Written by: Keith Henderson
When I close my eyes, I can still see it.
The Sony Trinitron TV with the antenna positioned just right, is tuned in, on this night, to Game 4 of the 1987 NBA Finals.
It’s down to the last few seconds of the game, and though I’m watching in my household of four, I’m absolutely certain that I’m among the millions of Lakers fans, Celtics fans, and basketball fans in general, who are either on the edge of their seats or on their feet.
With this final, crucial possession in favor of the Lakers, who else should have the ball in his hands, but Earvin “Magic” Johnson? Had I actually been asked this, I surely would’ve thought it was a trick question.
Be honest, Celtics fan. You saw this coming, didn’t you? It was what you feared most, because you knew what determination looked like. You saw killer instinct on that very same parquet floor, every night for eight seasons (up to that point), wearing a green and white number 33 jersey.
By the time Magic floated that “junior junior skyhook” over those fingertips of Parish and McHale (which, in the moment, seemed to stretch far beyond normal human reach, like figures in an Ernie Barnes painting), your heart had to be in your throat, because you already knew that ‘mistake #1’ had been made: he was allowed to get the ball, with enough time on the clock to make a play. And now, on top of that, he makes a hesitation dribble, which gives him the sliver of daylight that he needs. Uh oh… ‘mistake #2’.
We know how it turned out; both the game and the series. And, I know it’s painful to relive it. Of course you hated Magic. Of course you hated the Lakers. Not just at that moment, but for as long as the rivalry continued between Magic, Bird, and their respective teams. Magic was ‘the face’ of the Lakers, much like Bird was for the C’s, so you could truly say that, to the core, the Lakers were “his team.” For that reason, it was easy for Boston fans to focus their collective ire and green-tinted venom on Johnson whenever the two rivals squared off.
Next: From Hatred Grows Respect
But, even if your allegiance to the Celtics, and your aversion to anything even remotely purple and gold, prevented you from feeling anything but hatred, back then, love and appreciation of the game of basketball would have to have allowed a healthy respect to creep in, over time.
I can admit that, as a kid, I hated Bird. Not in the real sense of the word, though. He was just so damned good, and had tortured my Lakers so often, that I didn’t know how else to feel. However, watching Larry Bird more than hold his own against guys like Dominique Wilkins and Chuck Person really solidified my respect for him. I could be completely neutral and objective, and just be a fan, in those matchups.
I understand the concept of “Celtic Pride.” Really, I do. True Celtic Pride, I would think, comes from a feeling that every win was earned by beating the best; by taking the opponent’s best shot and coming out on top. Losing to a lesser opponent was unacceptable. Losing to a worthy opponent was only slightly less painful. Larry Bird was a warrior. He epitomized Celtic Pride. If a guy stepped on the floor unprepared to face him, that guy was finished before the opening tip, whether he knew it or not.
In Magic Johnson, Larry had found his equal. Magic had the same fire burning within him. He took losses personally. There was an accountability with him that is largely absent in today’s athlete. I’m not just talking about saying the right thing when facing the media, either. I’m talking about true leadership; a real sense that “I will not let us lose” actually carries some weight, and is not merely an idle threat or empty promise.
Do you remember that moment, during Larry Bird’s retirement ceremony, when Magic tore open his Lakers warmup jacket to reveal a Boston Celtics t-shirt? Under normal circumstances, fans of both teams would’ve been outraged – Lakers fans would cry, “Magic, how could you?!,” while Celtics fans would yell, “How dare he…?!” But, Magic had a way of disarming the most staunch detractors. Although there was an obvious humor in that gesture, it was preceded by an even more obvious respect. The kind that comes from knowing that the guy in the other uniform is just as willing to bleed for that trophy as you are.
Next: Doing It For The Glory
You see, this isn’t simply about stats, or in-game highlights. Greatness, in sports, is usually characterized by those intangibles that carry as much weight as anything that shows up in a boxscore. Passion. Focus. Will to win. Work ethic. Vision. Magic Johnson had all of these, in abundance, to complement his extraordinary physical talents. Sure, many other guys ran faster and jumped higher, but basketball isn’t track and field. There are a lot of those guys who never won it all, at the highest level.
As a longtime Lakers fan, I’m much like you Celtics fan; just as passionate and equally fanatic. By nature of the rivalry, if you’re old enough, you had the opportunity to see Magic at work. Maybe even more often than you would’ve liked. But that gives you perspective. And, if you’re perfectly honest with yourself, then we’d have to agree on one thing. That is, that Magic Johnson is the all-time greatest Laker; a game-changer who revolutionized the point guard position with his unique combination of height and ballhandling ability.
There were other stellar players throughout the history of that great franchise, but think about it… Magic was that rare transcendent figure. Across generational lines, and even international lines, the majority of people would recognize Johnson on sight, far easier than they would Baylor, West, or Goodrich. And for, perhaps, the last bona fide ‘pre-youtube’ Lakers star, that says a great deal.
The best command respect; from their own teammates, from opponents, and from the fans. What can you say about a man who brought five titles to L.A., routinely beating strong competition, in an era where free agency and expansion hadn’t yet watered down the league? Ultimately, the true testament comes from having seen Magic play. I think we both can check that off of our ‘bucket list’ (again, assuming that you were around in the ’80s).
Now, I don’t expect you to rush off and put on a Lakers t-shirt, but I’ll leave you with this, in case you still have doubts. Stroll past the front of the Staples Center, which has now stood for over ten years, and you’ll find one statue currently erected to honor a Lakers player. That player? Magic Johnson. Need more? Here’s a quote: “Magic is head and shoulders above everybody else. I’ve never seen anybody as good as him.” Wondering who delivered that quote?
Larry Bird.
Do I really need to say much more?