Book of Basketball

by Simmons Bill

  1. Trading for an NBA player with baggage is like dating a girl with baggage: you might be happy for a few months, but 19 out of 20 times, it will end badly. (And I mean badly, as in, “Why does it hurt when I pee?” or “I wonder who left 59 hang-ups on my answering machine?”) The McAdoo/Lakers trade was the 20th time.

  2. We’ve all played hoops with someone who had McAdoo’s jumper and we envied the guy for it. For me, it was my buddy House. When you have McAdoo’s jumper, it’s like being the one kid in high school who has a donkey dick. Everyone will remember you.

  3. Pistons GM Jack McCloskey explained the release like this: “He could have given us 10 to 12

  minutes a game. He said that he didn’t want to play part-time because it would drive the value of his next contract down. Prior to that, I might have been the only guy in Detroit who thought Bob McAdoo was really injured, but after he said that, I lost all respect.”

  4. The complete list: McAdoo, Haywood, Thompson, John Lucas, Sidney Wicks, Pete Maravich, Robert Parish (G-State version), George McGinnis, Truck Robinson, Terry Furlow, Marvin Barnes, John Drew, Bernard King, Micheal Ray Richardson and yes … Kareem. 5. Another pioneer move by Doo: after his NBA career ended in ’86, he starred in Italy, playing another 7 years and averaging a 27–9 over there. When my friend Wildes recently moved from Manhattan (the NBA of hooking up) to West Hartford (the Italian League), I predicted he’d put up inflated numbers and started calling him Euro McAdoo. Then he quickly found a girlfriend. I think I put too much pressure on him.

  6. He’s a charter member of the Tony La Russa All-Stars for Guys Who Have Looked the Same for So Long That It’s Almost Creepy.

  7. FYI: if you’re flicking channels, come across Vice, and see a skinny Johnson with short hair, you’re in for a classic episode.

  8. Parish played there from 1977 to 1980 and had a reputation for mailing it in and being a pothead; that’s how he became available in the McHale/Parish-for-Joe Barry Carroll hijacking. Also, Chief was arrested during the ’91 season for having a giant package of pot FedExed to his house. Did this affect his Pyramid ranking? Absolutely. I moved him up a few spots. 9. Only twice have I been part of a crowd that loathed an opponent to that degree—this game and Game 6 of the ’86 Finals, right after Ralph Sampson picked a fight with Jerry Sichting, when we caused his backbone to crumble as the game went along—and it’s an experience unlike anything else in sports. To be honest, it’s a little scary. Like being at a Jerry Springer taping with fifteen thousand people.

  10. This includes referee Jack Madden, who stood under the basket watching the whole thing and never called a foul. Maybe the most astounding no-call in NBA history. 11. If you have a friend who wouldn’t enjoy both halves of the Bernard King sandwich, dump him from your life now because he can’t be trusted. My Mount Rushmore for sandwiches looks like this: the French dip, the turkey BLT, the Bernard King and homemade meatloaf on French bread with ketchup and spicy mustard.

  12. GOE still blames Hubie for running Bernard ragged on a shitty team in a last-ditch effort to save his job, eventually causing him to break down. Had Bernard played on the Showtime Lakers, it would have been all over.

  13. From the bible (aka Drive): “During that playoffs, Bernard was automatic—the best scoring machine I have ever seen. His release was amazing. You’d always come within a fraction of getting a piece of his shot, but he wouldn’t allow it. He always had you off-balance.”

  14. That ’85 Knicks team ranked among the ugliest ever with Ken Bannister, Pat Cummings, Orr, Williams, Grunfeld and head coach Hubie Brown. When they played the Celtics that year, people passed out in the stands like the crowds that saw The Exorcist in 1973. I always pictured Bernard sneaking out after games to meet women so that none of his teammates would join him. 15. Bernard averaged 28.4 a game for the ’91 Bullets when he was 34. If only he and Dr. Andrews had crossed paths in time.

  16. Quick rehash of the plot: The great Gabe Kaplan plays a New York basketball junkie who gets a coaching job at tiny Cadwallader State College in Nevada, where they pay him $50 for every win. His wife refuses to go—remember, this was the Wet Blanket Girlfriend era of sports movies—so Gabe ditches her and brings four local stars who couldn’t get into college: Hustler, D. C. Dacey (on the lam from the law, as well as an early prototype for Derrick Coleman’s game), Preacher (a reverend point guard fleeing from the mob) and Swish (a top female player playing in drag). They turn Cadwallader State College around and Hustler wins a ton of money from the Nevada State coach in billiards, agreeing to forgo the money if the two teams play a game. You can guess what happens next.

