By Morris Phillips in collaboration with Michael Duca
(photo courtesy of Sports Illustrated)
I knew Bill Walton.
Actually, a lot of people knew Bill Walton, so me saying I knew him isn’t a great distinction. But it is a great distinction for Walton, arguably the greatest college basketball player ever, an NBA MVP, a two-time NBA Champion, and also an NBA Finals MVP.
If you were to make the argument that Bill Walton wasn’t the greatest college basketball player ever, and Lew Alcindor was, you would also have to admit that Walton was the more well-rounded player of the two. If not, your basketball IQ would be in question.
And one other thing: Bill Walton’s humanity was bigger than any of his accomplishments on the hardwood. Almost every single person that knew Bill Walton, knew him fondly. So in reality, the Bill Walton story is so big, it’s too big for one journalist to handle. The City of Berkeley, CA and the University of California–enemy territory for the UCLA alum–knew Bill Walton. So here’s the Walton story just from the vantage point of the well-known Northern California college town.
“He just defiantly competed for every moment in life to be the greatest it could possibly be,” Walton’s former Boston Celtics’ teammate Rick Carlisle said. “That’s the best way to describe it. What an amazing man.”
“What a journey he lived,” former Cal coach Ben Braun said in remembrance of Walton, who died Sunday from complications of a battle with colon cancer. “We lost a good one.”
Walton’s first visit to Harmon Gym came on March 3, 1972. Accurately listed at 6’11”, 210 lbs. he wasn’t fast, but he was quick in the painted area, decisive once he got the ball, and extremely confident in his play. As a sophomore, playing his 24th college game that night, he was in supreme control as UCLA cruised 85-71 over Cal.
His style of play? In those days, Bill Walton was completely healthy. He wouldn’t miss a game as a collegian until his senior year, when he missed three. For those not old enough to have seen him play in 1971 through 1974, a comparison to modern day basketball players might go like this. Take the activity, relentless energy and desire to grab every defensive rebound, like Sacramento’s Domantas Sabonis. Combine that with the court vision and playmaking of Larry Bird. And kick it all off with the humility and savoir faire of Len Bias. Yeah, now you’re talking about the youthful Walton.
Walton’s second visit to Berkeley’s Harmon Gym came on January 13, 1973, when he captured his 42nd consecutive collegiate game without loss, as the Bruins cruised again, 69-50, and remained ranked No. 1 nationally on their way to 1973 title.
In the championship game that year, Walton did the near impossible in making 21 of 22 shots in 33 minutes on the floor, as UCLA raced past Memphis State, 87-66 in St. Louis.
Walton’s senior year was troubled by UCLA’s standards as they saw their incredible win streak snapped at Notre Dame in January 1974. After losses at Oregon and Oregon State, the Bruins righted the ship the following weekend at Pauley Pavilion with resounding wins against Washington and Washington State. Next, Walton and UCLA came to Berkeley with a modest two-game win streak and won again at Harmon, 83-60, to improve to 21-3.
At this point, I would be remiss if I didn’t defer to well-known Cal basketball journalist Jeff Faraudo, who penned a story about Walton and his legendary college coach John Wooden. In 1960, Wooden could have ended up at Cal, but instead was tabbed to coach at UCLA. Faraudo wrote a “what if” piece that captured that moment, which all should read. Walton weighed in and was extremely enthusiastic.
“He would have done perfect in Berkeley,” Walton said. “If he had been there, they’d probably have a brand-new beautiful gym instead of playing in Harmon.”
The Big Redhead’s journey through the NBA, and professional basketball was terrific, then ultimately arduous. He did not cross paths with Berkeley during this period. Instead, he started in Portland, moved to San Diego, spent one season in Los Angeles, and relocated again to Boston. As a 24-year old, he led the Blazers to their first World title in 1977 in a titanic Finals matchup with Dr. J, Julius Erving and the 76ers. The next season, the Blazers started 50-10, and their back-to-back title push was in full bloom. But in that 60th game, Walton was hurt, playing 13 minutes and taking just three shots from the floor. The Blazers still prevailed to improve to 50-10, but February 28, 1978, was a true moment in time. It essentially marked the end of Walton’s career as an elite player.
While Walton’s career was faltering because of injuries, his bank account naturally grew. And during the following six seasons, in which he would miss three of them in their entirety while playing for his hometown San Diego Clippers, his passions outside the game took off. One of those passions was the Greatful Dead, the legendary rock group, which captured Bill’s soul and his attendance at many of their shows.
