Some athletes try to figure out what role sports fulfills in the world.
Where it fits.
Think of it. You wake up and find yourself
about to run out on the floor of the Boston Garden
for a championship game on national television.
Here come the Celtics.
Your teammates have a dazed look in their eyes,
as if they realize they're about to be run over by a car.
I used to joke that if you could bottle all the emotion in a basketball game,
you'd have enough hate to fight a war and enough joy to prevent one.
The President of the United States
has expressed interest in the outcome of a game.
And while you're trying to rest there in your own private cocoon
before the action starts,
there's generally a moment when you find yourself wondering
how it all came together.
One of the great thrills of my career as a Celtic
was when we came out of the locker room.
We had a guy named Weldon Haire, who did the public address,
and he would say…
Here come the world champions, the Boston Celtics!
And every single time I heard that, I'd get goosebumps.
I absolutely loved that.
By the fall of 1963,
the Boston Celtics had won six NBA titles
but none without Bob Cousy.
It was a challenge to all of us to win it without Cousy.
Not that we resented his fame or anything else, but it was,
"Hey, we'd like to be recognized that we can win this thing,
and we still can win this thing without Cousy, all right?"
We knew how to play together.
I actively, and with thought and planning, helped make these guys better players.
In the '63-'64 season,
Russell earned career highs in rebounds and assists,
and despite the absence of Cousy,
the Celtics finished the regular season with the best record in the NBA.
In the Finals, Boston met the Warriors, who moved to San Francisco
from Philadelphia the previous year.
With Wilt's Warriors in the Western Conference,
Chamberlain, for the first time, stood between Bill Russell
and another ring.
Almost any argument people wanted to have could be carried on
in the Russell vs. Chamberlain debate.
If we weren't a metaphor for something, we were at least a symbol of it.
It was fascinating because they were totally different personalities.
Wilt was a combination of
Magic Johnson and Santa Claus.
Bill Russell, serious, focused, rugged, disciplined, tough.
The opposite of how Wilt Chamberlain was perceived.
They always had them as fierce competitors,
but off the court, they used to fraternize.
Back then, it was a much more intimate endeavor.
In fact, he used to, sometimes, when he would go and play in Philly,
stay with Wilt and Wilt's family.
Bill and Wilt's relationship really was a true bromance.
Wilt would invite him to come over and have Thanksgiving dinner
with his family, and his mom would cook.
When he'd get ready to leave, they'd leave together,
and she'd always tell Bill, "You be nice to my boy Norman."
"Don't you beat him up too bad."
I would have never done that, okay?
If you're my rival, I don't like you. I don't like you.
I'm gonna try to embarrass you before you try to embarrass me.
On the court, it's one thing. Off the court, it's another thing.
When we get in between them lines, we gonna get to it.
I thought Russell used his intelligence with Wilt in a very skillful way,
even to the point of being with him for dinner the night before they played.
Just kind of soften him up,
so when he goes up and his hands happen to be over the rim,
Wilt doesn't break his arm, but he just lays it in.
These subtleties are what was Bill Russell's genius.
I have some close friends of mine who told me a number of times,
"Wilt, go up there and break Bill Russell's hand."
"Stop being so nice to these guys. You can destroy them."
Their relationship was based on respect.
They always played hard against each other.
They're friends, but they're competitors.
When you compete,
you compete at the highest level, no matter who you're playing against.
I think of all sports as a mixture of art and war.
It is possible to change the mixture of art and war
in any sport by changing its sacred rules.
Let's imagine that in another time, in another world,
the commissioner of the NBA,
to eliminate all violence from basketball and to reward artistry,
installed a panel of judges to award points
based on the beauty of each particular basket scored.
All beautiful plays in basketball should be appreciated on their own merits.
As a result, players were motivated only by their love of the art.
With all its warlike elements removed,
the sport soon became a form of dance.
More of a ballet than a brawl.
When we see Julius "Dr. J" Irving fly through the air,
his back arched, his arms stretched,
we'd say, "That was a beautiful move," in the same way a painting is beautiful.
The form inspires wonder, and the motion has something to say.
In 1964, Russell greeted Chamberlain in their first ever NBA Finals
with a near-perfect balance of art and war.
He ignited the Celtics when they needed energy
and guided them when they needed poise.
The Celtics went up three games to one,
and in the last seconds of game five,
Russell delivered a statement to end the season.
The rebound is stuffed in by big Bill Russell
with ten seconds to go. That clinches it.
Boston fans have already started to carry Coach Red Auerbach off the court.
The win proved Bill could lead a championship team without Cousy.
For the Celtics, it was their sixth straight Finals win,
their seventh since Bill Russell arrived in Boston,
and Bill's first without the Cous.
Guiding this team of champions was their larger-than-life coach.
The team Red built was crafted to work in perfect harmony.
After Cousy left, the starting lineup consisted of K.C. Jones, Bill Russell,
Tom Heinsohn, Satch Sanders, and Sam Jones.
But before a game against St. Louis in December 1964,
Heinsohn was out with a foot injury.
Red Auerbach could have substituted sixth man John Havlicek.
Instead, he turned to the more experienced Willie Naulls.
So, you had Bill Russell at center,
Tom Sanders as one forward,
Willie Naulls as the other forward,
Sam and K.C. Jones.
When the Celtics started five African Americans,
that was a powerful signal.
It was a routine ABC equation for us.
We were only interested in winning.
"This is our best team today. This is who we're putting on the floor."
Five Black guys on the court at once? Really? We didn't notice.
He wanted to win, and you win with the best players.
Auerbach did what he was supposed to do, not what he was pressured to do
or that he was trying to make a mark.
But the writers pressed for a comment.
We had just made history.
History, like Red would have said, can kiss my ass in Macy's window.
It's undeniable that the Celtics broke tradition
with their all-Black starting lineup.
But Bill demanded that first be put in its proper historical context.
There used to be a lot of emphasis on the first Negro to do this,
the first Negro to do that.
It's unimportant who was the first and who was the last.
The important thing is how many. The rest is tokenism.
I don't consider anything I've done as contributing to society.
I consider professional basketball as marking time,
the most shallow thing in the world.
Of course, I'm practical.
Where else but in basketball could I command this salary?
A man does what he has to do.
But the contribution I'd like to make as a person,
to my kids and little Black kids all over the world,
is to make life better,
so their ambitions aren't stilted when they face the world.
To give them the opportunity to do what they're most skilled at.
I could have a burning ambition to get my kids a million dollars.
If I gave them that alone, I'd be giving them nothing.
For some young fans,
Russell and his teammates provided more than inspiration.
They created a spectacular model of collaborative action.
I'm in a white neighborhood.
A white, segregated, as all of Boston was,
rife with racism.
And little white boys were running around the basketball court
at age five and six and seven, trying to throw it up there,
and saying, "I'm K.C. Jones."
"I'm Sam Jones."
"I'm Bill Russell."
When the Celtics came to town,
everybody was there, hanging from the rafters,
because they always wanted to see, not only Russell, just a great team.
The Celtics finished the 1964-'65 season
with a league-best record of 62 and 18.
In the playoffs, the Celtics faced the Philadelphia 76ers,
who added a familiar face.
Wilt's previous team, the Warriors, dealt with his high salary demands,
and their losing record, by trading him.
Back home, Chamberlain made the Sixers a viable contender.
The two teams swapped wins
as they faced hostile fans in each other's hometowns.
Chamberlain swings at an imaginary object.
We were playing the Philadelphia 76ers
for the Eastern Championships.
It was the seventh and final game.
All through the game, we made runs forward,
and every time, Chamberlain and Greer and the rest of them
closed in on us again.
We couldn't shake them.
The Celtics built a seven-point lead with 1:45 remaining.
Once again, Philly fought back,
and with only a few seconds left,
it looked like Boston would survive and advance to the NBA Finals.
Chamberlain turns and stuffs the ball.
There are five seconds left.
We figured we'd inbound the ball, and the game would be over.
I did not trust anybody else to take it out but me.
I wanted to take it out 'cause I'd make sure I could make a good pass.
We have a chance to ice the game, and Russell is gonna take the ball
out of bounds.
But unbeknownst to him, he was underneath a wire
that attached to the balcony that used to stabilize the basket.
Now, Russell is…
-He loses the ball off the support!
Russell lost the ball off the support! Boston's only leading by one point.
And the ball goes to Philadelphia with five seconds left.