  17. In retrospect, not a lot of acting here—Bernard landed in rehab a year later. Kaplan told me once that they shot the movie in 60 days and Bernard gave them 58 good ones. He didn’t elaborate. 18. Arizin left treadmarks fleeing from Wilt for a high-paying job at IBM, moonlighting in the Eastern League for his basketball fix. Isn’t it amazing that, as late as the mid-’60s, NBA stars left the league because they could make more money elsewhere?

  19. The old Heinsohn stories are funny—you have to love an era when exploding cigars and sliced shoelaces were hysterically funny acts. Tommy sounds like the kind of guy who’d sneak into your hotel room, take a horrendous dump, not flush it and let it fester in there for 10 hours until you came back to your room and passed out. Needless to say, he would have been a fun person to have on your college hall. And where did he go to college? That’s right … Holy Cross!

  20. Russell in Second Wind: “Tommy was so gifted and so smart that if he had made up his mind that he was going to play every night, the only forward who would have been any competition for him was Baylor. Not even Pettit could have come close to him.”

  21. Only retired players were eligible for selection and had to have one All-NBA first team on their resume.

  22. Back in the late-’90s, my old college roomie JackO and I ran into Tommy at the Four’s. Tommy had a cigarette in one hand and a Scotch in the other—just like we’d always imagined if the moment ever happened—so we quickly approached him, played the H.C. card and talked to him for 20 minutes. It’s my all-time “interaction with a famous person” moment. I’m not kidding. We were so happy afterward that we didn’t know what to do with ourselves. 23. During the ’87 season, Larry Legend made the mistake of challenging ’Nique on a fast break and got dunked on so violently that the momentum sent him sprawling into the basket support like he had been struck by a car. This nearly caused a bigger Atlanta riot than the bomb that spoiled the

  ’96 Olympics. People went berserk. They almost charged the court.

  24. ’Nique was ten times more bummed out than he should have been afterward. If you asked him whether he would have rather won the ’87 Dunk Contest or the ’88 duel against Bird, I’d bet he’d say Bird, but I’d also bet that he would pause for a split second. 25. I will never forgive my mother for throwing out all my hockey cards in the late-’70s or for throwing out my posters in the mid-’90s. What would I have done with them? I don’t know; they’d probably be in my attic gathering dust. It’s the principle, that’s all. 26. ’Nique’s porous defense was the turd in the punch bowl of the famous Bird-’Nique shootout in

  ’88. It’s just a fact. He was Ominique Wilkins that night.

  27. Pierce cracked 4 teeth against the ’04 Suns, slipped in a mouthpiece and returned to win the game. The next day, he underwent seven hours of dental surgery. The next day, he played against Charlotte and made the game-winning shot. Tough dude.

  28. Pitino changed the roster so much that by Christmas ’99, my dad and I were joking what it would be like if Pitino were Santa Claus: “We hated to give up Prancer, but when you have a chance to pick up a new sled and two elves, you have to do it.”

  29. My take: Pierce came back too soon and never dealt with that near-death experience. Eventually, he just got angry and started playing that way. Throw in the pressures of a big contract and his conduct was explainable. Maybe it wasn’t likable, bu
t it was explainable. 30. As much as I enjoyed the ’08 title season, would I trade it for 15 years of CP3? No. But I did think about it.

  31. In my twenties, I drank too much, smoked too much pot and showed horrible taste in women, and that’s when I was broke. What if I were making $14 million a year, living in a mansion with buddies and sampling hot groupies every night? It would have been a disaster. I would not have handled it well. Also, this book would have been dedicated to my four illegitimate kids, Billy junior, Billy the second, DaBill and LeBill.

  32. My money is on this “maybe.” Ricky could corrupt anybody. This should be a game show: Ricky Davis Can Corrupt Anybody. “This week, Ricky teaches a high school basketball team in Utah how to wash Patrón tequila down with Courvoisier!”

