This Day in Black Sports History: February 22, 2007

This day in black sports history marks the fourth anniversary of the sudden and tragic passing of a man Larry Bird called “best I ever played with” and whom Earvin 'Magic’ Johnson lauded as “the best backcourt defender of all-time.”

These poignant words represent a mere microcosm of how respected Dennis Wayne Johnson was, and still is, throughout the National Basketball Association.

Born the eighth of sixteen children on Sept. 18, 1954 in Compton, Johnson, who lacked the size and talent to compete with his peers in high school, excelled on the street basketball circuit while working several odd jobs upon his graduation.

Johnson’s defensive skills and “rocket launcher legs”, which enabled him to snare rebounds against taller competition, garnered notice from the head coach at Los Angeles Harbor College (LAHC), who encouraged Johnson to enroll at the public community college.

Johnson promptly quit his jobs and matriculated at LAHC, where he developed into a promising young guard, averaging 18.3 points and 12.0 rebounds per game as he led the team to a junior college state title.

At the end of his career at LAHC, Johnson accepted a scholarship offer to play at Pepperdine University, developing a reputation for tough defense and averaging 15.7 points, 5.8 rebounds and 3.3 assists per game in his only year in college.

Despite disciplinary issues at LAHC, where he got kicked off the team three times in two years, and with only one year of college basketball under his belt, Johnson was selected by the Seattle SuperSonics with the 29th overall pick in the 1976 NBA Draft.

After one season as a back-up shooting guard, Hall of Fame head coach Lenny Wilkens inserted Johnson into the starting rotation to play alongside Gus Williams, and the duo became a major part of the reason the SuperSonics would play in two consecutive NBA Finals against the Washington Bullets.

The Sonics wound up on the short end of the stick of a seven-game thriller in 1978, in which Johnson set the record for most blocks in Finals history for a guard (7).

However, redemption would come the following season as Seattle defeated the Bullets in five games. Johnson was named the NBA Finals Most Valuable Player, averaging 22.6 points, six rebounds and six assists per game.

During his four-year stint with the Sonics, Johnson established himself as one of the best guards in the league, earning two of his five All-Star selections and two All-Defensive First Team honors.

Before the 1980-81 season, Johnson was traded to the Phoenix Suns, where he became a more versatile scorer while remaining a backcourt defensive stalwart.

In his three years as a Sun, Johnson averaged 17.5 points, 4.7 rebounds and 4.4 assists, while leading Phoenix to the Western Conference Semifinals in two consecutive seasons as the team’s main scorer. This span would also see Johnson play in two more All-Star Games while being voted on to three consecutive All-Defensive First Teams.

Johnson’s next seven seasons were spent with the Boston Celtics, which he described as “a dream come true”.

As a playmaking point guard this time, Johnson was the engineer of a Celtics team that featured Hall of Famers Larry Bird, Kevin McHale and Robert Parish, and won two NBA Championships in three seasons (1984, 1986).

At the time of his retirement in 1990, Johnson played in 1,100 of a possible 1,148 games during his 14-year NBA career, and was only the 11th player in league history to amass more than 15,000 points and 5,000 assists.

On December 13, 1991, the Celtics franchise retired Johnson’s No. 3 jersey at the old Boston Garden.

However, Johnson would not live to receive the ultimate honor of being inducted into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame, suffering a fatal heart attack on February 22, 2007. Johnson’s death was met with shock throughout the entire league.

Three years later though, Johnson would be posthumously elected into the Hall of Fame.

Among others, current Celtics President of Basketball Operations Danny Ainge called him one of "the most underrated players of all time [...] and one of the greatest Celtics acquisitions", and one-time rival Bill Laimbeer called him "a great player on a great ballclub".

Click here to read the original article at Examiner.com.

This Day in Black Sports History: February 15, 2011

When it comes to the game of basketball, William Felton Russell is arguably the greatest winner in the sport’s history.

Prior to the start of his professional career, Russell led the University of San Francisco (USF) men’s basketball team to two consecutive NCAA Championships (1955, 1956) and won a gold medal at the 1956 Summer Olympics as captain of the United States National Team.

After the Boston Celtics acquired him in a draft-day trade with the St. Louis Hawks, Russell became the centerpiece of a team that won 11 NBA Championships in thirteen seasons, including an unprecedented eight consecutive titles between 1959 and 1966.

During this dominating, dynastic run, Russell also served a three-season stint as player-coach for the Celtics, becoming first African-American head coach in NBA history.

