Blogger just ate my obit. Laker fans, you're just amateurs at Celtic-hatred. I'm from Philly. I was one of the rowdies who threw lit cigars at Red's head in 1967.
Then God laughed and I covered the '80a Celtics. Auerbach was the best journalism teachers ever.
Once I asked a question with the hackneyed "some people say."
Auerbach: "That's bull****! You mean what you say, but you don't have the guts to say so."
Busted. And every time I hear that question format, I agree with Red.
Another lesson: The Celts win Game 4 of the NBA Finals. In LAX, they're waiting for the same red-eye as some weekly writer. It's late, and a concourse and a half away, Cedric Maxwell (I think) finds an open cafeteria.
I snag the last dessert, a lime Jello. The man behind me in line, Auerbach, swipes it off my tray and gives it to the man behind him, Larry Bird.
"Larry ought to get this," Auerbach said, "because he was a good boy tonight."
Bird had only had a 20-20. I let him the Jello. Then Kevin McHale came over and said, "Red will only respect you if you fight for the Jello."
Try being more hopelessly ****ed then that. Try standing in Red Auerbach's way. He beat segregarton, Michael Gee couldn't have been much of a contest,
Poor Mendy Rudolph probably thought eternity would be a peaceful place. Not anymore.