When the Game Was Ours

Amazon Exclusive: Bill Walton Reviews When the Game Was Ours Bill Walton played in the NBA for 13 years, and in 1996, was named one of the top 50 players in NBA history. He's been an analyst for CBS Sports and NBC Sports, and since 2002, he's been a game analyst for ESPN NBA telecasts. Read his guest review of When the Game Was Ours : Larry Bird and Magic Johnson are transcendent, iconic and timeless standard bearers of excellence who changed "The Game" forever, always bringing out the best in each other and never failing to put a smile on all our faces. I was one of the lucky ones. I had the incredible good fortune to have witnessed firsthand the Bird/Magic rivalry. It was an intense and constant thing for us all. But even I didn't realize how powerful their connection was until I read When the Game Was Ours , a riveting and page-turning masterpiece that could only be written with the help of someone like Jackie MacMullan, who was there every step of the way and who sensed there was a whole lot more to their story than what happened on the court or got played over and over again on the highlight reels. In this book, Larry and Magic tell stories like they never have before. I was enthralled, page after page. Theirs was a unique relationship. They were polar opposites, but in ways few of us realized they were very much the same. They both wanted the same thing, day in and day out--to win. And did they know how to win. When the Game Was Ours perfectly captures the defining moments of their lives from the very beginning of their fiercest of rivalries through their constantly evolving historical relationship and friendship right up to the present. This epic tome is the capstone of their landmark careers. It is also so much more than anyone could ever dream for. When the Game Was Ours brilliantly explains why "The Game" will always belong to Larry and Magic.-- Bill Walton (Photo © Joe Faraoni/ESPN) Amazon Exclusive: A Q&A with Larry Bird and Magic Johnson Amazon.com: It was interesting to learn that a fast break during an exhibition game sparked the start of your long friendship. Talk about that play and how it set the stage for future Bird vs. Magic battles. Larry Bird: What I remember about that play was we had the defender spinning around like a top because we moved the ball so quickly. I had never played with anyone who could pass the ball like Magic. I was blown away by the things he was doing on the court. But once we were done as teammates on that All-Star team, I moved on. And, a year later, when we played against each other for the NCAA championship, I treated him like he was just another guy. I wasn't too big on being friendly with people I was trying to beat. I think that upset him, but I didn't care. I was always taught, "Don't talk to the enemy." Earvin "Magic" Johnson: I already knew about Larry before we played in the World Invitational Tournament. I was dying to meet this guy who went to Indiana, quit school, worked on a garbage truck, then came back and started putting up really big numbers for Indiana State. We played on the second team together during those exhibitions, and the way we moved the ball, we were better than the starters! That one play was so fast, so amazing, those Russian players had no idea what hit them. We didn't spend a whole lot of time together off the court, because Larry kept to himself, but I was real excited the following spring when I realized our Michigan State team was going to play his Indiana State team for the NCAA championship. I went over to say hello to him at the press conference a day or two before the game, and he totally blew me off. I couldn't believe it. I left thinking, "That Larry Bird, he's kind of a jerk." And the rivalry was on. Amazon.com: Where did you each develop your love for the game? Bird: My two older brothers, Mike and Mark, played basketball all day long. They were bigger and stronger than me, so they were better in the beginning. But I loved the way it felt when the ball dropped through the strings, so I was out there all the time, day and night, working on my game. I wasn't going to stop until I could beat my brothers. And by the time that happened, I was hooked on the game. I couldn't live without it. Johnson: I honestly can't remember a time when basketball wasn't a part of my life. I grew up in a big family, so we played all kinds of sports, including basketball. I loved the way the ball felt in my hands. I took my ball with me everywhere--to school, to the store, to the school dances. People in Lansing, Michigan, got used to seeing me walking down the street dribbling my ball. I wasn't going to stop until I was in the NBA. Amazon.com: If you could each replay one game from the past, which would it be and why? Bird: I'd like to go back to the 1987 Finals, to the game when Magic sunk his junior junior hook. It was down to the final seconds, and Magic had Kevin McHale isolated out on the wing, and when he drove past him to the basket, our center, Robert Parish, came over to help, and I came over from the weak side, but probably a second too late. I never