Boston only has a one-point lead.
I mean, I heard it on the radio in the car.
And I was too young to drive,
but I'm telling you… …nobody with a car radio on
should have been moving at the time.
110 to 109. Now, the tension is really there.
We go in a huddle. All I could say was, "Guys, we got to do something."
"You gotta bail me out of this." I was beside myself. I… I was embarrassed.
Russell said, "Hey, will someone take these goat horns off of me?"
"Because I'm wearing the horns."
I don't think that my teammates had ever heard me say anything like that.
"I screwed up. Get me off the hook."
Other guys would have made excuses, not Russell.
It exhibited to me humility and a belief in his teammates.
This is a bad situation. This is the ball game.
Five seconds. Philadelphia has the ball directly under the Celtics basket.
Greer is going to throw the ball in.
The whole sequence of all the World Championships
and the Eastern Championships and the record and everything else
had come down to the final second.
When the official hands the ball over,
he has five seconds to put it in play.
I start counting to myself, one thousand, one,
one thousand, two,
one thousand, three.
I got to "one thousand, four," and nothing had happened yet.
Well, at that time, I was able to, for a very split second,
take a peek.
I saw the ball released.
Greer is putting the ball into play.
He gets it out deep, and Havlicek steals it!
Over to Sam Jones. Havlicek stole the ball!
It's all over! It's all over!
Johnny Havlicek is being mobbed by the fans.
It's all over!
Johnny Havlicek stole the ball!
Johnny Most screams, "Havlicek stole the ball…"
…into that radio in a way that went right through your body.
Bill Russell wants to grab Havlicek. He hugs him.
He squeezes John Havlicek.
Havlicek saved this ball game,
believe that!
Johnny Havlicek saved this ball game.
I tell Havlicek, "I made you famous."
"Havlicek stole the ball! Havlicek stole the ball!"
I said, "If I didn't mess up, nobody would have heard of you."
Having finally disposed of the 76ers,
the Celtics moved on to their perennial rivals in Los Angeles.
Boston made short work of the Lakers, winning the title in five games.
It was their eighth championship since Bill Russell joined the team.
For the public, the only rivalry that mattered
was the one between Bill Russell and Wilt Chamberlain.
Bill was open and consistent
about his hopes for Black children and Black communities.
For Wilt, dominating the game was rooted in a radical demand
for compensation based on talent.
Actually, we're out here to make money.
We're playing something we love to do,
but the primary interest really is how much you can make.
Bill Russell was involved in the civil rights movement
and encouraging people to effect change.
Wilt, you know, lived very well,
but he didn't really care about anything else
other than his own comfort and his life.
I mean, Wilt had a racehorse and, you know, a Rolls-Royce.
He lived very well.
He kept getting these good salaries.
So, "Wait. If money's there for him, it's gotta be there for me too."
I remember, over the radio or something,
that Wilt had just signed a contract for $100,000.
It wasn't just a rumor.
Chamberlain had signed a three-year contract with the 76ers
for a record annual salary of $100,000,
the equivalent of one million today.
When we heard this, I was talking to Red Auerbach.
We're talking about my contract for the next year.
I said, "Well, that does it. I know what I want."
He says, "What?"
I said, "I want $100,001."
He just turned white.
"Whiter," I'm sorry.
That's petty in a great way. That's petty in a great way.
If it's one dollar, that means I'm better than him.
It just shows you the competitor in him.
That's him. That's him to the core.
You weren't kidding about that extra buck, were you?
Every little bit helps.
We'll get you one dollar for doing the show.
Is there any truth to these rumors
that you're asking for astronomical sums?
Uh, "astronomical," that… that sounds high.
He can get you 20 points on pick-and-rolls and rim runs.
He can block five shots, and he can get you 20 rebounds.
He's not a $100,000 man. He's a $500 million player today.
I said, "I just won the MVP in this league."
"I should be the highest paid."
I called my dad on the phone,
and I said, "You won't believe this. I got this deal."
"You don't have to work anymore."
He says, "Well, son, I can't quit working."
I said, "Why not?"
He says, "I've been working this foundry 25 years."
I said, "A foundry, 25-- That's a great reason to quit."
He said, "Oh no."
He said, "Listen, son, I've given these people
25 of the best years of my life."
"Now, I'll give them a few of the bad ones."
That's great.
While Russell played a game of one-upmanship with Chamberlain,
he took a sharper stance against the economic treatment
of Black people in the United States.
There are other answers that are still to be found.
I intend to call a White House conference
of scholars and experts and outstanding Negro leaders
of both races to fulfill these rights.
Its object will be to help the American Negro
fulfill the rights,
which after the long time of injustice,
he is finally about to secure.
Bill Russell was one of 2,400 invited delegates,
including entertainers, business leaders, and prominent activists.
But in the end, he felt the meeting produced only empty promises.
Russell believed real change depended on economic opportunity.
What good is education without jobs?
There prevails a lack of leadership
in helping to create a more favorable atmosphere
to break down the economic barriers that the Negro faces
in becoming part of the mainstream of the American economy.
The blood of this nation
flows through the veins of commerce and industry.
If the resources of big business are called upon
by the president of the nation and mobilized for concerted action,
we will greatly accelerate the achievement of the goals we seek.
In Boston that spring,
the uproar over school desegregation boiled over, and Russell joined the fight.
For three years, the city school committee had dug in its heels on the issue,
and so had its controversial former chair, Louise Day Hicks.
…stated as his policy that a racially imbalanced school
is not educationally harmful.
-Well…
Superintendent Ohrenberger and yourself do not have children
in a racially imbalanced school,
so you do not know what the effect is on our children.
One day, she came to give a graduation talk
at Roxbury Junior High School.
When the preacher and a little ad hoc committee of activists
made a fuss, she had him arrested.
Meanwhile, those kids didn't have their graduation,
so we hosted a special ceremony for them at a local church,
and I gave the commencement speech.
I ask myself, "Where are the other voices crying out for change?"
And there are small fires all over the United States,
and there's a fire here in Roxbury.
And nobody's listening. There's nobody listening.
What the people don't realize is
that a fire that consumes Roxbury consumes Boston. The fire will spread.
To me, Boston itself was the flea market of racism
in all the varieties, old and new.
The city had corrupt City Hall crony racists,
brick-throwing "send them back to Africa" racists,
and in the university area, phony radical chic racists.
Nevertheless, everybody in Boston used to speak in favor of Dr. King.
I was mystified.
Perhaps, Dr. King's dream of a color-blind society based on love
was being misinterpreted by Bostonians.
To them, "color-blind" meant that Blacks would be invisible,
which would be fine with them and not much different from reality.
Bill Russell is gonna make it known
that this is what's happening, and people need to know about it.
Why do we march? Why are we protesting? What is that actually doing?
People were afraid to speak out.
He knew his platform.
He knew how strong and powerful his voice was.
Opening doors, opening avenues for the younger generation.
When we take action and when we come together and we speak,
people do listen.
Big, high-profile athlete, there was a forum there for me
if I choose to use it.
Russell was never reluctant to voice his opinions,
but there were plenty of basketball fans
who preferred that he would just "shut up and play."
It developed through my career that, uh, I really didn't want a lot to do
with the people outside of the Celtics.
I played for the Celtics. I didn't play for Boston.
So I think that he was kind of jarring to a lot of white people,
who just expected you to be genuflecting because you were there.
Bill Russell did not genuflect.
At home in Reading,
he and his family were often treated as unwelcomed invaders.
I don't think anyone knew the sort of things
that were going on behind the scenes to my dad and my parents.
When the Russells returned home after a weekend trip,
they found that vandals broke in and ransacked the house.
They come home, and it's… it's… The place is trashed and everything.
It's crystal clear that it was someone who objected to, uh,
not just him living in the neighborhood but him being him.
Wrote all kinds of things on the wall.
You know, racial slurs and threats.
Returning to our home after a vacation, we found it trashed.
"Nigger" was painted on the wall with excrement,
and the pool table had been ripped up and covered with beer.
People, uh, smashed his trophies. They defecated in my parents' bed.
I was shocked. I didn't… I didn't know… I didn't know how racist the town was.
That Bill and the family had to go through it, it's heartbreaking.
Just heartbreaking.
The local police were unable to come up with any suspects.
Some argue that my "arrogant attitude" may have contributed to the home invasion.
