life. In this case, though, the starting point is both easy and obvious.

  Kermit and Rudy.

  This is their story, and it is not an easy one for either of them to tell or to relive. One might make the point that Kermit Washington had more to gain from cooperating with me since his reputation has been sullied so greatly by those ten awful seconds, but he was fully aware of the fact that I planned to track down everyone involved in the story and that there were going to be people who were not going to say nice things about him. Even so he never blinked.

  Rudy Tomjanovich had every reason not to talk, to simply ask me to go away and leave him alone. Not only did he not do that, but once we began spending time together he was open and honest and talked candidly about the incident and his life, including his battle with alcoholism, knowing full well that talking about it was likely to bring about a spate of headlines in his hometown.

  I will be forever grateful to both of them for allowing me into their lives and for their willingness to relive in detail a chapter both wish they could forget but know they never will.

  The same is true for many others I spoke to, most notably Kevin and Mary Kunnert, neither of whom can understand why they still have to keep living with this story twenty-five years after it happened. When I literally knocked on their door (having been able to track down only an address, but not a phone number), Mary Kunnert, who would have been perfectly entitled to tell me to get lost in a hurry, not only invited me into her home, she sat and talked to me for close to an hour and promised to pass a note to Kevin—who was out of town—for me. Later Kevin spent hours in that same living room going over in detail what I know are painful memories.

  Calvin Murphy hadn’t talked about that night since 1979. He talked at length, emotionally and patiently. So did Mike Newlin, John Lucas, Tom Nissalke, Ray Patterson, Steve Patterson, and Jim Foley. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Tom Abernethy, Jerry West, Stu Lantz, and Chick Hearn also spent considerable time re-creating their memories of that night, as did the two referees, Bob Rakel and Ed Middleton. In the NBA office, I thank Commissioner David Stern and Deputy Commissioner Russ Granik, with special thanks to Russ for tracking down the referees’ reports of that night in the archives. Thanks also to the ever-patient Brian McIntyre, who often seemed to have answers before I asked the questions.

  Thanks also to the following for being so generous with their time: Jack Ramsay, Brent Musburger, Dr. Stanley Abrams, Mark Lindley, Don Chaney, Tom Young, Tom Davis, Joe Boylan, Donald Dell, Michael Cardozo, and Dr. Paul Toffel, who took a great deal of time to try to explain what Rudy went through in terms a non-doctor could understand.

  Others must be singled out, most notably Sophie Tomjanovich and Pat Washington. As with their husbands, talking about everything that has occurred since December 9, 1977, was anything but fun for them. Both not only did so, they answered my questions in great detail without ever snapping or rolling their eyes—responses both would have been entitled to on more than one occasion. I cannot thank them enough.

  I also owe a debt of gratitude to Pete Newell and Red Auerbach. Both are in their eighties now and remember everything. If I had any doubts about Newell’s memory, they were quickly dispelled when he easily ran down the San Diego Rockets’ first eight draft picks in 1970. Auerbach is equally amazing. Both are also great storytellers, a reporter’s dream.

  As is almost always the case, I received considerable help from my colleagues, notably Tommy Bonk, Ted Green, and Rich Levin. Levin has gone straight—he is now publicity director for Major League Baseball—but all three shared their vivid memories of that night and their impressions of the people involved. Bonk was also heroic in helping me track down archival material at the L.A. Times, as was Bernie Miklasz at the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

  Josh Rosenfeld deserves special mention, not only because his memories of Kermit Washington’s AU years were so vivid, but for convincing Abdul-Jabbar to talk to me. Thank you, Josh. Thanks also to J. C. Whipple for digging into the archives at AU on my behalf.

  As mentioned in the introduction, there is not enough I can say here about Tim Frank. He kept the idea alive in my head when a lot of PR people would have been more than willing to let it die, and he tracked down every piece of minutia I asked for, not to mention phone numbers—often multiple times—and archival material in Houston. I was especially touched by the Comets media guide he sent me. Thanks also to Dan McKenna, Tracey Hughes, and Nelson Luis of the Rockets’ PR staff.

