Hambone. Really, has there been a better sports nickname than the one Art “Hambone” Williams somehow acquired in his youth? It sounds inspired. It really isn’t. It was one of those fortuitous accidents.

“My first day of junior high (Memorial), somebody hollered “Hambone!” and I turned around,” said Williams, now 70, and living in National City. “I’ve been Hambone ever since.”

On that day, a local basketball legend was born. Williams went on to star at San Diego High — 1959 Southern California Player of the Year — and then at City College and Cal Poly Pomona. But his story was just beginning when the guard injured his hand and left Cal Poly behind.

“I had to play with one hand,” he said. “I dropped out of school. I was 23, married, and had a child. I went to work with General Dynamics in Pomona.”


So, basketball was out of the picture, as it had been when he first arrived in San Diego out of Bonham, Texas, as a 13-year-old. Little did he or any of us know that, years later history would be made.

In 1967, a new NBA franchise, the San Diego Rockets, was forming. Coach Jack McMahon was holding tryouts and owner Bob Breitbard asked McMahon to give a look to a 28-year-old point guard named Arthur “Hambone” Williams.

McMahon, an East Coast guy, balked, but Breitbard won out, and it became apparent right away the aging rookie could still play the game. He made the team, playing in 79 games and finishing sixth in the NBA in assists.

Just imagine, a 28-year-old who hadn’t played basketball in five years, not only making an NBA roster, but playing 1,739 minutes his first season. It was so close to being impossible, it had to be possible.


Williams’ big break came before the 1970 season, when he was traded to his dream team, the Boston Celtics, in exchange for Larry Siegfried, a year before the Rockets moved to Houston. Hambone played in Boston until the end of the 1974-75 season, getting a ring when the Celtics won the 1973-74 NBA championship.

Since then, not all has been great in the life of Hambone Williams. He returned to San Diego for a brief stint with the American Basketball Association’s Conquistadors, but there have been three marriages, a few odd jobs and not a whole lot of great things in his life since basketball.

“The Conquistadors gave me the shaft,” he said. “That was the end of my career. I bought a home after we won the title in Boston, and when I got back here my wife divorced me in two weeks. I’ve had some hard times since then, some tough personal problems I’d rather not get into. But I’m not a sickly person. I have arthritis, that’s it. I like to cook.

“When I turned 45, I started taking my retirement from the NBA. It’s enough. I get Social Security. I haven’t had to work. I did some odd things, here and there, cutting trees. I had a little bit of savings. I’m doing OK. I did what I had to do. I’ve kept my head up. A lot of people go off the deep end, but I had a good raising in Texas. I had six sisters and four brothers. My mom was supermom. Nobody messed with her.”


Williams, recently honored by the San Diego Jocks about a month ago — how he’s not in the Breitbard Hall of Fame remains a mystery — walks with a cane now, but he gets around.

He’s fine. He has a 15-year-old son, Tyree, he’s proud of. He refused a ride and walked home after we met in National City. He didn’t want lunch, just coffee. Pride remains a major part of one of the top basketball players this area has produced.

And to think it almost didn’t happen. When Williams arrived at San Diego High, he’d never played organized basketball, and he didn’t start then.

“I’d play some pickup ball in the Memorial gym, played all the time,” he said. “But I didn’t play organized ball until the 11th grade at San Diego. My gym teacher was Birt Slater (who later gained notice for his outstanding football program at Kearny High). He told me I should go play basketball for the team.


“I found myself on the same team with Ezell Singleton (still the best prep quarterback this area has had), Cleveland Jones, all those guys. I still didn’t start right away, until they put me in against Hoover. I gave ’em hell that day. I started after that.”

The highlight for Hambone was playing in Boston, which he loved, and the Celtics were at the top then.

“It was hard, the NBA,” he said. “In a way, I’m still recuperating from the NBA. I watch football now. Basketball has gotten so terrible; so many things are done wrong. But I had a great time. I could outrun John Havlicek. I was the fastest guy on the Celtics, and he was fast. We had great respect for every player. There was pride. The difference between the Celtics and the Rockets was night and day.

“I sit there now and think I could be a millionaire. I look at players acting the fool. I don’t think anybody in sports should be married before they get out. There are too many temptations. It’s not a good job, man, being married and playing sports. They don’t know how to handle it.”


This is a man who went up against my all-time favorite player, Oscar Robertson.

“The Big O was something else,” Williams says. “I actually stole the ball from him once. Nobody took the ball away from Oscar. Nobody made the game look easier.”

But, my, at 6-foot-2, could Hambone handle and pass the basketball.

“Nobody taught me how to pass; I just did it,” he said. “I had 22 assists one night. I made the fast break go in Boston. I was as good a passer as anyone, and I could go from fast to faster. It was easy for me.


“I’ve had a good life. Not many people can work seven years and be retired 25.”

There’s only been one Hambone around here. My guess is there won’t be another. Nor should there be.