When you talk about Russell,
you're talking about a guy who was already, um, pissed off
all the time, anyway, about the way Blacks were being treated.
He never did talk about those things publicly.
That sort of goes back to, "Well, he's misunderstood."
He could've easily held a press conference and said,
"These animals broke into my house,
and this is why you people might think I have a bad attitude."
Bill was defined as an angry Black man
because he wasn't going to let people forget
the reality of life in America.
I mean, people have to admit to the truth before we can move on.
Every single time he had an opportunity to play,
he was able to take all of that and focus and put it into the game.
I had never run across anyone with such a singular attitude and focus.
Always look for an edge. That's one thing I got from Auerbach.
Do everything you can to turn the percentages in your favor,
intellectually, emotionally, and physically.
I did talk a little trash.
Most guys talk trash just to be talking trash.
Bill Russell was not that type of guy.
Bill did it in a way
that it was going to directly affect the game.
He's gonna say something
because he knows that it's gonna get up under your skin.
And sure enough, it helped the Celtics to win.
Part of my responsibility to the team
was to divert an extra portion of the opponent's attack on myself.
Sometimes I'd make a speech out of the jump circle.
"All right, guys," I'd say to the other team.
"Ain't no layups out here tonight."
"I ain't gonna bother you with 15-footers because I don't feel like it tonight,
but I ain't gonna have no layups."
Or I'd lean over to one of the forwards and say, "If you shoot a layup,
you better bring your salt and pepper because you'll be eating basketballs."
Of course, I wouldn't say anything like that
to Oscar Robertson or Jerry West.
There are some guys you don't do that to.
Bill didn't trash-talk against me or anything like that
when he went into the basket
to make a layup because it might've backfired on him.
-I think my rookie year,
Russell was over here, and Satch and I were over here.
And Russell looks at Satch
and then looks at me
and then looks at Satch and says…
Can you guard that motherfucker?
Well, that shocked Bradley.
He'd never been called that before.
That thought made me start thinking, "What did he mean?"
"What is that about?"
A person with a high intellect that talks trash, that's the worst.
Because they're thinking about you and not the game.
Russ had that little game within a game.
He goaltended about two shots a game, on purpose.
Sure, the baskets counted,
but what it did was send a message to the players,
"Look how close I came to blocking your shot."
He was a master.
Out to Baylor, driving the lane. He lays it up. It's blocked by Russell.
Blocked by Russell. What a play by Bill Russell!
Russell was definitely arrogant, an intimidator.
Off the court, he intimidated people who'd come up to him.
He'd just stand like that and stare at them.
Wouldn't say anything.
He was this interesting mix of athlete and thinker.
He always could pick a certain move and visualize it in his head
over and over and over again before he actually went out and tried it.
He studied the game so diligently.
The idea that you could calculate the angle of the player coming at you,
know their abilities, how they like to go,
and then also see the rest of the court
to know that, "If I do this, the angle of trajectory will take it there."
This guy's a mathematician.
Bill's on-court mastery had always involved math.
Back in college at USF,
along with his Celtics teammate K.C. Jones,
Bill pioneered alternative ways to think
about the role of angles and equations in basketball.
We decided that basketball is basically a game of geometry,
of lines, points, and distances.
I had been daydreaming about solo moves, but he liked to work out strategies.
K.C. had an original basketball mind, and he taught me how to scheme
to make things happen, particularly on defense.
In those days, almost every player and coach thought of defense
as pure reaction.
K.C. thought differently.
He was always figuring out ways to make the opponent
take the shot he wanted him to take from the place he wanted the man to shoot.
He'd let a man have an outside shot
just beyond the perimeter of his effectiveness,
and instead of harassing the player, would take off down the court,
figuring I'd get the rebound and throw him a long pass for an easy basket.
He and I dreamed dozens of plays like these
and fed into our equations what we knew about the weaknesses of our opponents.
Gradually, K.C. and I created a little basketball world of our own.
We were inspired.
Rocket scientists in sneakers.
He always had this regal being about himself.
I look at pictures of him. There's one particular picture of him.
It's him standing at half-court with both hands on his hips,
in a sold-out Boston Garden.
And when I look at that, it was like
a king overlooking his fiefdom.
But as much as Russell was considered a genius on the court,
fans and sportswriters often criticized him
for being moody, aloof, and arrogant.
I am arrogant. I'll admit that.
But it's in whose definition of arrogant?
If a white athlete had done the same thing,
they wouldn't call it arrogant. They'd call it competitive, high-strung.
When you're Bill Russell,
and you live in a country that ostracizes you,
that only celebrates you for your athleticism,
"Here's what I'm going to do. Y'all get me in the arena."
"Outside of the arena, allow me to live my life."
As proof of Russell's perceived arrogance,
critics cited his refusal to sign autographs.
As a player, after 1964, he never signed them.
I always felt funny about autographs,
even as a recognized basketball player in college.
At first, I didn't pay much attention to the feeling.
I just signed my name because it was what everyone did.
But in the early 1960s,
I noticed that after a session of signing 50 or 60 autographs,
I felt strange about it for two or three days.
The public and the media was really upset.
And took it personal
that he chose not to share his personal space
and sign autographs.
You can't let the fans own you or dictate what it is that you do.
I cannot imagine the value of a scribbled name on a piece of paper.
What value can my signature possibly have,
and why should I have to sign it?
I give my money's worth on the playing court, period.
I am a public property when I play.
I'm a private property when I'm not playing.
If I want to sign, I will,
but no one has ever forced me to do anything.
You either buy me as Bill Russell the man, or you don't.
My signature isn't going to make any difference.
And the fact that I'm a basketball player is just an accident.
I love the fact that he was his own man.
He decided he was going to just play the game and…
and, uh, interact with his teammates.
He was always in control. That's what I want to say.
He'd rather be in a deep conversation
or maybe shake a gentleman's hand or a lady's hand.
That's fine.
If you know Bill Russell don't sign autographs, don't ask him.
He had his own convictions that he wouldn't change.
I like that about him.
President of the United States, he wouldn't sign an autograph.
I went up and asked him for his autograph, and guess what he said?
No.
And I started laughing, like, "Yeah, that's funny."
"Here you go. Go ahead and sign this."
He said no again, and he meant it.
I was trying to get all the players who I had played with
to sign their pictures,
so I could have them as a memento or whatever,
and Russell refused.
His statement was,
"Satch, we spend a lot of time together. We go out together."
"You know I don't sign autographs."
I said, "I'll kill this guy. You gotta be kidding me, Russ."
These are two of my non-autographed Bill Russell books,
that I keep right there between H. Rap Brown and James Baldwin.
I wouldn't have it any other way. They were personally non-autographed,
uh, for me by, uh, Mr. Bill Russell.
I saw him about three years ago when he was in town.
He said, "Hey, Satch, what's going on?" We started talking.
He said, "And I'm still not gonna sign an autograph!"
I think, in a lot of ways, my dad was ahead of his time.
And I think if you look at our celebrity-obsessed culture today,
you can recognize the pitfalls and perils of being a famous person.
I think he was criticized for not playing along or going along
and being more open,
and he also, unlike some other stars, I don't think ever needed that.
He was unapologetically himself at all times,
and if you can't respect that, then you got something wrong with you.
1963 through 1965, the glow had worn off basketball.
I thought it was a child's game and said so publicly.
How can I play basketball as a grown man in the same way I played it as a kid
when there are so many more important things going on?
I wanted to help change the world, and I was looking for a way to do it.
The Black revolution was beginning, and many other tides were turning.
You're a Black man playing this game.
It's riddled with racism, number one. You still can't go places.
And Black folks are catching hell. They're getting beaten, being attacked,
and here you are playing basketball for the Boston Celtics.
I think when you step back, you probably feel survivor's remorse.
Like, "What am I doing playing in front of all these white people…
-…having them cheer for me?"
"And they don't want me to live in their neighborhood."
You look at a television, you're seeing this abuse,
and you have a heart and a sense of consciousness.
You probably feel terrible. "Whatever I'm doing is not enough."
There are two societies in this country,
and I have to recognize it.
To see life for what it is and not go stark raving mad.
He gives interviews to Sports Illustrated,
to the Saturday Evening Post,
that speak to his emerging sense of disillusion with America.
In these articles,
he questions Martin Luther King's strategy of nonviolence.
He defends Malcolm X and the Nation of Islam,
which is anathema to most white Americans at the time.