expected Magic to shoot a hook. I had never seen him do anything like that before. People forget that even after that basket, we still had a chance to pull it out. I got a great look from the baseline in the final seconds, but the shot rolled off. If I could go back and replay that game, maybe we would have won it, and possibly the series as well. Johnson: That's easy. I'd go back to Game 2 of the 1984 Finals, when we were in Boston and about to take a 2–0 lead in the series, and instead I called a time-out in the final seconds. If I hadn't called it, we would have run out the clock and taken total command of the series. Instead, because of the time-out, the Celtics were able to set their defense, and James Worthy's pass was intercepted by Gerald Henderson. That was one of the most disappointing losses of my career, and I've never forgotten it. Amazon.com: One of the most powerful moments in the book surrounds November 7, 1991--the day Magic announced he was HIV positive. Magic, why was it so important to you to contact Larry before the news hit? Johnson: You've got to understand that by this point, we're like Joe Frazier and Muhammad Ali. Nobody talked about one of us without mentioning the other. We were that connected. I knew the minute the news hit, people would be flocking to get a reaction from both Larry and Michael Jordan, so I felt I had to give them some warning. Also, by then, Larry and I had developed a bit of a relationship. In spite of all our battles, I felt a real affection for him. He needed to know, and he needed to know from me. Amazon.com: Larry, what do you remember most about that day? Bird: The feeling I had in the pit of my stomach. It was a horrible, awful feeling. I just remember lying in my room, trying to take a nap, and all I could think about was that Magic would be dead soon. At that time, we didn't know much about HIV. We all just assumed he had been given a death sentence, and that was really shocking to think about. Amazon.com: How did winning a gold medal with the 1992 Dream Team compare to winning an NBA championship? Johnson: That whole experience in Barcelona was amazing, fantastic. At that point, I was technically retired from the NBA because of my HIV illness, and I missed basketball so much. To be out there playing for my country, not to mention alongside Larry and Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley and Patrick Ewing, was one of the biggest thrills of my life. I savored every single moment of it. Bird: It was a little harder for me because my back was in such bad shape, and sometimes it was hard for me to enjoy it because of the pain. I just wanted to get into a game and make a contribution and be able to say I did it, that I was part of an Olympic team. And once I did that, I was happy. My goals were pretty realistic in Barcelona. Still, I didn't realize how amazing it would feel to be up on that medal stand, alongside Magic, John Stockton, Patrick, and all the guys, with that gold medal around my neck. That is one special memory. Amazon.com: Who carries the NBA torch today? Johnson: There's some great young talent out there, but I've got to choose the Laker, Kobe Bryant. I think he proved in the 2009 NBA championship that he learned how to balance his own individual skills with those of his teammates. That was a big step forward for him. What I liked best about Kobe was watching him enjoy himself. The game is supposed to be fun. Larry and I never lost sight of that. Bird: You certainly couldn't go wrong choosing Kobe, but I'm a LeBron James man. He is so strong. He's also fearless, and he's convinced he can do anything. That's what stands out to me. He still has some steps to take, like bringing the same effort defensively every night that he brings on the offensive end, but he has all the tools to accomplish that. He's going to have a long, successful career that will include some championships of his own. Amazon.com: If you both laced 'em up right now, who would win one-on-one in H-O-R-S-E? Bird: Nobody beats me in H-O-R-S-E. Besides, Magic can't shoot. Johnson: Larry, you'd have no chance against me one-on-one. I've got too many ways to beat you. Plus, as slow as I am, I'm still faster than you. (Photo © Marc Serota RRA Media) Photographs from When the Game Was Ours (Click on images to enlarge) Magic and his high school coach George Fox Larry and his mother Georgia in Salt Lake City, 1979 Magic and Larry in a pregame meeting of team captains Larry and Magic for a NBA promotional campaign Larry and Magic in between takes of the 1985 Converse commercial Larry, Commissioner David Stern and Magic Larry, Michael Jordan, and Magic in their Dream Team uniforms Magic congratulates Larry at his retirement ceremony “MAGICBIRD, BIRDMAGIC really should be the titled “When the Game was Mine” because that is how they went after each other on the court. In When the Game Was Ours you will enjoy an exhilarating ride down one of the most competitive rivalries ever.” — Pat Riley "Finally—a book that tells the story of Magic and Larry from their vantage point. When the Game Was Ours took me inside