  33. My thoughts from January 2006: “Pierce’s career season has been simply astounding to watch on a day-to-day basis—like having a brooding, underachieving teenage son who suddenly starts shaking everyone’s hand, taking out the garbage, cleaning up his room and bringing home A’s. You hope for these things, you keep your fingers crossed, you keep the faith, but you never actually expect it to happen.”

  34. I’ll defend this reference even though it’s a chick flick: Julia Roberts’ performance was the movie version of Doc Gooden’s ’85 season, where you would have believed any outcome for her career after it was over (10 Cy Youngs, 10 Oscars, anything). When you can pull off the “sleazy Hollywood hooker becomes a trophy girlfriend for a zillionaire in 48 hours” premise, you’ve done something special. When she’s at the polo match wearing the brown polka dot dress and Gere confides to George Costanza that Julia is a hooker, you’re thinking, “My God, how could you do that?” even though she was a hooker. That they pulled off such a convoluted, manipulative premise and made it entertaining has to be considered one of the 10 greatest achievements in the history of modern film. So there.

  35. In 2006 I wrote, “[Wade] takes an Iversonian punishment every game, only he’s not a freak of nature like Iverson was/is. If Wade doesn’t start picking his spots, he’ll go Earl Campbell on us and be gone from the league by 2011.”

  36. Going even further: Gary Payton played with both of them in 2006, as G.P. on Miami and Wayne Palmer on 24.

  37. I originally had “Wade’s assassination of Dallas” here for like 3 months before realizing the macabre double meaning. See, I’m a relatively thoughtful person! Right?

  38. Either I am going to autograph a copy of this book for Hollinger or I’m going to beat him unconscious with it. I haven’t decided yet.

  39. That’s when you knew I was getting carried away. Obviously Miami didn’t suck that year. I was riled up.

  40. That was a complete lie: I had money on Dallas in the series. Hence, the vitriol. 41. After this column led ESPN.com, a frustrated Mark Cuban simply posted the link on his blog with the headline “Bill Simmons Is My Hero” and the note, “I never have to say a word again. Bill Simmons, as one of the 19 die hard [sic] says it all. It is so nice to know there are people who pay attention. thank you bill.” This was my favorite Cuban moment ever other than the time I watched him greet seedy Knicks owner James Dolan at the 2008 NBA Technology Summit by screaming,

  “Jim-mayyyyyyyy!” and giving him a big hug, like they hadn’t seen each other outside of a Champagne Room in like five years.

  42. This was the game where Cuban stared down David Stern afterward and Joe House emailed me, “I don’t think I can take much more of NBA refs insisting on controlling the outcomes of the most significant games. The NBA is a disgrace and should be completely embarrassed. I hate this game.”

  43. Seattle traded him for Westphal in 1980 and finished 22 games worse the following season; Phoenix traded him for Rick Robey in 1983 and finished 12 games worse. Nobody ever seemed to appreciate DJ until he was gone.

  44. Really, KC Jones needed to watch three Finals games before realizing, “Maybe I should have the best defensive guard alive checking the key to L.A.’s offense?”

  45. And then there’s this: apparently the guy was hung like a tripod. I knew someone who knew someone who worked in Boston’s clubhouse during the Bird era. (I know, one of those friend-of-a-friend stories, but in this case, the story is too bizarre and nobody could have made it up.) A former Celtic was visiting the locker room, saw DJ naked, was impressed by DJs, um, equipment, and said something like, “Damn, DJ, how the hell did you get that thing?” And as the story went, DJ responded, “I dip it in beans … human beans!” Then everyone cracked up. After hearing that story, I immediately named my fantasy hoops team “Human Beans.” How could a story that wacky be made up?

  46. Wait, I’m not done talking about dicks. My buddy Gus worked for an Orlando TV station in the early-’90s and had the “guy who holds the boom mike for TV interviews right after games” job. He saw nearly every player naked and eventually made an All-Dick Team, the funniest list ever rattled off by any of my friends. You’re not gonna believe this, but there were no white guys. I don’t remember every starter, but I do remember Gus making Vinnie Johnson the sixth man. That killed me. His MVP? Orlando swingman Jerry “Ice” Reynolds—literally, he was a swingman—who dwarfed everyone else to the degree that Ice’s teammates discussed his icicle in reverential tones. I’m still disappointed we never got a SportsCentury about this. 47. A more interesting debate: what are the next five “greatest backcourt of all time” combos using that same criteria? I’d go with Isiah and Dumars, Chauncey Billups and Rip Hamilton, Frazier and Monroe, and Ginobili and Parker for the next five, with honorable mention going to Mo Cheeks and Andrew Toney and to D.J. and Gus Williams.