He says sports isn't an area of racial enlightenment.
Sports reflects the larger racist patterns in American society.
What happens when you're that self-aware about what you're doing?
What does that do to your enjoyment of doing it?
As Bill Russell struggled
with his role and responsibility as a Black public athlete,
his team was about to face a turning point.
Coach Red Auerbach decided it was time to step down.
The '65-'66 season would be his last as coach.
I didn't want to go into the season,
and then if we win it, say, "Now, I retire."
They'd say, "Oh, you're just quitting a winner."
I said, "I'll quit at the end of this year regardless of what happens."
The question that mattered was who would take Red's place.
Red's first choice was team captain and star, Bill Russell.
What better way to motivate Bill Russell the player
than Bill Russell the coach?
I was the first guy he asked, and I told him I didn't want the job.
If not Bill, then who? That decision would have to wait.
In the meantime, there was a season to finish,
and with Red's impending retirement, a little extra incentive to win.
We wanted to make sure, when Red retired as coach,
that we won the championship his last year.
We felt that was gonna be the definition of his career as a coach,
was, "How did he finish?"
Giving Red a championship send-off would depend on the postseason.
After beating Philadelphia for the second year in a row
and claiming the Eastern Division title…
Boston has beaten Philadelphia 121 to 117.
…the Celtics faced the Lakers for the fifth time.
And as often happened, the series came down to the closing seconds
of a decisive seventh game, with the Celtics ahead by four.
Six seconds left, and suddenly, the Lakers have a chance.
Now it goes to Ellis. A quick jump shot, Ellis, is good!
Four seconds left, and the lead is down to two points.
All right, K.C. with the ball, gets surrounded. One second.
That's it. It's all over!
Havlicek got the pass, and he gets mobbed.
It's all over.
The Boston Celtics…
beat the Los Angeles Lakers 95 to 93.
And this crowd has surged out onto the floor.
Red and I both really wanted that game so that he could go out winning.
Red planned to stay with the Celtics as the general manager,
so he had to name his own successor.
He knew Russell needed a coach who would inspire him
and keep him interested in the game.
Who better than a current or former Celtic?
We both made out a list, and my first choice was Frank Ramsey.
Frank was retired down in Kentucky, and Frank could not leave.
We went to about three or four other guys,
and none of them were suitable to both of us.
And he told me, "I have to hire somebody."
He says, "I'm gonna go look outside the organization."
In desperation,
Red called Alex Hannum, the coach of the San Francisco Warriors,
formerly the player-coach for the St. Louis Hawks,
and an old rival Russell did not care for.
I says, "If you hire him, Red, I'm gonna retire with you."
Sitting with Russell, I said, "Who's gonna coach when Red retires?"
He said, "Alex Hannum,"
one of Russell's bitterest enemies.
I said, "You can't play for Alex Hannum."
"He's the one guy in the league you despise."
I said, "Listen, for Christ's sake, you're going to coach the goddamn team."
"You want to coach it, don't you?" "Yeah."
"So why don't you go tell Red you'll coach the team."
Now, about 25 minutes later,
I'm sitting in my hotel room,
the phone rings.
And it's Red Auerbach, and he says, "McSweeny, you son of a bitch."
I said, "Red, what happened?"
Bang, the phone hangs up.
A few minutes later, the door knocks. It's Russell. He said, "I'm the coach."
I thought I was somewhere-- I just hugged him, and I kissed him,
and I just tugged his beard.
And…
"It's the… It's the most wonderful thing in the world."
They had Cousy. They had Auerbach before him,
but they didn't have the World Championship
until they got Bill Russell, and now he's the player-coach.
I thought that if I could try coaching,
it would reenergize my relationship with the game.
It's basically what he should have gotten
based on what he had done.
Here he is, the new coach of the Celtics. The best to you.
-Thank you.
Bill, are you gonna be a carbon copy of Red Auerbach,
or will you be your own coach?
Nobody could be a carbon copy of Red Auerbach.
I'll have to do it my way. I'm a brick head too.
That's where I'll follow Red. I'll be a hardhead just like he is.
At the Celtics' annual end-of-season breakup dinner,
Russell signaled that his role might have changed,
but his feelings and expectations for his teammates remained the same.
I expect a lot out of this team next season.
I've never been associated with a team with more heart than this one.
I don't get close to many people, but you guys made me love you.
You treated me nicer than I've been treated in my life.
You guys are really my family.
The Celtics are more than a name or a team.
They are a way of life.
The announcement was momentous for the Celtics,
for all of sports, and, really, for the nation.
Russell would be the first Black head coach
of any professional team in North America.
But the press wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
Can you do the job impartially, without any racial prejudice in reverse?
Yes.
Now, you are, of course,
the first Negro to occupy a major coaching position.
Do you feel it puts extra pressure on you?
No, not at all. Other people put more emphasis on it than I do
because this is just, I think, a natural thing that I would get the job
or be offered the job.
Russell becoming the coach of the Celtics, a team that has won
umpteen titles already,
is a major event in American history, in terms of American sporting history.
I remember when I heard
that Bill Russell was gonna be the coach of the Celtics.
I was very, very happy about that.
And, you know, we're just talking about just five years from the quota system.
He became not just the face of the Celtics.
He became the part of the front office
that is most visible to the rest of the world.
I can't imagine what that's like,
trying to be great at both roles because they're so different
and require so much energy and perspective and thought.
So he's a better man than me.
Russell and the Celtics started the season strong,
winning ten of their first 12 games.
But more than any wins or losses,
one event deeply impacted Coach Bill Russell.
When the Celtics played an exhibition game in Louisiana,
Bill's father brought his grandfather to his first basketball game.
Mr. Charlie came into the dressing room with the old man.
After a few minutes, panic shot through both of us.
The old man was crying. I thought he was having a heart attack.
Then we both saw that he was not in pain.
He was staring as if stunned,
transfixed by the sight of Sam Jones and John Havlicek in the shower nearby.
My two teammates were busily lathering up and talking,
oblivious to the old man's emotion.
The old man looked up at us and made a slow pronouncement.
"I never thought I'd live to see the day
when water would run off of a Black man onto a white man."
He kept shaking his head.
"You know, I can tell those two men like each other."
You're in a position of taking over for the first time.
A long string of victories. Do you want to make any predictions?
If we don't have any key injuries, I think we'll go all the way.
He may have taken on more than he was ready to at that point.
He's playing an average of about 45 minutes a game
as well as coaching
and making sure we get to the spots we had to get to,
that the offense was running right,
and the defense was where it's supposed to be.
I bet you when he took on the job, he didn't realize
how much more it would take out of him to do that.
And it just happened to be that was the year that Wilt finally got it together
and had a tremendous squad in Philly.
Official pregame program, just 35. The official lineup in the program.
Wilt Chamberlain, read all about it in the official program lineup.
Over the last two years, the 76ers had evolved
from a team with promise into a powerhouse.
They boasted the best record in the NBA,
and Wilt finally found a team he could bond with.
Rejection's able to hurt you.
In the past ten years, the Celtics have won
nine of ten World Championships.
Last year, the 76ers were the "almost team" of the NBA.
The past cries out, "Beat Boston."
Back out to Greer. Greer wants to shoot. He does. It's good.
Boy, I tell you, these two clubs want at each other.
Greer on the left. He fires. It is no good.
The rebound by Chamberlain. Lays it in, and he was fouled on the play.
The Sixers dominated the first three games in the 1967 playoff series.
Wilt, now a veteran, had adjusted his game,
passing more and committing to team defense.
Beautiful block, Chamberlain!
Beautiful block, Chamberlain.
In his first year as player-coach in the NBA,
Russell inherited a solid organization, but it's leaking.
Went to the Garden, and all the ugly fans and the malicious attitude that they had.
It was not competition. It was confrontation.
A fan joins the melee.
The Celtics managed to win game four in Boston,
only to return to Philly,
where the fans were demanding the end of the Celtics dynasty.
Walker drives, lays it in.
This has been, I mean, just a tremendous ball club all year.
To Greer, he's being chased. He lays it in.
Philadelphia fans were chanting,
"The Celtics are dead. The Celtics are dead. Finally dead."
Bill Russell watches a dynasty crumble around him.
Five, four, three, two, one!
Wilt and the Philadelphia 76ers beat us because they were better.
They almost ran us off the court,
and I got an instant taste of the loser syndrome.