  Several other NBA PR people provided invaluable help: John Black and his staff with the L.A. Lakers; Jonathan Supranowitz of the Knicks; Bob Price of the Cavaliers; Tommy Sheppard of the Rockets; Karen Frascona of the 76ers; and Maureen Lewis of the Wizards, who may have been relieved that I was the only reporter who came into her building in the last twelve months without asking for time with Michael Jordan. Wes Seeley should be on the friends list, but as always his research talents were invaluable. And he loves Army basketball.

  Thanks also to Jim Rome, for being smart enough to book Kermit on his radio show after reading the piece in the New York Times, and to his producer, Travis Rogers.

  My friends and family always put up with my rantings and ravings throughout these projects, though I’m not sure why. I’m fortunate that the list of those people is as long as it is. So, thanks again to: Keith and Barbie Drum; Bob and Anne DeStefano; David and Linda Maraniss; Tom and Jill Mickle; Jackson Diehl and Jean Halperin; Bill and Jane Brill; Terry Chili; Tate Armstrong; Mark Alarie (who may show up again someday); Pete Teeley; Bob Novak; Al Hunt; Andy Dolich; Mary Carillo; Doug Doughty; David Teel; Beth Shumway; Beth Sherry-Downes; Erin Laissen; Jesse Markison; Bob Socci; Pete Van Poppel; Frank Davinney; Andrew Thompson; Joe Speed; Jack Hecker; Jim Cantelupe and Tiffany Bauman (mazel tov, Jim); Derek and Christina Klein; Bob Beretta and Mike Albright; Frank Mastrandrea; Roger Breslin; Scott Morse and Phil LaBella; Glenn Hofmann and Jim Marshall; Todd Newcomb and Jon Terry; Mark Maske; Elissa Leibowitz; Michael Wilbon; Tony Kornheiser; Bob Edwards; Ellen McDonnell; Tom and Jane Goldman; Ken and Christina Lewis; Bob Zurfluh (nice job on the parking, Zurf); Mr. Reliable, Bob Morgan; the immortal Hoops Weiss; and, of course, Norbert Doyle, who has inspired each and every one of my books. Send all complaints to him.

  Dave Kindred and Ken Denlinger were my role models twenty-five (gasp!) years ago. They still are. George Solomon was my boss twenty-five years ago. God help us both, he still is.

  Through all the bullying and blackmailing by the Thugs in Bristol, Joe Valerio has remained a steadfast friend. So has Rob Cowan. I miss Dick Schaap.

  Basketball people: All my old Patriot League pals—and they know who they are: Tommy Amaker, Mike Brey, Gary Williams, Mike Krzyzewski, Mike Cragg, Doug Wojcik, Billy Hahn, Skip Prosser, Dave Odom, Roy Williams, Rick Barnes.

  Golf folks: Paul Goydos and Brian Henninger (still my guys), Dan Forsman, Mike Muehr, David B. Fay, Frank Hannigan, Mike Purkey,
Jim Frank, and Glenn Greenspan. John Morris was one of the gutsiest people I’ve ever known, second perhaps only to Kitty Morris.

  Swimmers: Jeff Roddin, Tom Denes, Penny Bates, Carole Kammel, John Craig, Dan Rudolph, Paul Doremus, Dave Harmon, Mary Dowling, Jeri Ramsbottom, Susan Williams, Amy Weiss, Doug Chestnut, Peter Ward, Warren Friedland, Marshall Greer, Margot Pettijohn, A. J. Block, Danny Pick, and Mark Pugliese. Special kudos as always to Shelley Crist, for surviving another year with Jason. And, of course, my fellow FWRH’s (twice!), Clay Britt, Wally Dicks, and Michael Fell.

  The China Doll gang: Red Auerbach, Morgan Wootten, Jack Kvancz, Aubrey Jones, Sam Jones, the always gentle Hymie Perlo, Pete Dowling, Bobby Campbell, Stanley Copeland, Alvin Miller, Rob Ades (get off the phone!), and Zang Auerbach, whom I can almost always set my clock by.