their fascinating rivalry with new insights and revealing details about two men who evolved from bitter competitors into lifelong friends." — Denzel Washington "At long last the great book on Bird and Magic—their own account, told from behind the scenes, inside huddles, confidential phone conversations, backseats of cars, and most importantly, from their inner hearts. Their book is alive with truth—it's a story of brilliance, brilliantly told with the help of prize-winning writer Jackie MacMullan." — Sally Jenkins , author of The Real All Americans, Funny Cide, and It’s Not About the Bike with Lance Armstrong " When The Game Was Ours is the ultimate insiders' account of the rivalry, the friendship, the tension and the bond between Bird and Magic that launched the modern NBA. A real treat for all hoops fans." — Tom Verducci , author with Joe Torre of the #1 New York Times bestseller, The Yankee Years "You know that game where you pick a certain number of characters for your favorite dinner party of all time? (The one where you picked Gandhi, Babe Ruth, Li'l Wayne and, who was it, Jenna Jameson?) I just spent a couple of nights with Larry Bird and Magic Johnson in the lyrical When The Game Was Ours and they should be in the mix. They're funny, frank, anecdotal and just plain interesting. This book is terrific." — Leigh Montville , bestselling author of Ted Williams and The Big Bam "Unprecedented insight and commentary from the stars themselves on their unique relationship, a compelling mixture of bitter rivalry and mutual admiration... Offers a captivating look at the NBA’s greatest era." -- Kirkus Reviews "Highly entertaining . . . A thrill-packed, lively and moving dual memoir." -- Shelf Awareness "A terrific read." -- Sports Illustrated "Spectacular." -- Dan Shaughnessy, The Boston Globe "An unbelievable read." -- Improper Bostonian "You have to read this book!" -- Conan O'Brien "A must-have for any basketball fan." -- Jimmy Kimmel "A winner...Deftly explores the relationship between the former NBA superstars that started at arm's length [and] became a lasting friendship." -- USA Today "Greatness commands our attention . . . uplifting . . . If ever there was a two-man Dream Team, they were it." -- New York Times Book Review "In MacMullan’s capable hands, the tale is re-energized . . . a wonderful waltz down memory lane . . . A compelling and enjoyable read, every bit as entertaining as watching Magic and Bird battling on the parquet." – Boston Globe "Fascinating . . .The former Boston Globe reporter and columnist masterfully weav[es] the recollections of the two protagonists with those of dozens of observers . . .The book is at its most powerful when it hews close to its premise: the evolution of perhaps sports' greatest rivalry . . . The game of basketball has never been better than when it was theirs." -- Washington Post Larry Bird, in his 13 seasons with the Boston Celtics, claimed 3 NBA titles, 3 MVP awards, and was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1998. In 1992, as part of the x93Dream Teamx94 he brought home an Olympic gold medal. He served as head coach of the Indiana Pacers from 1997 to 2000. In 2003, he assumed the role of president of basketball operations for the Pacers, which he currently still holds.Earvin x93Magicx94 Johnson, Jr., in his 13 seasons with the Los Angeles Lakers, claimed 5 NBA titles, 3 MVP awards and was elected to the Naismith Hall of Fame in 2002. He also won an Olympic gold medal as part of the 1992 x93Dream Team.x94 Currently, he is the Chairman and CEO of Magic Johnson Enterprises and Vice President and part owner of the Los Angeles Lakers.Jackie MacMullan is a nationally recognized sports columnist, who spent three decades at the Boston Globe and covered the NBA for Sports Illustrated in the late 1990s. She is a frequent correspondent for ESPN, CNNSI and local Boston television networks. She is also a regular contestant (and the only female one) on ESPN's Around the Horn. From The Washington Post From The Washington Post's Book World/washingtonpost.com For sports fans who came of age in the 1980s, nothing in the known universe was as important as Bird vs. Magic. In a debate -- "Who's better, Bird or Magic?" -- you would have staked your life on your answer. When you played hoops alone and fantasized about the final seconds ticking down, you were either one or the other. And when Larry Bird's Boston Celtics and Magic Johnson's Los Angeles Lakers played each other, you would sooner have given away your entire baseball-, basketball- and football-card collections than miss a minute of it. The passage of time has only enhanced the legends of Bird and Magic. We can look back now and understand how their simultaneous arrival in the league, their immense talents rivaled only by their shared competitiveness, saved the NBA from its twin epidemics of drug abuse and uninspired play. Bird and Magic mattered. It was East vs. West, the Lakers' "Showtime" vs. Celtic pride and, yes, black vs. white. By the end of their run as the gods of the hardwood -- Magic's time cut short when he contracted HIV in 