Russell retired from the game in 1969 with career averages of 15.1 points and 22.5 rebounds per game, as well as five Most Valuable Player Awards and 12 All-Star appearances to his credit.

But despite his myriad of accomplishments, Russell’s life was marked by an uphill battle against racism, beginning in his childhood when he was forced to witness his parents become such victims of bigotry and racial abuse that they had to move into housing projects for an escape.

In his memoir, Go Up for Glory, Russell poignantly recalled his feelings on the racism and segregation that pervaded his existence, even as a standout amateur basketball player at USF and a superstar for the Celtics.

It stood out, a wall which understanding cannot penetrate. You are a Negro. You are less. It covered every area. A living, smarting, hurting, smelling, greasy substance which covered you. A morass to fight from.

As a consequence, Russell became a passionate and unyielding crusader for civil rights, which also resulted in a bitter relationship with the city of Boston due to his programmed hypersensitivity to racial prejudice in all its forms.

Russell’s bad rapport with fans and journalists, stemming from his refusal to respond to acclaim or friendship, caused him to be characterized as egotistical, hypocritical and paranoid.

In addition, seeing himself as a victim of the media, Russell was neither present for the retirement of his Number 6 jersey at the Boston Garden in 1972 nor his induction into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 1975.

However, with the re-retirement of Russell’s jersey at the TD Garden in 1995 and the receipt of a ‘We Are Boston’ Leadership Award in 2008, ceremonies which Russell did attend, a small measure of reconciliation was achieved, but, to some extent, the wounds from a long history of racial strife remained fresh.

Therefore, it was fitting that Barack Obama, the first African-American president in United States history, endorsed an idea that many view as a way for Boston to put a difficult past, with one of its greatest sports heroes, completely behind them.

Obama’s remarks came during a ceremony in which Russell was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian award in the country, for his legacy as a civil rights activist.

Russell is the seventh African-American sports figure, and first basketball player, to receive the award. The Monroe, La. native was among 14 recipients to be honored, including George H.W. Bush, poet Maya Angelou, investor Warren Buffet and Major League Baseball Hall of Famer Stan Musial.

Below is the official White House transcript of Obama's remarks about Russell:

When Bill Russell was in junior high, he was cut from his basketball team. (Laughter.) He got better after that. (Laughter.) He led the University of San Francisco to two championships. In 13 seasons with the Boston Celtics, he won 11 championships -- a record unmatched in any sport. Won two while also serving as the team’s coach. And so happens, he also was the first African American ever to hold such a position as a coach in a Major League sports team of any sort. More than any athlete of his era, Bill Russell came to define the word "winner."

And yet, whenever someone looks up at all 6 feet 9 inches of Bill Russell -- I just did -- (laughter) -- I always feel small next to him -- and asks, "Are you a basketball player?" -- surprisingly, he gets this more than you think, this question -- (laughter) -- he says, "No." He says, "That’s what I do, that’s not what I am. I'm not a basketball player. I am a man who plays basketball."

Bill Russell, the man, is someone who stood up for the rights and dignity of all men. He marched with King; he stood by Ali. When a restaurant refused to serve the black Celtics, he refused to play in the scheduled game. He endured insults and vandalism, but he kept on focusing on making the teammates who he loved better players, and made possible the success of so many who would follow. And I hope that one day, in the streets of Boston, children will look up at a statue built not only to Bill Russell the player, but Bill Russell the man.

Click here to read the original article at Examiner.com.

This Day in Black Sports History: February 7, 1991

In an era dominated by big men such as Bill Russell, Wilt Chamberlain and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, a 6’1” point guard from New York, proved there would always be room in the National Basketball Association for creative, intelligent and quick small men.

Born and raised in the South Bronx’s Patterson housing projects, one of America’s most ravaged neighborhoods, Nathaniel Archibald became a playground legend, while resisting the temptations of the street that destroyed the aspirations, dreams and lives of many of his peers.

Instead, Archibald, nicknamed "Big Tiny" after his father, turned to basketball when his father left the family’s two-bedroom apartment, leaving “Tiny,” the oldest of seven children, as the head of the household at the age of 14.

As a sophomore at Dewitt Clinton High School, Archibald was cut from the varsity squad and briefly entertained thoughts of dropping out of school altogether.

But Floyd Lane, a community sports director and mentor to Archibald, convinced the Dewitt Clinton head coach to take another look at the small, painfully shy teenager who lacked confidence on the court.

