Bill Russell Has Stood Out

I've always liked Bill Russell, and, in the past few days, I've been reminded why.

I've heard Russell being interviewed about his new book on his longtime friendship with the late Red Auerbach, and, the former Celtics' star, now 75, has been the same as always - charismatic, funny, interesting. His book is called Red and Me: My Coach, My Lifelong Friend.

Russell is an original. He's his own man - and proud of it. He usually says what he wants and laughs whenever he feels like it. Most of the time, he does not give the "stock answer" that interviewers seek and enjoys being a contrarian. His spontaneous loud, high-pitched laugh is infectious; in fact, sometimes just hearing Russell's laugh triggers me to laugh.

Russell is a man of principle who seems bound to his convictions. Russell always stood out from his peers on and off the court. He was the consummate "team player," helping lead the Celtics to 11 championships in 13 seasons. He was one of the best defensive basketball players in history. Red Auerbach, in 1964, said that Russell "singlehandedly revolutionized the game because he made defense so important."

I remember, as a kid, listening to Johnny Most call the great 76er-Celtic games when Russell dueled with Wilt Chamberlain. I remember taking my little transistor radio to bed so I could enjoy Most' enthusiastic play-by-play calls. I can still hear Most going crazy as he blurted out: "Blocked by Russell!" For some reason, I felt so invested in Russell holding his own against Chamberlain. That rivalry was an early spark that helped light my connection to sports.

Off the court, Russell was a strong, compelling personality during a time of pervasive racism in Boston and elsewhere. He asserted himself, when necessary, against acts of racial prejudice. For example, once Russell refused to play a 1961 exhibition game to honor former Celtic teammate Frank Ramsay in Ramsay's home state of Kentucky after Russell realized he would not be served a meal at the hotel restaurant. Russell and three other black players decided to go home.

Russell joined other black leaders such as Muhammad Ali and Jim Brown in speaking out against racism during the 60s. Russell was among the first celebrities to call himself "black" when "negro" was still the widely-used term. Russell attended the March on Washington in 1963. (Russell had observed, growing up, how his parents were victimized by racism and when he was subjected to it repeatedly, he was not afraid to speak up and follow his conscience).

Unfortunately, Russell's own experience in Boston was clouded by the presence of racism. Even when the Celtics were thriving, fans didn't fill the Boston Garden, and, in city neighborhoods, racial tension was often in the air. Russell seemed to enjoy his teammates and his coach, but, he had a difficult relationship with the media, and, low expectations of his tie with fans. Some recall Russell's "surly" side. He had an edge (that I found interesting) and an enigmatic, aloof side that probably made him less accessible to fans. Russell once said: "You owe the public the same thing it owes you -- Nothing."

Russell, unlike many players - particularly stars, almost never signed autographs despite continuous pressure to do so.

When Red Auerback decided to retire, he named Bill Russell to be player-coach of the Celtics in 1966. Russell was the first black coach in all of professional sports. After a initial, losing season, in 1969, Russell led the Celtics to a last championship for his era. The Celtics had a private ceremony to retire Russell's jersey in 1972. Then, in 1975, the NBA Hall of Fame inducted Russell, but, he, reportedly, chose not to attend either event.

After leaving Boston, Russell later became a coach in Seattle and in Sacramento and worked as a television color commentator during NBA games. He brought his own style to the TV job, including his unique laugh. Often his comments were too lengthy, but, in an odd way, I admired that Russell, was even resisting the conventional "norms" that went with that job.

Many years later - in 1999 - the Celtics held a public tribute to Russell at the Fleet Center, which had replaced the Boston Garden, and re-retired his No. 6 jersey. I attended the event with my brother and was struck by the array of prominent guests who appeared on stage to honor Russell - not only great players like Larry Bird, Wilt Chamberlain, Julius Erving, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar & others, but also, Jim Brown, Bill Cosby, Bryant Gumbel, Aretha Franklin and Johnny Mathis and other national figures.
I sat there and felt so glad for Russell - that he was finally being acknowledged and that he appeared to enjoy it. Yet, I also felt a bit sad because the crowd, while large, in my view, should have - been much larger - and, in an odd way, it seemed that Russell was getting more recognition from this "national" group of guests than from Boston.

In the past ten years, Russell has returned often to Boston and seemed to have developed a new, positive connection to the city, the Celtics and, even, the fans here.
This brings me to my own brief encounter with Bill Russell - an incident I had as an eight or nine-year-old boy that has stayed in my memory to this day.

It was 1963 or 64 and my father took me to a Celtics game at the old Boston Garden. We watched the whole game and, afterward, an old sportswriter friend of my father's brought us down to the Celtics' locker room. It was very exciting for me to get a glance at all my favorite players - John Havilicek, Larry Siegfried, KC Jones, Sam Jones.....and, of course, Russell. After I'd had a chance to get a few autographs, my father and I found ourselves standing next to Red Auerbach, who was sitting in close proximity to Russell. I recall Auerbach, seeing my bright red hair, pointing to his bald head, and saying "I used to have red hair."
My father had met Auerbach before and asked if he'd help get Russell's autograph for me. Red asked Russell, and Russell - in what apparently was an exception - signed his name on a piece of paper for me. Then, my Dad asked Russell - within earshot of Auerbach - if, by chance, he could sign another autograph for my brother. That prompted Russell to pause a second or two. Auerbach remarked: "Go ahead, Russ. Sign it for him" or words to that effect.

Then, Russell, in a partly snappy, but firm, serious tone, replied to Auerbach:

"I'll do it because I want to -- not because you tell me to."

He signed the second autograph and we left. I was in a daze - in disbelief that I had just had this experience. Little did I know that for years, I would remember Russell's impromptu retort to Auerbach. I've told the anecdote to many people through the years and tried to imitate Russell's tone of voice as he said it. And, I found that sometimes, I'd be in moments when I'd think of Russell's remark -- when I didn't like someone telling me what to do. Later, it became a joke with a close friend that - if either I or someone else expressed that same kind of protest, pride and independence at the same time, we'd call it "a Russell"

I later told my daughter about that line and she memorized it.

"I'll do it because I want to -- not because you tell me to."

One-line quotes are rarely good symbols of a person's character, but, somehow, I've always felt that line that I heard Russell say in the locker room more than 45 years ago - was a decent representation of Russell's important traits.

That Russell remark has always stayed with me - as have other aspects of his personality.

Bill Russell is a public figure who has influenced my life from a distance.