When the Game Was Ours (46 page)

BOOK: When the Game Was Ours
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"But sometimes it was hard," Bird conceded. "You could see they were heading in the wrong direction, no matter how much you tried to help them."

Indiana began rebuilding around young swingman Danny Granger, who in his fifth season with the team in 2008–2009 was selected to play in the All-Star Game.

"We're on our way back," Granger said during All-Star weekend. "It's all about looking forward now."

While Bird's Pacers pointed to the future, Magic's Lakers were poised to make some noise in the here and now. Johnson took his role as the Lakers vice president seriously. He spent time talking with his players and sharing his experiences with superstar Kobe Bryant, who submitted an MVP year in 2007–2008 and quickly established the Lakers as the favorite to win the NBA crown.

The Celtics, meanwhile, had undergone some changes. After a wretched 24-win season in 2006–2007, Celtics boss Danny Ainge acquired veteran sniper Ray Allen. Then Ainge pried away former MVP Kevin Garnett from his friend, Minnesota general manager Kevin McHale, in a blockbuster deal that transformed Boston's prospects virtually overnight.

Bird (who earned the final say over personnel decisions when Walsh left the Pacers in 2007) inquired about Garnett's availability a week before the Timberwolves made the deal with the Celtics. At the time, McHale told Bird he didn't want to trade Garnett and the face of their franchise was content to stay put.

"So I called him back after the trade," Bird said. "I asked him, 'What changed?' He talked around and around it. Then it finally hit me. Kevin wasn't really making the final decision. I know he didn't want to part with Garnett. He was smart enough to know they'd never get enough in return. It probably came from up above."

With Garnett setting the tone in 2007–2008, the Celtics played lockdown defense, the best Bird had seen in a long time. He liked their rotation and applauded the maturation of Paul Pierce, who seemed liberated by the new personnel. Allen was the perimeter spoke of the new Big Three. Their bench players James Posey, Eddie House, P. J. Brown, and Leon Powe thrived in their specific roles.

Magic eyed the Boston roster warily, but was optimistic that when the Lakers added forward Pau Gasol they'd have enough strength up front to offset the loss of center Andrew Bynum, their
young and rapidly improving big man whose knee injury ruled him out of playoff contention.

LA's world revolved around Kobe, the most prolific scorer in the league. Before the Finals started, Bryant assumed the unofficial role of the team's spokesman and predicted his team would be united and prepared against Boston.

Magic believed it—until he looked out of the window of Boston's Four Seasons Hotel just hours before Game 2 and saw Lamar Odom loaded up with shopping bags less than three hours before game time. Johnson was fond of Odom, but couldn't believe his eyes.

"What is he doing?" Magic said. "It's 95 degrees outside. He should be resting! Does he know there's a game today?"

Johnson rode down the elevator with the Lakers coaches and informed them of what he'd seen.

"They don't grasp the magnitude of this moment," said veteran assistant Frank Hamblen. "They don't understand they might never have this chance again."

Before the Finals started, the league asked Bird and Magic to conduct a conference call for the legions of journalists who wanted to revisit the great rivalry of the eighties. Bird was hesitant. He called Magic to discuss how they should handle it.

"This shouldn't be about us," Bird said. "These young guys deserve their turn. Let's do this one thing and get out of the way."

"Agreed," said Magic, who knew Kobe chafed at comparisons to the Showtime days. "We'll keep the 'Magic and Larry Show' to one hour."

The two icons conducted the conference call, then agreed to pose for a split-screen advertisement promoting the Finals.

"After that," Bird said, "I disappeared."

As the Boston-LA series got under way, Magic sat down in front of a TV and popped in eighties footage of the epic battle between his Lakers and Bird's Celtics. He watched in silence, admiring the ball movement and the speed of the game. He marveled at the passing skills of his teammates and how the ball rarely touched the floor.

"I wish they still played the game like this," he told his son E.J.

Bird placed a phone call to one player before the Finals: Lakers forward Luke Walton, son of Bill Walton. Bird, who had known Luke since he was a young hellion riding his tricycle through Larry's kitchen, left him a message wishing him luck and reminded him to savor every moment.

