The Celtics and Lakers already have met more times to decide a major American sports championship than any two clubs have in any of our four major team sports, and now they are about to play for a 12th time. How could anyone not be at least a little bit engulfed in this history?
Where would Celtics history be without Selvy’s (Missed) Shot, Cooz’s Last Game, the Balloon Game, Henderson Steals The Ball, The Great Takedown, the Heat Game, the Great ’08 Comeback, and, of course, 131-92?
Where would Lakers history be without Elgin scoring 61, West scoring 40 again and again and again, Kareem’s ’85 Redemption, and the “Junior, Junior Sky Hook’’? Sure, the Los Angeles list is a bit shorter. The Lakers are 2-9 against the Celtics in Finals. Of course the list is shorter.
When this rivalry began, the Lakers were still in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. (Why they never changed the nickname when they headed westward in 1960 has never satisfactorily been explained.) The year was 1959, and the Minneapolis Lakers had no chance whatsoever against Bill Russell, Bob Cousy, Tom Heinsohn, Bill Sharman, Frank Ramsey, Jim Loscutoff, and the Jones Boys, all of whom, save Loscy, are in the Hall of Fame (and Loscy has his name/No. 18 retired). All the Lakers had to offer was a sensational rookie named Elgin Baylor, and, as great as he was, that wasn’t enough to challenge the Celtics, who pulled off the first four-game sweep in NBA Finals history.
That mismatch aside, the rivalry we will celebrate for the 11th time encompasses three distinct eras, and it tells us a lot about how the NBA has grown and how spoiled we have all become. I mean, you don’t like a 9 p.m. EDT starting time? Back in the ’60s, if the game from LA was on TV at all, it would start at 8 o’clock PDT, which means 11 here. Don’t like it? Don’t watch.
Of course, not to watch was to miss seeing the greatest team-sport player in North American history. For the ’60s belonged to Bill Russell, who was undefeated against the Lakers and 9-1 overall in championships sought and won. The Lakers had Baylor, who merely invented modern offensive basketball with his astonishing array of pumps, double-pumps, and up-and-under moves that forever changed the concept of what shooting a basketball could entail. They also had Jerry West, the Logo, who played with a ferocity, dignity, and, of course, an extraordinary skill that earned him universal respect. Good Lord, even Johnny Most could not bring himself to utter a negative word about the man he called “Gentleman Jerry.’’