  Thanks also at Little, Brown to Shannon Byrne, Heather Fain, Heather Rizzo, Michael Mezzo, and Stacey Brody. Extra thanks to Ryan Harbage, who ran down every request, no matter how ludicrous. Holly Wilkinson has patiently dealt with me for almost eight years. If she thinks retiring to raise her family will allow her to be rid of me, she has another think coming. At ICM, Jack Horner and Judith Schell put up with me for a long time, and now Andy Barzvi and Christine Bausch are doing the same.

  I usually end with my family, but I am going to change that tradition this time around, not because they mean any less to me. Mary and Danny and Brigid make everything else in my life worthwhile, and we are all fortunate to be surrounded by members of our families: Jim and Arlene; Dad and Marcia; Margaret, David, and Ethan; Bobby, Jennifer, Matthew, and (the newest arrival) Brian; Kacky, Stan, and Annie; Annie, Gregg, Rudy, Gus, and Harry; Jim and Brendan.

  And finally (applause all around) a few more words on Michael Pietsch and Esther Newberg. To call them an editor and an agent, even though accurate, is entirely misleading. They are friends I rely on constantly. They have dealt with my foibles and eccentricities for years and listen patiently when I come up with crazy ideas. Most important, when I really didn’t know what the hell to do in January of 2001 and was feeling guilty and confused about abandoning a project I knew they both wanted to see happen, they were 100 percent supportive. I am so damn lucky that they are a part of my life, both professionally and personally.

  —John Feinstein

  Bethesda, Maryland

  June 2002

  A note about the author

  John Feinstein is the author of several bestselling books, including books on basketball (A Season on the Brink, A March to Madness, The Last Amateurs), golf (A Good Walk Spoiled, The Majors, Open: Inside the Ropes at Bethpage Black), football (A Civil War: Army vs. Navy), and other sports. He is a commentator on National Public Radio and an essayist for CBS Sports. He is also a columnist for America Online and Golf magazine and a contributor to the Washington Post and the Wall Street Journal. He lives in Bethesda, Maryland, and Shelter Island, New York.

  Look for these other bestselling books by

  John Feinstein

  The Last Amateurs

  Playing for Glory and Honor

  in Division I College Basketball

  “Feinstein’s descriptions of the games are intense and exciting.”

  —Conrad Bibens, Houston Chronicle

  “There are numerous behind-the-scenes anecdotes that keep the pages turning.”

  —Larry Platt, Wall Street Journal

  “You’ll be glued to the page…. Feinstein makes you care.”

  —Bruce Fretts, Entertainment Weekly

  A March to Madness

  The View from the Floor in the

  Atlantic Coast Conference

  “A basketball junkie’s nirvana.”

  —Charles Hirshberg, Sports Illustrated

  “A meticulously detailed account of a season of college basketball.… Full of insider’s jargon, the drama of personal rivalries, the melodrama of hard-fought contests…. Fans will find everything in this book.”

  —Richard Bernstein, New York Times

  A Good Walk Spoiled

  Days and Nights on the PGA Tour

  “The golf tour’s true heart…. Feinstein gets it right.”

  —New York Times Book Review

  The Majors

  In Pursuit of Golf’s Holy Grail

  “The ultimate insider’s account…. Feinstein examines the hearts and minds of the best players in the world to find what it takes to win the game’s most prestigious events.”

  —Golf Tips

  “Another major triumph for John Feinstein….If you want to know how touring pros think, this is the book.”

  —Dave Anderson, New York Times Book Review

  Open

  Inside the Ropes at Bethpage Black

  Coming in paperback in spring 2004

  “When it comes to detailing the life of the professional golfer, there is none finer than John Feinstein.”

  —Everett J. Merrill, Philadelphia Inquirer

  A Civil War: Army vs. Navy

  A Year Inside College Football’s Purest Rivalry

  “An excellent book….With Army-Navy, you always get your money’s worth.”

  —Wall Street Journal

  “Not only entertaining but also inspiring.”

  —Henry Kisor, Chicago Sun-Times

  “Compelling….A fast-paced account full of insights and interesting characters.”

  —Jim Shea, Hartford Courant

  “Highly readable…. Feinstein is an outstanding chronicler of the game as a game.”

  —Clay Reynolds, Houston Chronicle

  “A winner for everyone who is a fan of college ball.”

  —Frank Donnini, Newport News

 

 

 


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