Post by rlee » Mon Dec 03, 2007 12:05 pm

Hoop legends met the real Deadheads

Fred Contrada

MassLive.com

Springfield Republican





When legends meet, it's the stuff of epics, or at least of really good stories, and so with the vibes of the recent Grateful Dead symposium at the University of Massachusetts still lingering in the air, we turn to Bill Walton.



There was a time when you could make a case for Walton being the greatest basketball player alive. During his salad days at UCLA, his team won two national championships and a mind-bending 88 games in a row. He was drafted by the Portland Trailblazers in 1974 and went on to win an NBA championship there.



Although he was 7 ferocious feet of talent and athleticism, there was always something about Walton that made him the un-jock.



Maybe it was the big red beard or his tendency to speak his mind, no matter the subject. Or maybe it was the tie-dye shirts.



Walton was in full tie-dye when he walked gingerly into student ballroom at UMass in Amherst a few weeks ago. The beard is gone, his hair is gray and his knees are a little gimpy from all those years of pounding the hardwood.



Even if he wasn't such a tall drink of water, his appearance would have been a show-stopper because, in addition to being a pro basketball Hall of Famer, Bill Walton is perhaps the world's biggest Deadhead.



Walton immediately took over the room. He gave UMass its props, calling distinguished alumnus Julius "Dr. J." Erving the most exciting player he ever faced.



Walton mentioned some other people who have been major influences in his life. The list included the late Grateful Dead frontman Jerry Garcia and Boston Celtics legend Larry Bird. Then he told the following story, which I will recount to the best of my ability.



Walton, who had been hobbled for a few years by injury, got traded to the Celtics in 1985, a move that he said saved not only his basketball career but his life. He found himself on one of the greatest teams ever assembled, a group that included future Hall of Famers Bird, Kevin McHale and Robert Parish.



Walton was virtually part of the band's extended family by then. (He claims to have attended an astonishing 600 Grateful Dead concerts).



The Dead was scheduled to play at the Worcester Centrum and some of the crew were hanging around Boston Garden watching him practice. Bird and McHale sized up the situation and came over to ask who all these guys with the long hair and tie-dye shirts were. Walton explained that the Grateful Dead was in town and asked if they wanted to go hear them play. To his surprise, Bird and McHale said yes.



Soon, the whole team was in on it. Walton explained to the Dead folks that the Celtics wanted to come to the concert but did not want to be in the public eye. The crew proceeded to build a wooden amphitheater at the edge of the stage especially for the Celtics.



On the night of the concert, the entire team, except for Danny Ainge, whose wife wouldn't let him go, met at Bird's house. They took a caravan of stretch limos to Worcester, mingled with the band for a few minutes, and went to take their seats in the dark.



The Grateful Dead came on stage to deafening applause and did some last-second equipment testing. Garcia stepped into a cone of light projected down from the ceiling, tapped the mike and tested his guitar pedal. Then he looked over to where the Celtics were sitting, made eye contact with Bird and distinctly mouthed these words.



"Larry, this is what we do."



The band then ripped into a Grateful Dead concert. Several hours later, the Celtics staggered out, their eyes like saucers.



The next day, the band returned the favor and came to the Garden to hang out during practice.



Diminutive drummer Mickey Hart played one-on-one with the 6 foot, 11 inch McHale. Garcia, in black leather jacket and sunglasses, stood leaning against a wall with his arms folded, coolness personified. Bird, who had a pre-game ritual of dribbling the basketball around the edge of the court, spotted Garcia. On his third time around, Larry whipped a left-handed, behind-the-back pass that smashed off the wall about 6 inches from Garcia's head. Jerry never moved a muscle. No one will ever know what went on behind those shades.



Hart, however, did react. Leaping onto Bird's back, he screamed, "Don't you ever do that again!"



Walton has lots of other stories. It's part of the deal when you hang out with legends.