Though the Celtics had run off an unprecedented string
of eight consecutive championships, the fans in Boston hooted me.
"All washed up, huh?"
"I knew it couldn't last. You guys don't have it anymore."
I had to blink my eyes.
The Sixers went on to win the NBA Finals that year,
giving Wilt his first championship.
Meanwhile, in Boston, the postmortems on the Celtics' bitter defeat
focused on one man.
We had gotten in the habit of winning,
and as long as we were able to rely on Russell as the anchor…
…we thought that we would win 'em all.
Russ, being a man of pride,
was really hurt
over the fact that we did not win.
And he was embarrassed.
He was very quiet, didn't want to talk about the season at all.
That was the kind of guy he was.
He said, "Hey, we'll see what happens next year."
In case you haven't noticed
with all of the excitement of the World Series,
the National Basketball Association is about to start its season
on Saturday night.
Here at the Boston Garden,
all of the veterans will be back for the Celts,
and they'll be trying once again to get that crown back
that the Philadelphia 76ers took away from them.
I never made a prediction before.
All the years I was here, they'd say, "How you gonna do?"
I'd say, "I don't know. I don't have anything to say."
Last year, during the playoffs, they said, "How you gonna do?"
I said, "We're going to win it," and we didn't.
So I'm not going to say anything else anymore, ever.
Russell faced a dual threat his second season as coach.
One was to prove he could bring his team back to the championship
after their loss to the Philadelphia 76ers.
The other would grow out of a brutal war that would tear America
and the sports world apart.
I developed strong convictions about Vietnam very early in the war.
It seemed to me a continuation of the colonial wars
about which, as a Black man who opposed the colonies in Africa,
I felt sensitive.
In effect, the Vietnamese were saying
they didn't want Occidentals running their country.
We Americans didn't see it that way, of course.
As an empire, we insisted on defining the war
as a matter of communism versus democracy.
The bombs in Vietnam explode at home.
They destroy the dream and possibility
for a decent America.
Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?
The fucking commies run this place!
The war had sparked anger and bitterness and polarized the nation.
-What do we want? -Peace.
-When do we get it? -Now.
Among those opposed to the fight
was 25-year-old heavyweight champion Cassius Clay,
who had converted to Islam and taken the name Muhammad Ali.
Ali argued that his religious and ethical convictions
prevented him from fighting and killing people he didn't know.
I don't think I should go to Vietnam
and shoot people that never called me "nigger,"
never lynched me, never put dogs on me, never raped my mama.
Ali was facing the loss of his title,
federal prosecution,
a five-year prison sentence,
and a $10,000 fine.
What Muhammad Ali was doing
could bring an end to his career as a boxer.
He didn't mind losing millions of dollars. He was certainly very courageous.
He made us proud to be Black athletes
because he was showing me, through his actions,
what was important.
I don't know too many individual athletes
who would take the kind of course that he's taking.
This takes a tremendous amount of willpower and fortitude, etc.
A real belief.
The Cleveland Summit was basically a response by Black athletes
to the fact that Ali was refusing to go into the US military.
They wanted to show their support for their brother.
We never went to Cleveland to persuade Muhammad to join the Army.
We went to offer him our help.
There's nothing that says the heavyweight champion of the world
must belong to a particular religion or not be a conscientious objector to war.
We came out of friendship to Muhammad Ali.
And I know that we wanted to find out from him…
You read the papers, you see on television, all this kind of stuff.
…what is going on.
He stood up under many very difficult questions,
and, in essence, gentlemen, convinced us
that it is, basically, a religious matter with him.
He believes in his religion
and that his stand is based wholly on that.
The things that he has gone through
has had to make him a very lonely man.
This is the famous picture.
Probably one of the most iconic photos of the 20th century.
Seeing these Black men, these stars,
step out of their role as stars for the Cleveland Browns,
or stars for the Celtics, or stars for the Packers,
come out and say, "No, we're Black men first."
They felt a sense of accountability and responsibility
to leveraging their platform, their voice,
their wants and desires for the changes that need to be made in this country,
and what it means to be a Black athlete even.
I think what Bill and I had in common
is that we refused to give up our individuality
and deal with prejudice
and discrimination
and unfair practices.
If you're a star,
and if you say the right things and act the right way,
you'll make some money.
And if you're gonna be an activist, you have to give that up.
Bill was a special individual.
He, uh, could be counted on
to challenge things that were not correct.
Bill Russell captured the essence,
the soul and heart of what Ali was saying.
When a reporter asked Bill,
"What is going to happen to Muhammad Ali?"
Bill's response was,
"I'm not worried about Muhammad Ali."
"He's done something I haven't even been able to,
to find something I'm so committed to as a matter of faith,
I'm willing to put my life on the line."
"I'm not worried about Ali. I'm worried about the rest of us."
This is a CBS News special report.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.,
civil rights leader and Nobel Prize winner,
was shot and killed tonight in Memphis, Tennessee.
He was standing on the balcony of the Lorraine Hotel, on the second floor,
when a single shot came from across the street.
It apparently hit him in the neck.
The dream of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
has not died with him.
America shall not be ruled by the bullet
but only by the ballot of free and of just men.
I think everybody on every team, regardless of race or religion
or whatever,
felt a loss.
And it has impact on all of us.
Riots broke out in more than 150 American cities.
A rampage of arson and looting unmatched in the history of this nation.
It is the fiber and the fabric of the republic that's being tested.
Grief and anger exploded in cities across the country.
In Philadelphia, the Celtics were scheduled
to play the first game of the Eastern Division finals
against the 76ers the following day.
No longer are we going to stand around and wait while our leaders are killed.
I know I was in a state of shock all day.
I just sat around for four or five hours before I could speak of anything else.
Then I thought maybe I shouldn't play. I called Wilt.
Even athletes of the stature, of the celebrity
of Bill Russell and Wilt Chamberlain
couldn't get the NBA to say, "In honor of this great man,
we're gonna pause. We're not gonna play the game."
With the stadium already filling with fans,
Chamberlain demanded a vote in the locker room
whether they wanted to play or not.
We agreed it wouldn't be good to call off the game at that late date.
You got 10,000 to 12,000 people, and to call it off could be trouble.
In the end, the two teams decided to play.
Fans watched a stoic but unfocused performance,
even by the two great rivals, Russell and Chamberlain.
There's an eerie atmosphere.
There isn't the same sense of joy and thrill
that's associated with playoff basketball.
The Celtics managed to win 127 to 118.
Four days later, King was laid to rest in Atlanta.
King's funeral was attended by luminaries from politics,
the entertainment industry, and superstars of the NBA.
Many feared that his dream had died with him.
I had a great deal of respect for Dr. King.
He was the last buffer, you know.
Stuff I had said ten years ago,
that everybody dismissed as "an angry Negro talking,"
is coming out today, and that's what is so sad.
Nothing constructive ever comes out of violence.
Here's a man that believed in nonviolence,
and someone cuts him down.
It's a real tragedy.
On April 10th, the day after King's funeral,
the playoff series resumed at Boston Garden.
The 76ers outplayed and outscored their opponents,
and the Celtics lost 115 to 106.
Philadelphia won the next two games as well.
No team, not even the Celtics, had ever recovered
from a three-to-one deficit in a series.
The fat lady hasn't sung, yet.
And until the fat lady starts singing, it's not over.
The Celtics came roaring back in game five,
pummeling Philadelphia 122 to 104.
Now, the momentum had shifted,
and the Celtics won the next game at the Garden.
With relentless blocking and solid coaching by Russell,
they took the series finale in Philadelphia
to prove they were still champions.
Russell called it his most satisfying victory.
The Celtics would go on to beat the Lakers in the Finals,
Russell's tenth championship, and his first as head coach.
Bill Russell, congratulations on a great game and season.
Thank you.
Did operating as the coach and player take any more out of you this season
than in past seasons?
I don't think so.
Do you think the new Black athlete
can collectively bring about any social or political change?
I can say things that I did… I said over the years,
it's because I had a position of power, and that I was very good.
But conversely, that made me have more to lose,
in the sense of what they were talking about.
But it was nothing to lose to me because if I don't have my manhood,
I don't have anything.
Athletes are products rather than people.
I've been constantly harassed. I've been in solitary confinement
for approximately three months now.
-What are you? -Black Panthers!
Nothing's more important than stopping fascism,
because fascism will stop us all.
I tell you, I really feel totally inadequate.