After his reinstatement, Archibald blossomed into a star, becoming team captain and earning an All-City selection in 1966.

However, a major college scholarship would not be in the offing due to his poor grades. So, for the first time in his life, Archibald left New York to attend Arizona Western Community College, in the hopes of improving his chances of playing major college basketball.

Only one year later, Archibald accepted a scholarship to the University of Texas at El Paso (UTEP), where he averaged 20.0 points per game over three seasons.

Archibald was selected in the second round of the 1970 Draft by the Cincinnati Royals and, after taking a couple of seasons to establish himself as a competent floor leader, “Tiny” proved himself to be one of the best second-round picks in NBA history.

Although Archibald earned All-NBA Second Team honors in his second season, which saw him average 28.2 points per game, a snub for the Eastern Conference All-Star Team fueled Archibald’s fire leading into the 1972-73 season.

During that year, Archibald led the league in scoring and assists, becoming the only player in NBA history to accomplish the feat. His scoring average of 34.0 points per game broke the NBA record for a guard, and his 910 assist total (11.4 assists per game), also a record at the time, broke a mark held by Guy Rodgers since 1967.

Not surprisingly, Archibald was named to his first of six Eastern Conference All-Star Teams, his first of three All-NBA First Teams and won the Sporting News Most Valuable Player Award.

Following brilliant campaigns in two out of his next three seasons, averaging 26.5 ppg and 6.8 apg in 1974-75 and 24.8 ppg and 7.9 apg in 1975-76 (an Achilles' tendon injury cut short his season in 1973-74), Archibald was traded to the New York Nets, which marked the beginning of three of the most tumultuous years of his career.

A severe foot injury would limit “Tiny” to only 34 games in the 1976-77 season, and a ruptured Achilles' tendon would completely wipe out Archibald’s 1977-78 season after he was traded from the Nets to the Buffalo Braves.

Prior to the 1978-79 campaign, Archibald was traded to the Boston Celtics, where showed up 20 pounds overweight, his play left much to be desired and he became a locker room malcontent.

Yet, while rumors of his demise continued to be greatly exaggerated, Archibald remained committed to returning to the South Bronx each summer to help and counsel troubled youngsters, which also became an unlikely source of inspiration toward resurrecting his career.

"Here I was," Archibald recalled, "coming off the most frustrating year of my career, and it was the kids who were counseling me. They kept saying, 'Don't worry, Tiny. Don't get down. You can do it. The Celtics need you.' I'll never forget them for that."

With the arrival of Larry Bird for the 1979-80 season, Archibald made the seamless transition from a scoring point guard into a playmaking floor general.

From 1980-1982, Archibald ranked among the league leaders in assists and helped guide the Celtics to the NBA’s best record for three consecutive years.

Along the way, Archibald garnered three additional All-Star selections, captured the All-Star Game MVP Award in 1981 and won the first and only NBA Championship of his career to culminate the 1980-81 season.

Archibald’s numbers declined in the 1982-83 season, averaging only 27.4 minutes and 6.2 assists per game. Subsequently, Archibald signed with the Milwaukee Bucks as a free agent and retired the next year after playing only 46 games for the team.

“Tiny” left the game as a giant, finishing with career averages of 18.8 ppg, 7.4 apg and 2.3 rpg.

On February 7, 1991, Archibald’s contributions were rewarded when he was elected to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame.

And although his NBA assist totals became frozen in time, Archibald would continue dishing out assists off the court upon his retirement.

After his brief stint with the Bucks, Archibald returned to New York City to run basketball schools for underprivileged kids and to work as athletic director at the Harlem Armory homeless shelter until it closed in 1991.

Archibald was honored for his work with the city's youth by former New York City Mayor David Dinkins in 1993.

Click here to read the original article at Examiner.com.

Sporadic Era-tic: The Death of the Superfriends

Blowing in the Wind, originally uploaded by awonderfulsplash.

Worry not, dear friends! The Superfriends meme is not dead. It just falls to this lonely spore to wind the clock of change and paradigm. Someone has to declare something dead after all this talk of viral this video and viral that, hashtag trending moments in the blistering web-spun online sun. Our eyes can only be hosts to these ghosts of existence for so long.

So, existence versus non-existence tonight. I declare death to the Superfriends not because they do not exist and/or will not soon come to proliferate. I only offer that such a means to overcoming the mean streets of mediocrity must at some point come to be judged as either viable or f(l)ailing. I recognize it's early in the NBA season, but a verdict must be passed such that all other verdicts may be measured, consciously or collective-subconsciously, upon its wavily inconsistent metaphorical shores.