Magic also placed a call to one player: Celtics star Paul Pierce, who grew up in the shadows of the Forum in Inglewood, California, worshiping Magic and the Lakers. Pierce had played summer ball with Magic, who counseled him on everything from the proper dribbling drills to the knack of staying humble amid his sudden change in fortune. He also cautioned Pierce "to leave the street behind" as he made his climb to the NBA elite.

"You can't be hanging on that corner anymore," he told Pierce. "You can see your guys, say hello, but then you've got to keep on moving. You have different responsibilities now. They just can't be a central part of your life anymore. You can see them once in a while, help 'em out if you want, but there's too much at stake to find yourself in a position that just doesn't make sense."

In their final conversation before the Finals, Bird and Magic talked briefly about Pierce's personal growth. Bird said he was happy the kid would finally have some of his own Finals highlights. For years Pierce had looked up at his own Jumbotron and seen clips of Russell, Havlicek, and Bird. His franchise had been stuck in the past, and now, finally, with Garnett and Allen alongside him, the future was now.

"Lakers in six," Magic told Bird, before he signed off.

"Your boys are going down," Bird shot back.

Bird didn't believe the Lakers could match Boston's defensive intensity. He felt that Lamar Odom was the key to the series and was stunned by how easily the Celtics negated him.

"I thought the Lakers were the softer team," Bird said. "And as great as Kobe is, everything has to run through him. He dominates the ball a lot. If he has any inkling things aren't going the team's way, then it's up to him to take over the game the way Michael [Jor
dan] used to. But even Michael will tell you, it's hard to win that way.

"The Lakers are at their best when Kobe comes down, gives the ball up, cuts through, and they swing it back around to him. That's when he's most deadly. I always felt the same way about Michael."

As Danny Ainge sat court-side in the third quarter of Game 6, with his Celtics up 3–1 in games and bulldozing their way to an insurmountable 31-point advantage that would clinch the championship, he looked down at his cell phone and saw a new text message in the inbox.

"Congratulations," Bird wrote. "You, your players, and [coach] Doc [Rivers] deserve it."

When the Celtics secured their 17th championship on the fabled parquet, neither Bird nor Magic was in the building to witness it. Bird was home in Indianapolis, keeping his promise to stay away from the limelight of the current players. Although Johnson was on the Lakers' masthead, his interaction with the 2008 team was minimal because so few of the players seemed interested in his input.

"I love the Lakers," Magic said. "I've been through it all. In our day you went up to the old players and asked them how it was. You learned from them.

"It bothers me the young guys don't have enough respect to do that today. They feel they know it already. And the second part is, they think we're 'old school,' like they are playing a different game than we did. They don't realize basketball is basketball. The only player that's ever asked me anything is [point guard] Derek Fisher."

Magic noted that Kobe Bryant appeared to be more invested in his teammates during the 2008 Finals than in other seasons. He witnessed some leadership from the gifted guard that he hadn't seen before.

"I wanted Kobe to enjoy it, because the work it takes to get to the Finals is too hard to be joyless," Magic said. "You need to be able to share it with the guys.

"You don't want your teammates to be walking down the street
someday and have their son or daughter say to them, 'Daddy, what kind of teammate was Kobe Bryant?' and have him say, 'I didn't know him. He never let me in,' or worse, 'He's not my kind of guy.' I thought Kobe made great strides in the [2008] Finals. He's always been a tremendous player, and now he's figuring out how to add the leadership component to that."

Kobe and the Lakers were again among the best in 2008–2009. Boston also contended until Garnett suffered a knee injury in February. The Lakers beat Orlando for the title, and the revised LA-Boston rivalry came full circle.

The only missing component was Magic and Larry. Their rivalry was one for the ages, a timeless bridge to a day when the shorts were shorter, the game was simpler, and the two best players dominated by setting someone else up to succeed. While Jordan became widely recognized as the best player of his generation, the absent piece of his résumé was the consistent foil to measure himself against. There were a number of challengers, among them Clyde Drexler, Charles Barkley, John Stockton, and Karl Malone, yet none could match Michael's intensity or his abilities. He was a singular sensation, while his predecessors were a tandem of brilliance.