Because after I've seen what the people are going through,
that my contribution is very, very minute.
Russ had threatened to retire the last three, four years.
I said, "Russ, you can't retire, man."
I said, "We need you to keep playing so that we can keep winning championships
and keep those championship checks coming in, okay?"
"We can't win without you."
On March 15th 1969,
during a game against the Baltimore Bullets,
the Celtics tied the score in the final seconds.
After gaining possession, Coach Russell called a timeout.
I was yelling, "We got them by the gym shoes! Let's kill 'em!"
Suddenly, I burst out laughing, and I couldn't stop.
The players thought I was crazy.
I was saying, "This is really something."
"Here I am, a grown man running around seminude
in front of thousands of people, playing a game
and yelling about killing people."
I looked at my teammates as if I had really said something profound.
They looked back blankly as if I hadn't said anything.
We threw the ball away, and the Bullets won.
In all my years of laughs in pro basketball,
I had never mocked the game itself.
You can't give out what a game requires
if you start focusing on its ridiculous aspects.
I already knew that there are no final victories in sports.
The games just keep going,
and the only final victory you can have is to walk away
from that last game intact.
I told myself, and no one else,
that I was playing my last season.
It was a brutal season for the Celtics,
who, in the eyes of the rest of the league,
seemed to be losing their edge.
The spells of inspired basketball became less frequent.
I knew that sometimes this happened because I was coaching as well as playing,
but a lot of it was that I just couldn't keep up.
Russell was obviously in his twilight.
Sam Jones, Satch Sanders were up in age, you know.
We used to call them geriatric.
When you start the game, these guys got bandages all over their knees.
They look like they're from the '40s.
They got the old black high-top sneakers on.
You're actually feeling sorry for them.
I'm at a stage in my career where each season is punishment.
The Celtics finished fourth in the Eastern Division that year.
It was supposed to be over.
No one expected them to win.
Despite their lackluster performance and the dire predictions,
Boston made it to the Eastern Division semifinals
to face the 76ers.
The Celtics overwhelmed Philadelphia.
Now, they would face the Knicks for the division title.
Philadelphia, we just knew we could beat Philadelphia.
We knew that.
New York, we had a problem.
Everything just clicked perfectly for the Knicks.
They had a hardworking but skilled leader at center in Willis Reed.
They had the cerebral forward Bill Bradley.
They had the dynamic guard with Walt Frazier.
At the start of the season, we were talking championship.
So now, here we are in the locker room,
saying, "Hey, man, this is it. This is what we talked about."
"This is why we play, so let's do it."
And we thought we could win.
The Knicks, they thought they had us that year
'cause they won six of seven games that we played in the regular season.
Willis Reed was the backbone of their defense.
He was helping everybody out.
And so I started changing our offense each game.
When they'd adjust to the low-post game, then I would go to the high-post offense.
By doing that, I changed the flow of the defense.
But everything considered, we were just a better team.
They didn't want to hear that.
Russell's game-to-game adjustments worked.
The Knicks went down in defeat.
Now, an 11th championship was in sight.
The Celtics would face the Lakers in the NBA Finals for the seventh time.
Coach, you just got Wilt Chamberlain.
How many people did you make mad doing that?
No, I think I made a lot of people happy.
I know I made all the coaches in the Eastern Division happy
because they think they have a better chance.
You have what amounts to a triple threat,
with three big players over there.
-What do you think you'll do this season? -I know one thing. We'd better win.
If we don't, then I won't have a job.
I've always felt that I wanted to play on a team
with guys like Jerry West and Elgin Baylor
and the other stalwart players on the Lakers.
I feel very, very happy that I am being traded.
I'm being traded to a team that I believe may stand a chance to go down
on the record as one of the best teams in basketball ever.
The Lakers had never beat the Celtics in the Finals,
but in 1969, with Chamberlain joining West and Baylor,
the team featured the NBA's original Big Three.
We were a better team, period. Period.
Boston was not worthy to be in the same league with us.
It was a team that was pulling straws.
Number 13, from Kansas, Wilt Chamberlain!
Everybody keeps talking about, "The Celtics are so old now."
"They can't win again."
Do you, deep down in your heart, feel you can do it again?
Yes.
This is for the World Championship of basketball,
ladies and gentlemen. It's all on the line.
As Russell and Wilt battled back and forth,
the game was decided by Jerry West, who scored 53 points
and led the Lakers to a game one victory.
Jerry West had the best game of any player that I've ever seen.
He was unstoppable.
The Boston Globe had asked Russell to write a daily dispatch,
giving readers his perspective on each game.
As always, he was outspoken and candid.
West's scoring was a big factor in the game,
but it was a two-point game, and that is a loss.
It wouldn't make any difference if he got 100 points,
and we won by one or two points.
The win is the important thing.
In game two, West scored 41 points,
once again leading Los Angeles to victory.
The confident Lakers now had a commanding two-game lead
on Russell's Celtics.
The Celtics were in trouble.
No team had ever lost the first two games and come back to win.
We allowed an average of 119 points a game.
We can't afford to give up that many points every game.
It doesn't matter who gets the points for the team.
The series moved to Boston for the next two games,
and the Celtics knew they had to win both
to give themselves a chance at an 11th title.
They took game three.
But in game four, the Lakers were ahead by one point
when the Celtics took possession with seven seconds remaining.
Sam Jones comes flying around three guys, throwing a pick.
Throws it up.
Bingo.
There's a second left, but the game is over.
Sloppy, but I'll take it.
Sam, the old man, came through with the clutch basket.
As the home team won each of the first four games,
the trend continued when the Lakers cruised to a game five win in Los Angeles.
Some things are better left unsaid.
So regarding Thursday night's game
with the Lakers, I have absolutely no comment.
Bill's disdain showed up on his home court the next night,
holding the man who once scored 100 points in a single game
to only eight.
Home court advantage had predicted the series,
and with Los Angeles set to host the final game,
the Lakers remained the favorites.
I can't help but wonder, how do you feel about going into another seventh game,
this time on somebody else's floor?
We've done it before.
Boston trying for its 11th championship in 13 years.
A dynasty, and the Lakers trying to end it.
The seventh game on the Lakers' home court,
the Lakers were finally gonna win that championship
that they had never been able to gain against the Boston Celtics.
Jerry West has summed it up.
He said, "We can beat this club."
And he said, "I may never get another chance."
We thought that we were gonna have problems.
To be frank with you, we weren't exactly as confident
as we had been in earlier times.
This is the big night, the night the Lakers could take it all.
They could become the World Champions of basketball.
Jack Kent Cooke had balloons put in the rafters of the Forum
that were gonna be let go after the Lakers won.
How could anyone even think of something so stupid
to put those balloons up there?
Jack Kent Cooke put out a sheet in all the seats.
When the Lakers win the championship, the USC band would play,
the balloons in the rafters would fall down.
Well, I took this back to Russell.
Sam showed me that, and I said, "Well, it is humanly impossible
for the Lakers to win the game tonight. The Lakers can't beat us."
If somebody messes with you
or talks about your mama
or pulls on Superman's cape, you know,
or steps on your corns, whatever,
or throws sand in your face,
you get angry, and anger takes you to another level.
Russell against Chamberlain.
The ball is tipped by Russell to Sam Jones.
He gives to Havlicek, who will drive against Baylor.
Havlicek, 20-foot fallaway is good. Havlicek with a basket in ten seconds.
Russell's whole strategy of what we were gonna do in the game,
we said, "We're gonna run them and run them and run them."
Sam, down the middle, shovel shot, good.
Around Siegfried, underneath, puts it up. Russell blocks it! Great play.
The Celtics are very fresh. The Lakers are standing around more.
They seem to be a little more tired than the Celtics.
The Celtics ran their way to a 17-point fourth-quarter lead.
The Lakers are down by 17 points.
But Jerry West and the Lakers refused to give up.
His shooting reinvigorated the Forum crowd
and brought the Lakers to within nine.
And all eyes shifted to Wilt.
Havlicek shoots, 15-footer, no good. Rebound is up.
Chamberlain's got it. Chamberlain is hurt. He hurt his right knee.
Chamberlain's at the other end, injured. He hurt his right knee.
Officials' timeout. Injury--
Chamberlain may have to leave the game.
Wilt has to leave. Wilt cannot continue.
Van Breda Kolff was furious.
"That big SOB!"
"How can he come out of the game?"