Sorry, a little rusty here. I offer, in return for your patience and persistence and co-pre-cognizance with me, an alternative.

LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh: These are the new figureheads of the Superfriends mold. Amar'e, CP3, 'Melo: These are the leaders of the new, if new be someday told. Right now, the verdict is out on the ledge like hot pie charts waiting for sticky fingered nerds to reach out and grasp at the pretense of truth. And who's the early boy playing Worms: Battle Islands? I'll give you a hint: it's not the eight-and-six Heat. Rather, I suggest you take a look at the twelve-and-eleven Spurs.

That's right, the wily vets, the geriatric section, divorcee's row, the leaders of the old, the Spurs currently hold the best win percentage in the league. How are they doing it? Not with an injection of new legs, because Tiago Splitter ain't doing diddly past six points and three pulls, and DaJuan Blair is the opposite of new legs. They're doing it with the same old system based around Tim Duncan and trickling down to the aforementioned soon-to-be divorcee Tony Parker, the finally healthy Manu Ginobli, and the revitalized Richard Jefferson.

So the Spurs are twelve-and-one. What's new, Nagamatsu? Why write about the difference in paradigms now? Because LeBron James affords us a unique perspective on the efficacy of Superfriends vs. San Antonio as models for building successful basketball teams. In Cleveland, King James was privy to a build similar to that of the Spurs, as was much bruited about when the two teams faced in the finals of '07. Under the careful build of Popovich acolytes Danny Ferry and Mike Brown, LeBron James saw a solid string of successful seasons. Now, having left the patronage of such system, he enters into something more akin to the 80's Laker Showtime teams under Pat Riley's baleful, pomaded watch.

Obviously, the Showtime teams weren't quite a Superfriends model. Perhaps I'm just saying that because they were successful and such a model would ruin my paradigm study. Still, those squads lacked the mercenary feel of such teams as the post-championship Rockets featuring Olajuwon, Drexler, and Barkley and/or Pippen, as I mentioned in my last epocrypha. What other unsuccessful Superfriends squads can we point to? Barkley's 76ers with Dr. J and Moses Malone, as well as Pippen's stint with the Jail Blazers both fit the bill. Dallas' multiple attempts at paving their way to super teams with the Mark Cuban's Benjamins failed, as did the '04 Lakers. (And I'm sure I'm forgetting a whole host of 'em)

Batmanuel, Captain Liberty, The Tick and Arthur, originally uploaded by Walkabout Wolf.

Which brings us to the anomalies, the outliers as Malcolm Gladwell would put it. Sure, the '04 Lakers failed with Gary Payton and Karl Malone in tow, but realistically they should have won. Statistically, they should have won. Only Malone's injury kept them from dominating that series. And then Shaq left, and who knows. But what about the current, contemporary version of the Lakers? Isn't that a four-headed beast with Kobe, Pau, Lamar, and Artest? In short, yes. This current iteration is what one might term a "Superfriends" squad. However, what separates them is the system. Phil Jackson's "trust your players to fall or fly when they most need your trust" system is one of a kind. As a Lakers fan, I am petrified at the thought of trying to get that seventh in my watching career without the Zen Master. Here's the other thing: Until recently, this system was not one that played nice with the Superfriends mold. In the first three-peat, the team swallowed stars whole and left them barely shells of role players. Glen Rice, Mitch Richmond, Isaiah Rider. All three were eaten up and spit out by the '00-'02 Lakers.

The other outlier? The '08 Boston Celtics. There's a team that fit the Superfriends mold to a T. What sets them apart is Ubuntu. They had an identity from the start. Furthermore, the team's looking more and more like a Spurs team built around Rondo. But that's a side note. San Antonio is not the only team prospering under the Popovich Spurs paradigm. The 10-2 New Orleans Hornets (3rd highest win percentage in the league right now) are newly adapting themselves to the model under Popovich pupil Monty Williams. Similarly, the 10-4 Oklahoma City Thunder have followed Sam Presti in making Durant their Duncan and building down from there.

Pencil Vs Camera - 19, originally uploaded by Ben Heine.

What tic should you take away from all this? What should you allow to syphon blood from your Superfriend-like excessive thoughts? Let's just say the Lakers have Zen, the Celts have Ubuntu, what do the Heat have?