"Larry and Magic are still the only two guys I know who could take ten or eleven shots and still dominate the game," said Kevin McHale. "That was the major difference between them and Jordan. If you got Michael to take eleven shots, you had dominated
him.
"

Knicks executive Donnie Walsh warmed to Bird and Magic because they shattered the myth that you didn't have to come to an NBA game until the fourth quarter because nobody played hard until then.

"Larry and Magic played hard from the first possession to the last," Walsh said. "They didn't take a single play off, and they forced their teammates to match their intensity.

"Great players are difficult. They're different, driven. They operate on a different plane. Everyone says, 'I don't want to lose.' Magic and Larry said, 'I'll kill you if I lose.'"

Kurt Rambis, an assistant coach with the Lakers, has never forgotten that Magic's championship performance in 1980 was on tape delay. (He occasionally utilizes that snippet of information to illustrate the growth of the league for today's players.) The role Johnson and Bird played in the rejuvenation of the NBA, he said, has cemented their legacy.

"Their college rivalry pulled an audience toward the NBA that might not ever have come otherwise," Rambis said. "The characteristic that set them apart was their willingness to let someone else hit the winning shot. They didn't need to do it themselves. They were happy to make the pass.

"That was a huge thing. You didn't see much of it then, and you don't see much of that now."

Danny Ainge was one of those fair-weather NBA fans Rambis referred to. Although he was an accomplished college basketball player, Ainge also excelled in baseball and was a draft pick of the Toronto Blue Jays. At the time, he had only a passing interest in professional basketball.

"But then I started following the Celtics and the Lakers and Larry and Magic," Ainge said. "They piqued my interest. I started thinking, 'Maybe I should try the NBA.'"

Together, Magic and Larry amassed 39,498 career points, 15,836 assists, 15,533 rebounds, and 3,280 steals. Yet the numbers don't begin to explain their impact on the game. When Bird and Johnson called it quits, the NBA emitted a collective sigh.

"You will never see anyone like them again," declared Bill Walton. "When Larry and Magic retired, the lost art of passing—that elusive team game—went with them."

They are occupied with their growing families now. After Barcelona, the Johnsons adopted a baby girl, Elisa, to join E.J. and Andre, Magic's adult son from a previous relationship. When the family seeks privacy, they sneak off to their elegant oceanfront home in Dana Point, California.

After Barcelona, the Birds also adopted a baby girl, Mariah. She has matched her father's competitive spirit, competing in track and field with the same intensity her father brought to the hardwood.

When the Birds want to escape, they retreat to their ranch in Indiana, with trails for four-wheeling, lakes for fishing, and 100 acres just waiting to be mowed.

Although their children are similar in age, the families do not vacation together. They do not exchange obligatory Christmas cards. When Magic and Larry see each other during the NBA season, the greetings are warm and genuine, but their interaction is fleeting.

It does not matter. As the years roll on, the connection remains unbroken. When the game belonged to them, Magic and Larry shared a bond predicated on fierce competition. Now, with their legacies intact—and forever linked—none of the animosity lingers.

Only respect remains.

CAREER STATISTICS

Larry Bird

HIGH SCHOOL
: Springs Valley, French Lick, Indiana

COLLEGE
: Indiana State University

DRAFTED BY
: Boston Celtics, 1978 (sixth overall)

CAREER ACCOMPLISHMENTS
: NBA champion (1981, 1984, 1986); NBA Finals MVP (1984, 1986); NBA MVP (1984, 1985, 1986); nine-time All-NBA First Team (1980–88); All-NBA Second Team (1990); All-Defensive Second Team (1982, 1983, 1984); 12-time All-Star; All-Star MVP (1982); NBA Rookie of the Year (1980); Olympic gold medalist (1992); co-captain (with Magic Johnson) of U.S. Olympic Team; elected to Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame (1998).

ABBREVIATIONS

APG
Assists Per Game

AST
Total Assists

BLK
Total Blocks

BPG
Blocks Per Game

FG
Field Goals

FGM-A
Field Goals Made-Field Goals Attempted

FT
Free Throws

FTM-A
Free Throws Made-Free Throws Attempted

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