For my own selfish reasons,
I was offended the instant Wilt left the game.
I didn't think he was hurt that badly.
And even if he was, I wanted him in there.
We were close, oh, so close to finishing with a great game.
Wilt's leaving was like finding a misspelled word
at the end of a cherished book.
Mel Counts is going to come in for Wilt Chamberlain.
Mel Counts came in. He played really well.
One-bounce dribble, 12-footer by Mel. Good!
With Wilt out, the Lakers pushed the pace,
taking advantage of the aging Celtics.
You can see the momentum changing here
as the Lakers have a renewed spirit.
And almost evened the score.
They see the World Championship. They want it so bad, they can taste it.
The Lakers trail by one.
So Wilt says to me,
"Tell the man
I'm ready to go back in the game."
Van Breda Kolff, in all of his hysteria and his madness,
says, "Tell him, go fuck himself."
"We don't need him." And never put Chamberlain back in the game.
They've clawed back but still haven't caught them.
And the Lakers will come back without Wilt Chamberlain.
We were behind by one point,
with just a little over a minute to play.
I was guarding Havlicek, he had the ball, was dribbling around,
and I reach behind and knock the ball away from him,
right into Don Nelson's hands.
Standing on the free-throw line.
Don Nelson grabs the ball and takes the shot.
Quickly just pushed a shot off.
It hit the back of the rim and went straight up.
It bounced over the backboard.
It went about 13 feet in the air.
And went into the basket.
Erickson…
Knocked away, but Nelson gets it!
The shot is like a slow-motion dagger.
Don Nelson.
That is pure luck. Pure luck.
And it's like some other greater power didn't want us to win.
And the Boston Celtics have done it again!
Sometimes, I would think that Jerry was right
in thinking he was cursed when they played the Celtics.
Some people can get over it. I never got over that stuff.
I still haven't today.
It's like there's a… there's a hole in my heart.
It probably was the greatest disappointment
in my life as an athlete, not to beat them once.
The difference-maker was always gonna be Bill Russell.
Many, many balloons hang in the rafters,
but they will not be released.
You say, "Well, the Celtic gods are with them in the Forum."
That's some Boston Garden stuff.
And, of course, you'll have to say
that the Celtics are the greatest sports dynasty
in the history of professional athletics.
My teammates had played so hard
and had held up so marvelously
that I was just so proud of those guys and myself.
Bill, this must've been a great win for you.
Exactly.
One more time! One more time!
I know it's hard to say what's in your mind right now.
It must have been a great win.
This is such a great bunch of guys.
And it's just been so fabulous the way they played for me.
And it sounds all corny to start talking like that,
but I told these guys before the game, "I don't care what happens."
"I wouldn't trade you for any guys in the world."
After the game, I'm looking at Bill Russell to see when he's alone.
I'm 25 years old, red hair and freckles,
and I'm the whitest guy in North America.
And I go over.
And so I have to go to Bill, and I say, "Uh, Bill?"
And he kind of looks at me, and I said,
"Is there a chance that you're gonna retire now?"
And there's like a pause.
And Jim Brown, who's sitting there, he looks up at me, and he says,
"Retire? The man just won the World Championship."
"Why would you ask him if he's gonna retire?"
I'm not sure anybody else did realize that that was Bill Russell's last game.
He had interests that were broader than the game,
and I think his curiosity was kind of moving other places.
When Bill Russell told me that he was gonna retire from basketball,
I looked at him because I didn't believe him at first.
But I saw he was getting emotional about it,
then I started really to believe he was going to leave.
He ultimately announced his retirement via an article in Sports Illustrated
that paid him $25,000 to do so.
I have a year to go on my contract for the Celtics.
It's one of the most lucrative in sports, and I was very happy with it.
I had been paid to play, of course, but I played for a lot of other reasons too.
I played because I was dedicated to being the best.
I was part of a team,
and I dedicated myself to making that team the best.
But so far as the game is concerned, I've lost my competitive urges.
If I went out to play now, the other guys would know I didn't really care.
That's no way to play. That's no way to do anything.
All through this past season,
I had the eerie feeling that I'd been through this before.
Every play, every situation. Setting a screen, missing a shot.
I'd seen and done it all before. Everything had become repetition.
This is not the attitude to bring to still another season.
After… when I heard it, I said, "Oh my gosh."
Uh, you know, this is… this is a pretty historic moment
for a guy who could still play at a championship level,
and for him to say, "Heck with it, I'm not playing anymore."
The career was done.
He wasn't coming back.
The most outstanding team sport dynasty,
after that game, it was over.
Professional basketball went out of my life in 1969,
but it had a lot of company.
Everything in life seemed an encumbrance to me,
including my wife of 13 years, my three children, my Boston friends,
and my material possessions.
Within a few months of my retirement,
I also left behind my life in Boston and everything that went with it.
Every breath I took felt a little frosty.
I was venturing into the outside world after 13 years in a compression chamber.
I thought I owed something, but I wasn't sure what it was.
In my head,
I had known that basketball was not meant to protect me,
but I had never had to live without it.
Bill Russell packed one suitcase, got into his Lamborghini,
and drove to Los Angeles.
LA, as far as I'm concerned, that's where the action is.
I can promise you, nobody will have as much fun as I will.
Another stage, the entertainment business, beckoned.
I'd like to welcome one of the greatest basketball players of all time,
Mr. Bill Russell.
-Who wrote that introduction? -I did.
Well, what do you mean, "One of the greatest basketball players"?
Oh, excuse me, Bill.
The greatest basketball player of all time.
Bill made a few appearances on comedy shows and talk shows.
Good, Bill, you keep that up, they'll put you in a home.
I'll show you how to do it.
-Yeah, sure. -All right? Like this.
Mr. Tillinghast?
Yes, sir?
This is Mr. Tillinghast. Uh…
He hosted a short-lived talk show of his own.
My name is Bill Russell.
Will the real Bill Russell please stand up?
Russell even tried his hand at acting… with limited success.
To settle my debt.
And he appeared in a few TV commercials.
I can't miss! I can't miss!
By a long distance.
He served as an NBA analyst for several networks.
You know how it feels because you've been here before.
Me, I haven't scored a point.
You brought the guys here that score the points.
So, you're overpaid.
Russell also maintained a steady schedule of lectures,
sharing his experiences and philosophies with young people.
Now, to me, really seriously, education is the foundation you use
to think for yourself.
To be willing to accept responsibility
of being involved in mankind.
I'm Rob Chamberlain. I wondered, how--
-What'd you say your name was? -Rob Chamberlain.
-Chamberlain?! -Yeah.
-No relation. No relation. -I kind of figured you weren't related.
During one talk, Bill criticized Wilt Chamberlain
for leaving the '69 Finals after he was injured.
Let me read to you what Bill said.
"I think he copped out in the last series, in the last game."
"Any injury short of a broken leg or a broken back
isn't good enough."
He took himself out of that final game when he hurt his knee.
I wouldn't have put him back in either, even though I think he's great.
I never said Chamberlain didn't have talent,
but basketball is a team game.
I go by the number of championships.
I play to bring out the best in my teammates.
Are you gonna tell me you brought out the best in Baylor and West?
He talks a lot about what he's going to do.
What it's all about is winning and losing, and he's done a lot of losing.
He thinks he's a genius, but he's not.
The remark went public,
and the two friends didn't speak for years after that.
I shouldn't have said that because he hadn't done anything to me.
But I'm too hardheaded to apologize. So that's the way it goes.
If somebody says he's hurt, in my opinion, he's hurt.
You don't leave a moment like that unless there's something wrong with you.
What about now? Is it ever too late?
I don't even think about it anymore. It's something that's passed.
Uh, I know I shouldn't have done it. He knows I shouldn't have done it.
-Would it make a difference? -Not really.
I'm sure we're both able to live our lives
without that interfering with it too much.
His competitive friendship with Chamberlain
was just one more thing Russell left behind,
along with the Celtics and the city of Boston.
When his number was retired in 1972,
Russell refused a public ceremony.
Only his beloved teammates were present.
In Boston, some of the sportswriters can get, uh,
well, kind of tricky, you know?
And Bill probably resented
some of the things that happened in Boston
and probably brought it out. That was one way of doing it.
That wasn't the only time Russell shunned an individual public honor.
In 1974, he was chosen for induction into the Basketball Hall of Fame.
When my selection was announced, I issued a statement saying
that, for personal reasons, I preferred not to be inducted.
