This commentary is by Alan Beebe, a resident of Colchester.
Like many, I was saddened to learn of the recent passing of basketball icon Bill Russell of the Boston Celtics. As a Celtics fan during their heyday in the 1960s, I well remember his exploits on the court, especially his titanic battles with the great Wilt Chamberlain.
Russell was highly intelligent, intensely competitive (trigger alert: he was known to vomit before critical games), and an inspiring leader who stressed team play rather than individual glory. He was proud but not prideful, and never flashy. Although he was very private and aloof at times, among athletes he is said to have been as influential as Jackie Robinson in the struggle for civil rights.
On a Saturday night in the fall of 1968, Russell and the Celtics played the Philadelphia 76ers in an NBA preseason game. The game wasn’t played in Boston or Philadelphia, or any other large city for that matter. It was held at the Patrick Gym in Burlington.
At the time, I was in high school in Port Henry, New York. My school offered bus transportation to the game, and like several others I jumped at the opportunity to attend. It would be the first time that any of us had attended a professional sporting event.
The two teams on the floor were from the top tier of the NBA. The Celtics were the reigning NBA champs while the 76ers had won the NBA championship in the prior year. Wilt Chamberlain played center on that team; alas, the 76ers had traded him away less than three months before. Oh, to have seen Wilt play that night!
But even without Chamberlain, there were 10 future Basketball Hall of Fame members on hand, Russell among them. Russell performed double duty for the Celtics — in addition to playing center, he was their coach. He was the first Black head coach of a major U.S. pro sports team, and is one of only a small handful to be inducted to the Hall of Fame twice — as a player and as a coach.
The Celtics lost the game that night. I don’t remember the final score; it didn’t matter. (After all, it was only a preseason game.) Right after the final buzzer, several of us ran onto the floor for a chance to meet Russell, if only briefly. (Security in those days was virtually nonexistent.)
We approached him with our right arms outstretched, wanting to shake his hand. Truth be known, he rebuffed our overtures, but I never blamed him for that. I’m sure he wanted to make a quick exit, knowing that he had a long night of travel ahead.
In the months to follow, after a mediocre regular season beset by injuries, the Celtics finished in fourth place in their division. But somehow they prevailed in the postseason and went on to win the NBA championship, defeating the LA Lakers with Wilt Chamberlain. Russell announced his retirement shortly after the end of the season, having led the Celtics to 11 NBA titles, the last two as player-coach, in 13 years. It’s a feat that never will be repeated.
Russell’s story didn’t end there. Over four decades later, he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, our highest civilian honor, for his achievements in sport and for his efforts in promoting civil rights.
In this era of megadollar player contracts and endorsement deals, team jets, private practice facilities, and large arenas with luxury suites and jumbotrons, it is inconceivable that two elite NBA teams would hold a preseason game in a small city like Burlington at a venue like the Patrick Gym. It’s equally unlikely that any game would feature 10 future Hall-of-Famers (other than possibly an All-Star game), one of whom would go on to receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
But on an early October night over half a century ago, it happened. I’ll never forget it.