While I can’t say when, what show, or what setlist, just know that Bill Walton saw the Greatful Dead numerous times at Berkeley’s Greek Theatre. I only went once to see the Dead at the Greek, and he wasn’t there that afternoon. I wish he was.
Boston, MA was the site of Walton’s rebirth. Now, 34, and a decade removed from his glory moments, the storied Celtics sensed an opening: a place for a great player to help a great team. Walton was signed with one objective in mind, which was to bring another title to the rafters at the Garden. And Coach K.C. Jones was given the guy with which he could save critical minutes from Larry Bird and Kevin McHale, his workhorses. The plan was executed flawlessly.
In Game 1 of the Finals against the Houston Rockets, Walton was a winner, contributing 18 minutes off the bench, and a flawless shooter, finishing 5 of 5 from the floor, eight rebounds, three assists and a block in the pivotal game of a series that would be decided rather quickly. He was–even for one last moment in time–Bill Walton.
For the series, Walton would play 117 minutes and grab 48 rebounds total. It was not pretty. He played on feet that he treated gingerly, he often had a bend in his legs, when he previously always played straight up, and grimaced frequently during play. I saw it on TV. He gutted it out, and the Celtics used him masterfully, saving him, essentially for the one moment of the season when he could make the biggest impact.
“It’s a legend lost, ” said Dallas Mavericks coach Jason Kidd, who had those “crystal green eyes.”
Walton played one more season for the Celtics and retired. The plan to have him be the guy to get the Celtics over the top a second time failed. Walton played just 24 minutes and scored six points in his final six games as the Celtics fell to the Lakers in the Finals in six games. His tired body was broken, and it was time to move on.
Broadcasting came next for Bill Walton, and “Redwood” was the best thing–refreshing, irreverent, passionate–from the start. First with ABC, ESPN and then finally with the Pac-12 Network, he frustrated viewers that didn’t get it, and blew away those that did get it with his endless stories, tangents, set asides, frequent switches, sometimes within one dead-ball break in a broadcast.
Roxy Bernstein, the Cal grad, and the former voice of California Golden Bears basketball was Walton’s biggest co-star, along with the often-confounded Dave Pasch. While Pasch would often have moments (early on) where his composure was tested during broadcasts with Walton, things were more seamless with Bernstein. The jokes hit closer to velvet smooth, and the transitions were elite as the two men took viewers on a journey with each two-hour performance.
What was immediately noticeable was that Bernstein adored Walton. What wasn’t always clear was that Walton loved Bernstein too, even as he was testing every fiber of his play-by-play expertise. The two grew close. It was undeniable as they gained more experience together. And when their later broadcasts hit the air, their chemistry was tight, even in the game’s opening tease, as both would smile ear-to-ear.
Walton welcomed the circus-like environment he created before and after games. Engaging as many people as could as the support staff packed up equipment around him, his mid-court perch became his office, as he counseled players, engaged coaches, and answered to journalists like me.
When Jaylen Brown made the last-minute decision in his recruitment to join coach Cuonzo Martin and the Bears from his far-away hometown of Atlanta, Walton took to the whip smart youngster immediately. They talked before games, sometimes while Brown’s teammates warmed up. They talked after games too, when Brown would challenge himself, and come back out of the locker room to get up extra shots by himself in a now-empty Haas Pavilion. Walton had discovered a star, essentially before he became one. They grew close, and Walton talked about the young man often during the broadcasts.
“I would talk to him before every game,” Brown said. “He was proud of me.
“My family loves Bill Walton.”
The last time I spoke to Walton was at Pac-12 Media Days. He was alone, on the rooftop lunch area, sitting on a table with donuts in the colors of each of the 12 schools next to him. He was visibly tired, having likely had 100 conversations in 75-minute cram session during the lunch break.
“Bill, get away from those donuts. Does your doctor let you eat that stuff?” I asked.
He was little slumped, but looked up at me, and said, “Dr. Leary is my doctor.”
“He grabbed every defensive rebound. He was like a coach on the floor,” said Cal coach Ben Braun, who made it clear that he would have done anything to recruit Walton away from television to join his coaching staff at Cal.
‘How is your life?
Is THIS the life you want?
Are you living like you talk?
Are you dreaming as if you’re going to the top?
Are you passionate?
Do you love what you do?
Do you love who you are?
Do you love your “team”?
Seems like all of life has been just a dream.
But without loving that dream, it’ll never come true.
And when you learn the ultimate lessons in life…like
tolerance…patience…perspective and relativity, you’ve got a CHANCE.
Good luck everyone…thank you for your patience and kindness.
And may the four winds, blow you safely home.”
Bill Walton
1952-2024
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