1991, Bird's retirement the following year, largely the result of back injuries -- Michael Jordan was well on his way to establishing himself as arguably the greatest player in history. But make no mistake: The '80s, when Bird and Magic ruled, were the NBA's golden era. Perhaps more than any other sports rivals (with the possible exception of boxers Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier), Bird and Magic are intertwined in history, and that rivalry and that history (as well as the friendship, both unlikely and unavoidable, that developed between them) are at the heart of a fascinating new book, "When the Game Was Ours." Though Bird and Johnson (with Jackie MacMullan) are credited as the authors, it is clearly MacMullan's book, as all but the introduction (by Bird and Johnson) is written in the third person, with the former Boston Globe reporter and columnist masterfully weaving the recollections of the two protagonists with those of dozens of observers, including teammates and family members. The book is at its most powerful when it hews close to its premise: the evolution of perhaps sports' greatest rivalry, from its origins in 1979, when Bird's Indiana State Sycamores met Magic's Michigan State Spartans in the NCAA championship game (a game that is frequently credited with giving rise to the phenomenon known as "March Madness") to the deep bonds of friendship and mutual respect that developed between the NBA's top stars. Each player's extreme competitiveness is revealed early on, and it was precisely that competitiveness that forced us to wait more than two decades after their last NBA Finals duel (in 1987) to hear what they thought of each other. "I never let on how much [Johnson] dominated my thoughts during my playing days," Bird says on the book's first page. "I couldn't. But once we agreed to do this book, I knew it was finally time to let people in on my relationship with the person who motivated me like no other. . . . What I had with Magic went beyond brothers." For much of the book, Bird and Magic merely observe each other from afar, with borderline obsessiveness, their occasional encounters on and off the court marked by few words. (An anthropologist could have a field day studying the early interactions of these alpha males, who do everything short of marking their territory to assert their dominance.) The obsession was such that, when Bird's Celtics beat the Lakers to win his first NBA title in 1984, all Bird could say was: "I finally got him. I finally got Magic." Amazingly, their first real conversation (which took place in Bird's basement following a commercial shoot in 1985) doesn't come until Page 176, nearly two-thirds of the way into the book, and it becomes the critical plot development, as the rivalry took on the added dimension of friendship once the men realized the similarities in their backgrounds. Their bond eventually grew so deep that Bird compared learning of Johnson's HIV-positive diagnosis in 1991 to learning of his own father's suicide when Bird was 19. The Bird-Magic dynamic is so powerful that the book drags whenever MacMullan strays from it, as during a distillation of the Celtics-Lakers rivalry or the inevitable biographical examinations of each player. But MacMullan keeps those detours mercifully brief and soon returns to the action, which is not so much what occurred on the court (Magic's Lakers and Bird's Celtics played each other only twice a year, plus three times -- for a total of 19 games -- in the NBA Finals) as about what went on in the minds of these two titans. The game of basketball has never been better than when it was theirs. [email protected] Copyright 2009, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. APRIL 9, 1978 Lexington, Kentucky The errant shot came off the glass at a sharp angle, but Larry Bird, charting the flight of the ball, pulled down the rebound and advanced without hesitation, swiveling his head as he examined his options. Earvin Johnson had already begun to head down the court the moment the ball was in flight. He’d been playing with Bird for only six days on a team of college All-Stars in this international roundrobin competition, yet already Johnson had determined that Bird was the most resourceful rebounder they had. Bird filled the center lane, and Magic streaked down the right side, calling for the ball, but the forward looked away, as if he had pressing matters elsewhere. For one brief instant, Magic was disappointed. “I guess he’s not going to give it to me,” he murmured. And that’s when it came: a behind-the-back missile that landed directly on Magic’s right palm. It remained there just long enough for Johnson to disarm defender Andrei Lapatov with a crossover dribble, then sling it back over his shoulder with a no-look feed to Bird. Indiana State’s star barely aligned the seams before his touch pass was back to Magic, leaving no time for the overmatched Soviet player to react. As Johnson banked in the lay-up, the crowd at Rupp Arena in Lexington, Kentucky, roared with delight. Magic turned and charged toward Bird to offer him his signature high-five. Bird slapped the teenager’s hand, and the two jogged back down the floor, side by side, one skipping, clapping, and celebrating as he went, the other, head down, expressionless, as if nothing remarkable had occurred. The intertwined basketball journey of Earvin “Magic” Johnson and Larry “Joe” Bird had officially begun — as teammates. Johnson had never met Bird before the tournament. He was stunned at how well the forward passed the ball, and when Bird fed him the no-look pass, Magic told himself, “I’m not going to let this guy upstage me.” “It was an incredible three seconds of basketball,” Magic said. “It was boom, boom, boom! I’m thinking, ‘Man, I love playing with this guy!’ And believe me, the crowd loved it too.” Some thirty years after that collaborative transition basket, executed against the Soviet Union’s national team when Magic was just 18 years old and Bird only 21, both remember the play with startling clarity. “The defender was stumbling to keep up with us,” Bird recalled. “We were coming at him so fast that his head was going around and around, and he ended up in a circle. I was sort of laughing, because the poor kid didn’t have a clue.” He wasn’t the only one. No one thought to chronicle the footage of Bird and Magic’s wizardry in the open floor. There were no breathless descriptions of the artful passers in the morning papers. In 1978, though both had displayed a developing basketball pedigree, they were not widely recognized as elite players. At that juncture, neither had won an NBA championship, a league MVP, or, for that matter, an NCAA title. The irony of Bird and Magic commencing their storied relationship as teammates did not register because their parallel careers had not yet evolved into one of the compelling rivalries in basketball history. “They were certainly good,” noted Michael O’Koren, their tournament teammate, “but they weren’t Magic and Larry — not yet.” Instead, Johnson and Bird were second-stringers on an amateur basketball team participating in an international round-robin competition called the World Invitational Tournament, or WIT, attempting in vain to prove to the coach, Joe B. Hall, they were worthy of prime-time minutes. Although Bird and Magic occasionally shared knowing glances when the two of them outwitted the starters in practice, Bird revealed little of himself to Johnson. He was a young man of few words — until he went back home to French Lick, Indiana, and tracked down his brother, Mark Bird. “I’ve just seen the best player in college basketball,” Larry gushed. “It’s Magic Johnson.” ### The World Invitational Tournament was a whirlwind, made-for-television event that assembled a group of top college players and held three games in five days against the Soviets, Cuba, and Yugoslavia at rotating venues: the Omni in Atlanta, Carmichael Auditorium on the campus of North Carolina, and Rupp Arena in Lexington. Bird had just completed his junior season at Indiana State as a first-team All-America selection who would be drafted by the Boston Celtics within the next three months. Magic had just finished his first year at Michigan State, a third-team All-America pick who had dazzled the Big Ten with his array of no-look feeds, alley-oops, and backdoor bounce passes. Yet, on the World Invitational team, also known as the Converse Cup, Johnson and Bird were afterthoughts. The headliners were Joe B. Hall and his Kentucky Wildcats, who had beaten Duke 94– 88 the previous week to capture the NCAA championship. Coach Hall placed five of his guys on the WIT roster: swingman Jack “Goose” Givens, who had poured in 41 points in the title game against Duke; Rick Robey, their rugged big man; point guard Kyle Macy; lefty forward James Lee; and guard Jay Shidler. Givens, Macy, and Robey garnered most of the minutes in the tournament even though the second team, anchored by Johnson and Bird, dominated them in practice. Privately, both players fumed as they sat and watched inferior players gobble up their minutes. “There were the Kentucky players, and the rest of us were fillers,” Bird said. “Hall wanted to go around the country and show off his guys.” Bird and Magic spent a total of eight days together during the WIT. They engaged in no more than four or five conversations, even though they ate together, practiced together, and rode the bus together. While Magic hobnobbed with Arkansas star Sidney Moncrief, blasting his boom box and jiving to the beat of the Ohio Players, Bird remained largely to himself, surveying the Kentucky scenery out the bus window while Magic’s music — and personality — overtook the team. “Magic was nonstop chatter,” said Rutgers star James Bailey. “And Larry said zero. It was ‘Good morning,’ and don’t expect a lot more.” The World Invitational Tournament was the concoction of television executive Eddie Einhorn. While professional basketball in the 1970s produced dismal ratings, the colleges, provided the matchups had some national appeal, were proving to be a market with potential. Einhorn had already successfully televised exhibition games against Russians and felt that a competition with some