A big shout-out to my buddy Leroy Watson, for helping me out loads with this article. Couldn't have done it without him.
"...but the C's were finally overcome by Chamberlain's Sixers, losing in just five games in the Eastern Conference Finals.
How did Russell regain his dominance over the NBA? And what can we learn upon closer inspection of his mind and attitudes towards life?
Stay tuned for the answers to those questions and more in part two..."
The 1967-‘68 season also had its ups and downs. Martin Luther King Jr. had been shot in a brutal, cold-hearted assassination.
With a number of the Sixers and Celtics players being African-American, the two teams started the Eastern Conference Finals series seeming as if they were shell-shocked. The Celtics didn't wake up out of their foggy slumber until they noticed they had fallen behind, three games to one.
Being coached by Russell, the C's became the first team in NBA history to climb back from a 3-1 deficit. Riding on momentum, the Celtics again won the championship, this time playing against the Los Angeles Lakers.
The 1968-‘69 season, despite being Russell's last, was undeniably the big man's most memorable in my mind. Russell was somewhat slowed by depression with the Vietnam war taking place, Robert F. Kennedy being murdered, and reports of his marriage also going south.
He was diagnosed with "acute exhaustion." However, his resilience was on display that year as he bounced back to average 9.9 ppg and 19.3 rpg.
This was another display of Russell's heart. Despite feeling that there was no purpose in playing basketball anymore, he did not let the multiple tragedies get him down for a long period of time. He propelled his team to victories, and squeezed out of yet another tight jam.
In other words, just Bill Russell being Bill Russell—the winner.
In the ever famous "balloon game," the Celtics were in a sense, David, while the Los Angeles Lakers were Goliath.
LA had acquired Wilt Chamberlain to place beside Jerry West and Elgin Baylor, an offensive trio that would leave a lesser team quaking in fear.
Not Bill Russell and his resilient Celtics.
Before the final game of the series, the Lakers' owner, Jack Kent Cooke, basically predicted a Lakers win by putting celebratory balloons up in the rafters secured by a machine that would let them fall seconds after the game ending buzzer (if LA won).
Russell used this as inspiration for his team, and sure enough, they fought back to win the series. The balloons never fell.
The Lakers came in heavily favored over the C’s, who just did manage to scrape into the playoffs as the No. 4 seed in the East.
Jerry West lit the Celtics’ perimeter defense up for 38 PPG in the series, and was named Finals MVP. . . in a losing cause, the first (and only) time in NBA history that’s happened.
The Celtics became the very first team to win a Game Seven on the road, giving Bill Russell his 11th championship in 13 years—more rings than fingers.
In a way, Bill Russell had the power to fulfill or crush dreams for another player. Many times, the crushed dreams were the ones handed to the fans, players, and management of the Los Angeles Lakers.
Lakers’ forward Rod "Hot Rod" Hundley commented, "If we played Boston four on four, without Russell, we probably would have won every series. The guy killed us. He's the one who prevented us from achieving true greatness."
And here is, in my mind, the biggest reason why Bill Russell gave Wilt's team a great deal more trouble that Wilt gave in exchange. Russell had the passion, the want. He couldn't stand the bitter thought of losing to Wilt. It probably disgusted him.
Russell could speak to his team in a more fervent way. Wilt had to think long and hard about his pregame preparations; but for Russell, it was merely impulsive, second nature. Russell could give more riveting speeches to hype his team up, more exciting pep talks.
In return, Russell's team rarely let him down. They didn't often fail in performing up to his high bar. This brings me to a point that's long overdue to be made:
Bill Russell is, unquestionably, the greatest winner in the history of American professional sports. In 13 historic years, Russell won an unprecedented 11 titles. As a player he won nine, as a player-coach he won two more.
He not only gave himself a chance to hold up a Larry O'Brien trophy, but others with lesser talent than he had. He made others better, a rare quality in a center, usually only found in a guard or sometimes a small forward.
He was everyone and everywhere on the court. He was the barbarian he needed to be down low, but he also graced the court with a balletic fluidity, something that set him apart from any other big man.
Russell believed in intimidating and frightening your opponents; standing up and battling in the face of fear was to win morally.
Russell gave his thoughts on blocking shots with this quote: "The idea is not to block every shot. The idea is to make your opponent believe that you might block every shot."
But don’t sell him short as merely a physical specimen; Russell also had a great mind. He played the game mathematically, as many other greats do.
Russell said in an interview with the non-profit educational entity, Academy of Achievement, "My coach and I -- I call Red Auerbach 'my coach' -- his background was math. We used to talk all the time about the game and life and things, but mostly equations.
“When you think about the game of basketball, it's played in a cube. There are boundaries: floor and ceiling, left, right, back and forth. And the other confinement is time. So what you do within those boundaries with the allotted amount of time is where the game is."





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