What Is Dead May Never Die: NBA players who left too soon
Bill Walton
By Kris Fenrich (@dancingwithnoah)
Depending on who you ask, Bill Walton has endured somewhere between 36 and 3,057 surgeries including being undercut by a player in what he described as “a despicable act of intentional violence and a dirty play.” But if you were ever caught up in the blender of Walton’s descriptive spoken word which ranges from vociferous opinions to hyperbolic absurdities with barrels of unintentional comedy in between, it’s merely a box of crayons next to the Technicolor oceans and psychedelic waves of his imaginative, but painfully limited NBA career.
In a career that spanned 13 NBA years, Walton missed three entire seasons due to foot surgeries. Of the remaining ten seasons, the giant granola-munching Californian missed 352 of a possible 820 games – or roughly 43% of all games. Human impermanence robbed Walton not just of on-the-court joie de vivre, but even of his contagious, if occasionally annoying, zest for life which reached itslow post-basketball point around 2010 when he, “was standing on the edge of the bridge, figuring it was better to jump than go back to where I was.”
But it’s Walton’s awe-inspiring basketball ability that brings us here today. At 6-foot-11, he was one of our species’ genetic lottery winners. His build was long, naturally lean with square shoulders; the type of build you’d expect to see slicing into the waves of the Pacific, built to be one with nature. But instead of doing a 1970s version of a giant hippy Michael Phelps, Walton adopted America’s beautiful game and like any genius, before reaching his breathtaking summit, he first developed the type of fundamentals upon which the great improvisations can be made.
In the rare clips available of his NBA days, even the amateur viewer can spot Walton’s master class level court awareness that Portland coach Jack Ramsey tapped into for the memorable Blazers run of 1977. His combination of impeccable post play and deft touch around the basket demanded defenses pay his presence all their mind. Hell, back in his days barnstorming as a UCLA Bruin under the tutelage of then-Living Legend John Wooden, Walton, in the characteristic UCLA way of being quick, but not hurrying, audaciously shot 21 for 22 from the field 1973 NCAA Finals on his way to 44 points – that lone miss was likely intentional, a nod to the gods that, despite UCLA’s once-in-a-lifetime dynasty and 88-game win streak, perfection would never be attainable. But Walton’s scoring acumen combined with the type of passing ability that has marked cult favorites from Ramsey’s Blazers to Bird’s Celtics to Webber’s Kings, and now Pop’s Spurs, made him a bright red radiating nucleus at the center of Portland’s passionate basketball-loving universe and in one of his lone healthy seasons, he delivered eternity to the City of Roses in the form of an everlasting NBA Championship punctuated by his game six performance in which all of his bonafide powers were on full, blooming display against Dr. J’s 76ers. Walton was spectacular, finishing with 20 points, 23 rebounds, 7 assists and 8 blocks – a performance so magical it let led to an almost infectious transfer of exuberant expressiveness from Walton to his teammates:
Maurice Lucas talking about Walton’s jersey which was thrown to the crowd: “If I had caught the shirt, I would’ve eaten it. Bill’s my hero.”
Dr. Jack Ramsey: “I’ve never coached a better player. I’ve never coached a better competitor. And I’ve never coached a better person than Bill Walton.”
Say what you want about the idiosyncrasies of Walton the announcer or the Walton the man, but even if you try to adopt his trademark exaggerating style when describing his game, it’s likely you’ll still fall short of conveying the joy it was to behold the great redhead, injury-free, his gait in full alignment, galloping up and down the hardwoods of the Memorial Coliseum, swatting shots, dropping brilliant passes to blurring cutters, forever etching himself in the collective memory of basketball greatness.