  48. I love the thought of Sharman shooting extra free throws and doing jumping jacks after practice while Heinsohn sipped a beer, smoked a Marlboro and heckled him from the sidelines. You know this happened.

  49. I’d be lying if I said Danny Schayes didn’t affect this ranking. Dolph’s genes produced one of the all-time stiffs of the ’80s.

  50. SI from February 1974: “During his four years with the Rockets, Hayes was variously considered a ball hog, a rotten apple, a dumbbell and a guaranteed loser.” Well, then. 51. Marin was best known for a disorienting red burn mark that took up much of his right arm. I remember being patently terrified of him as a little kid. These days, he would have just cluttered that arm up with tattoos and we wouldn’t have noticed it. GOE adds, “He was also part of a great Bullets team that you’re overlooking with Unseld, Monroe, Kevin Loughery and Gus Johnson. A classic second-best team that is now forgotten.” That might be his grumpiest and oldest interruption yet.

  52. During the postgame celebration, Hayes responded to a few needling questions about his Game 7 no-show by saying, “They can say whatever they want. But they gotta say one thing: E’s a world champion. He wears the ring.” The Sports Guy enjoyed E’s use of the third-person nickname tense on that one.

  53. It’s hard to take that nickname seriously when he sucked in the ’84 Finals and basically blew the series with his backcourt lob that Gerald Henderson picked off in Game 2. Whatever, it rhymes. I like nicknames that rhyme—even “Never Nervous Pervis” made Ellison seem like 50

  percent less of a bust.

  54. In his first five seasons, Worthy missed 42 of 43 threes. In the next two seasons, he “improved”

  to 4-for-39. So for his first seven seasons, Worthy took 82 threes and missed 77 of them. That has to be some sort of record, right?

  55. This has only been tried once, in an awful Nicolas Cage movie called Family Man, where he got to see what his life would have been like if he hadn’t gotten married. I don’t need a movie to know what my life would have been like: I would have been traveling to various sporting events every week, going to Vegas once a month and dating sideline reporters and my outdoor office would have 10 TVs instead of just 4. Also, I’d have a cold sore on my lower lip. And it would hurt when I pee.

  56. The starting five: Bill Walton, Worthy, Jamaal Wilkes, Baron Davis and Walt Frazier, with Brian Winters as
sixth man and Mike Newlin, Phil Jackson, Mike Gminski and World B. Free coming off the bench. I’m excluding Kareem out of sheer spite.

  57. Not to be confused with Jay “I Shouldn’t Have Bought a Motorcycle” Williams or Jayson “I Didn’t Kill My Chauffeur” Williams.

  58. Sura played so black that House (who fancied himself a black person, and still does) bought a game-worn Sura jersey on eBay and wore it in pickup games for a few years. They were like kindred spirits.

  59. The starting five for that team: Jack Sikma, Rick Barry, Jason Kidd, Scottie Pippen and Anthony Mason, with Moochie Norris, Steve Nash, Chris Andersen, Darnell Hillman and Chris Kaman coming off the bench.

  60. This category always seems to have over-the-top affirmations like “I swear to God,” “I can promise you,” and “I don’t have a doubt in my mind.”

  61. I just ducked a lightning bolt.

  62. Steve Jones’ nickname? “Snapper.” He refuses to reveal why they called him “Snapper.” He’s even ducked the question in NBA.com chats other than to say that two ABA teammates in New Orleans gave it to him and that there’s a story behind it. My guess involves a French Quarter hooker, a whip and hot beignets.

  63. Earning the nickname “Bad News” as a professional athlete is like earning the nickname

  “One-Night Stand” as a sorority girl—really, there’s no getting around the implicit message. 64. If I could have anybody’s jump shot, I’d take Mike Miller’s. It’s perfect. It’s like seeing Halle Berry go topless in Swordfish for the first time—you don’t even know what to say while you’re watching it. Words can’t do it justice. Ray Allen’s jumper ranks second. Eric Gordon’s jumper ranks third. And Shawn Marion’s jumper ranks last.