So the sportswriters jumped all over me.
Most of these writers assumed I think the Hall of Fame is racist.
I do, but there's more to it than that.
The report was that Russell,
and no one knows 'cause he hasn't said anything yet,
objected because there were no Black players.
And why is that?
Well, number one, we do have Black players. Not since 1946.
We would prefer,
if he has a legitimate question, gripe, reservation,
whatever it is, Bill, then we would like to know about it. But--
Because, absolutely, if we are wrong in some way,
we want to change.
On the other hand, we are quite convinced
that we're as open-minded as society can be,
and maybe more so.
Bill Russell's a real man. He stood up for what he thought was right.
He was a no-BS type of guy.
What it came down to was that I thought of the Hall of Fame
the same way I thought about autographs and having my number retired.
In each case, my intention was to separate myself
from the stars' ideas about fans
and fans' ideas about stars.
By 1973, Bill Russell had moved from California to Washington state
to be coach and general manager of the Seattle SuperSonics.
He brought them to the playoffs for the first time in their history.
A decade later,
he took on another unsuccessful team, the Sacramento Kings.
Failing to turn the team around,
Russell left after little more than half a season.
His family worries that, by the 1990s,
as the decade is closing,
as the NBA's starting to develop sort of an appreciation of its past,
people will forget about Bill Russell.
It's at that point that Russell reaches back to the public, really,
at the end of the 1990s.
Thirty years after his final game,
Bill Russell and Boston have finally made up.
And the reluctant celebrity who first had his number retired in 1972,
without fanfare,
this time let his fans share.
It was at the Boston Garden, a night of celebration for Bill Russell,
and dignitaries in the basketball world came.
I'm here tonight representing all the men my age
who grew up utterly in awe of Bill Russell, the athlete.
All the men who also learned from him how to be a man.
If you don't know anything about him,
if you can't stand the brutal truth,
don't talk to Bill Russell.
When I grew up in the '50s and the '60s
and had the opportunity to read his first book, Go Up for Glory,
my mom was a librarian and brought it home to me that day,
Bill Russell became my hero for life.
Knowing that we played a small role
on the greatest professional sports team dynasty that's ever existed…
…and you are responsible for that, Russ.
It's those moments that became key to understanding
the impact of Russell on this generation of athletes.
On behalf of the Celtic organization,
we'd be very remiss if we didn't give Bill Russell
a piece of the floor.
Upon this parquet,
you created the championship tradition of the Boston Celtics.
And he did!
-Bill, my pleasure.
I was totally embarrassed, to tell you the truth.
It was enlightening to have my friends say these things.
One of the things, I think,
that is very important for every person to know
is that you are not alone in the universe.
You come here alone and you leave alone,
but the rest of the time, the in-between, you're… you're not alone.
On that magical night,
one more surprise awaited Bill in the wings of the Boston Garden.
Ladies and gentlemen, Wilt Chamberlain!
The NBA's first icons had reunited,
and after many years apart,
realized their bond never broke.
My friend Wilt Norman Chamberlain
was far and away the best player I've ever played against.
Wilt and I could talk…
…and neither one was asking the other for anything except friendship.
I, uh… I thank you for this.
It's very humbling.
What I wanted to thank you for
is letting me come into your life.
And the folks that came to the Garden
and the fans, you were part of my life.
We love you, Bill!
I love you too.
Russell's basketball life was coming full circle,
but there would be heartbreaking losses ahead.
A grim discovery this afternoon at this mansion in Bel Air, California.
The body of 63-year-old Wilt Chamberlain,
widely considered one of the greatest players
in the history of basketball.
The authorities say the cause of death, an apparent heart attack.
Some of basketball's greatest came to Los Angeles
to pay their respects to one of the game's legends.
Former Boston Celtic Bill Russell
remembered his fiercest opponent on the court.
He sent me through hell so many nights.
But it was not a rivalry. It was a competition.
As we got older, the more we liked each other,
because we knew, basically, we were joined at the hips.
He and I will be friends through eternity.
What made them both special
was the fact that, even today,
here it is,
we're still talking about both men.
We need to carry forth that history.
We'll be studying the legacy of Bill Russell
for years to come.
This year's Medal of Freedom recipients
reveal the best of who we are
and who we aspire to be.
Bill Russell made possible the success of so many who would follow.
My daughter told me I was gonna get it.
First thing I did was get in my car and drove down to California
and visited my father's grave.
And, uh…
And told him about it.
And, uh… it made me feel a lot better.
Because, uh, I… basically, I said to him,
"You know…
I have to agree with you
that I did okay."
I hope one day, in the streets of Boston, children will look up at a statue
built not only to Bill Russell the player but Bill Russell the man.
After I got the Medal of Freedom, and Obama says,
"Someday, there'll be a statue in Boston of Bill Russell,"
and I told him I'd never forgive him for that.
A statue sounds, to me, a lot like a tombstone.
He says, "It's not so much for you as it is for the city."
"You've made a tremendous amount of difference
in community and race relations."
One of the most stirring sights after Colin Kaepernick took a knee
in protest of police violence and racial inequity,
was the sight of Bill Russell
taking a knee himself
and looking challengingly, directly into the camera
as if to say, "If you're going after him, then you're also going after me."
Bill felt a certain connection with Colin because, for Bill,
basketball was always about what he did
and not who he was.
His legacy will be Malcolm Jenkins
and Anquan Boldin
and LeBron James
and CP3
and D Wade
and Renee Montgomery
and the women of the WNBA and so forth,
who are stepping up in this generation and saying,
"We too have a contribution to make in terms of this struggle."
We have, especially as a collective,
real power to help support change.
You're saying the things that need to be said. You're taking a stance.
You're letting people know that what is happening is not okay.
And Bill Russell's whole career was that.
Players in my generation, it's all about, "What's next? What's next?"
But if you don't understand your history, you won't know where you're going.
Understanding the power that you do have,
that your voice and your opinion definitely matter,
and it carries on and off the court.
I love Bill Russell.
He had a soul. Some people have no soul. He had a soul.
Uh, he was just one of the most unique men I've ever met in my life.
And I don't say that because of his success
as a basketball player. He was a leader.
He was an activist
when it wasn't popular to be an activist,
uh, at the expense of his own career sometimes.
The things I knew about Bill,
when he thought about something he thought was right,
that's what he's gonna go by. That's called a stand-up man.
That's the way Bill was on a consistent basis.
Man can only ultimately be counted if he thinks he is doing right.
In the end,
I live with the hopes that when I die,
it will be inscribed for me,
"Bill Russell, he was a man."
The Boston Celtics lost an absolute legend today.
Bill Russell passed away at the age of 88, but his legacy will live on forever.
One of my dad's favorite quotes is, when he passes away,
he's not sure about heaven. Heaven could actually be a step down.
Because for him, heaven was playing for the Boston Celtics.
It's incredible to see the lasting impact of Bill Russell.
He really wanted to stand up and let people know
Black people should not accept the status quo.
And that's in sports, and that's out of sports.
How much he did for African Americans, what he stood for as a man,
what he had to endure to play the game basketball,
and how much he wanted to make life better for others.
We're still fighting these same battles.
Leaders and giants in society like Bill Russell
lay that foundation to give us that confidence that we can do it.
The NBA announced they were gonna retire Bill's number.
Nobody else in the NBA will ever be able to wear number six.
That's the winningest man to ever play in this league, and it's well-deserved.
Bill Russell had a set of convictions,
not just about the game but about life
and clearly about the country.
I mean, he was a patriot as an American.
And somebody who was never afraid to speak his mind,
no matter the consequences.
An icon, a legend, and a pioneer.
And he obviously embodies what being a true champion is all about.
Everyone should give him 5% of their contract, big guys. Seriously.
If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't be who we are.
Contemplating, the reflection.
What was,
what could have been,
what will be.
Bill Russell,
you've done your job.
The rest is up to us.
I can honestly say that I have never worked to be liked.
I've only worked to be respected.
What has my life been? Many things.
Many places, many conquests, many failures,
and a time of fierce loves and hates and issues.
I have fought in every way I know how.
I've fought because I believed it was right to fight.
I think that no man should fear the consequences
because every man must do what he believes is right.
I have fought for the rights of man, all men, all races, all religions.
Perhaps I will always march to the distant drum.
Perhaps I will never catch the beat of the tune.
But I will try.