international flavor would prove to be successful. Thus, the WIT was born. Einhorn enlisted the help of Brandeis athletic director Dick Rodis and Providence College basketball coach Dave Gavitt, prominent members of the Amateur Basketball Association of the United States (later renamed USA Basketball), to fill out the roster around the Kentucky players. “At that time, I really didn’t even know who Magic and Larry were,” Einhorn admitted. “I would venture to say most other people didn’t either.” Gavitt was painfully aware of the abilities of Michigan State’s imposing point guard. Just weeks earlier, Magic and his Spartans had steamrolled Gavitt’s Providence Friars in the opening round of the 1978 NCAA Mideast Regional in Indianapolis. Magic scored 14 points and dished out 7 assists, but his ability to push tempo and provide his teammates with high-percentage shots (Michigan State hit 61 percent of its field goals) was what caught Gavitt’s eye. Johnson saw the game differently than the other players, almost as if he were watching the action unfold in slow motion. Bird’s Indiana State team posted a 23–9 mark that spring but was left out of the NCAA field, relegated instead to the less prestigious NIT tournament. Gavitt had never seen him play and knew little about him. Since Indiana State was not being featured on network television, many basketball fans assumed Bird was African American. Boston Globe writer Bob Ryan hadn’t seen Larry yet either, but was already well versed in Bird lore. Ryan was in Indianapolis to cover Providence but informed Gavitt he also was driving to Terre Haute to check out the Sycamores and this mysterious hidden gem, whom Celtics scouts assured him was a legitimate NBA prospect. Ryan embarked on his pilgrimage with Providence Journal sportswriters Mike Madden and Jayson Stark, who were openly skeptical of Bird’s credentials. He was playing at a small school in a small conference, which, they surmised, accounted for his prolific offensive numbers. The writers barely had time to remove their jackets before the right-handed Bird snared a rebound and started up the left side of the floor dribbling left-handed. Just shy of midcourt, he fired an underhand rocket pass to his guard off the dribble for a lay-up. “From that moment on, I was hooked,” said Ryan. Indiana State went on to win by a point on a jumper by Bird. Ryan was so animated talking about his performance on the way back to Indianapolis, he was driving 75 miles per hour when the state police pulled him over. “Sorry,” Ryan told the trooper. “I’m just excited because I’m coming back from the ISU game.” “Oh, yeah?” said the cop, ripping up the ticket. “Who won?” The next morning the scribes were back court-side in Indianapolis to witness another legend in the making: a 6-foot- 8 (and growing) floor general who dominated play without a consistent jump shot. Magic was a whirling dervish of energy and enthusiasm. Even though he was just a freshman, he barked orders to his older teammates and after every successful play slapped hands, whooped, and celebrated with his teammates. The Friars players took offense at his histrionics, particularly in light of the lopsided score (77–63). “Some people thought he was a hot dog,” Gavitt said. “I never did. He played like he loved the game. There was a lot of high-fives and fist-pumping, which you didn’t see a whole lot of back then. “I suppose it was annoying if you were on the other team. I asked his coach, Jud Heathcote, about it, and he said, ‘Dave, he’s like that every day in practice. Not some days — every day.’” After Gavitt met with the press and gave proper credit to Michigan State and their remarkable blossoming star, he bumped into Bob Ryan in the hallway. “So, how did your ‘hidden gem’ do in Terre Haute?” he asked. “Dave,” Ryan answered, “I just saw one of the game’s next great players.” When it came time to flush out the World Invitational team roster, Gavitt recalled Ryan’s endorsement and added both Magic and Bird to his list. Bird was ecstatic about being chosen, until he learned the identity of the coach. Joe B. Hall recruited Bird out of Springs Valley High School in French Lick, Indiana, but after watching him, Hall determined that Bird was “too slow” to play Division 1 basketball. A wounded Bird vowed to prove him wrong someday and was disappointed that he never had the opportunity to play against Kentucky in college. “I wanted a crack at that guy,” Bird said. The odds of that happening were slim. Kentucky was one of the more prestigious programs in the country. Their conference, the Southeastern, was known primarily as a football hotbed, with heavyweights Alabama, Auburn, Florida, and Georgia among its members. The Wildcats, under the tutelage of Adolph Rupp, had established themselves as one of the top basketball powers in the country in the late 1940s, winning four NCAA championships in ten years. Indiana State simply didn’t measure up, and neither did Michigan State — at least not until students named Earvin and Larry arrived on their respective campuses and instantly altered the basketball landscape. Read more