Celtics Trivia 12/13/12

Without googling or looking in a reference book (aka "cheating"), answer the following quiz question:


What was Red fined $300 for doing in the 1957 NBA Finals?



This poll runs for two Mayan days...


bob


.

Probably kicked a ref in the a$$ ( or blew smoke in their face )

had to be something more than what would come out of his mouth.

beat

Punching the Hawks owner before game 2.

Ben Kerner

But Red actually instigated the situation by challenging the height of the basket at which the Celtics would be shooting during the first half. A couple of his players (could have been Cousy and Sharman) told Red they thought the height was off. (I can't recall whether they felt it was too high or two low.) Kerner went off like a cheap 4th of July salute, and Red popped him. But, although he was later fined, I believe Red was not ejected from the game or even given a technical foul.

Sam

The following is from Tall Tales, by Terry Pluto. I see that I got it wrong -- it was before game 3. I knew it was in St. Louis, and it couldn't be game 2 because Boston had home court advantage.

I really, really like this book. I got it when I did the series of posts on Wilt, and I'm in the midst of reading it for the second time. It's basically a series of interviews so that you hear the players, coaches, and others from those days tell great stories.

Note: I've inserted some explanatory text in [brackets].

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In the third game of the 1957 Finals en route to his first NBA title, Boston coach Red Auerbach punched St. Louis owner Ben Kerner. It happened before the opening tap. Auerbach was not ejected, although he later was fined $300. St. Louis won that game, 100-98. But the Celtics eventually won the series.

Marty Blake [Hawks GM]: There was some bad blood between the Hawks and Celtics, part of it having to do with Red once working under Ben Kerner [when Red coached the Tri-Cities Blackhawks, the earliest incarnation of the Hawks franchise], and the other being that these were the two best teams in basketball. The teams had split the first two games. When the Celtics were in our building, a couple of their players had been hit by eggs thrown from the fans. So Red was not in a good mood before Game 3.

Bob Cousy: Auerbach blames me for what happened, but I believe the whole setting was a factor. At Kiel Auditorium, the players had to walk down from a stage area to get from the dressing room to the court. The fans were right on top of you, and the St. Louis fans could be very vulgar, and especially vicious for the black players.
As we were warming up, I sensed that there was something wrong with the basket.
I said, "Arnold, that basket's not 10 feet." [Cousy always called Auerbach by his given name, Arnold.]
Red was out on the court, pointing to the basket and yelling about it being the wrong height. Marty Blake grabbed a 10-foot pole and was checking it.

Frank Ramsey: It was Bill Sharman who first complained about the basket. Bill, being the meticulous fellow that his is, was shooting free throws and they kept coming up short. Sharman went up to Red to complain about the basket, and Red was out in the middle of the court, standing with Heinsohn, when I saw Ben Kerner leave his courtside seats and walk toward Red.

Ben Kerner: I just thought it was another of Red's stunts, things he did to annoy people. This was right before game time and I didn't want to start late.
I went out there and said, "What the hell is going on, Red?"
He said the basket was off.
I said, "That's bush. It's just a cheap trick."
Then he punched me.

Bob Cousy: Kerner took Arnold's questioning the basket as a personal affront. He was screaming obscenities at Arnold, questioning his integrity. Arnold had his back turned to Kerner. As Kerner came closer, Arnold just turned around and leveled him. He really cold-cocked Kerner, put him right down at midcourt with a sold-out crowd waiting for the game to begin.

Frank Ramsey: Kerner's nose was bleeding, so one of his friends came out on the court and wiped it with a handkerchief. Meanwhile, Red just walked away from the whole thing. Then Kerner got up and went back to the stands and we played the game.

Bill Sharman: I believe Red wanted us to see that he wasn't about to back down from anything. He knew that St. Louis was s tough place to play and that the crowd was hostile. And there he was, socking the owner right in front of the fans.

Bob Pettit: The players on both teams didn't think much of it. We had seen Kerner and Red go at it before. There was one night when those guys ended up wrestling. They were rolling around on the floor, yelling at each other about something.

Red Auerbach: Ah, that was no big deal. Not worth talking about.

Ben Kerner: We all had our fights back then, and not just the players. I love Red. He lit up the building every time he stepped into the arena. He was a great coach, he was in charge. He was great for the game. He may have punched me, but I had a night for him in St. Louis the year he quit coaching.

So was the basket wrong??

beat

Sam or someone else may know better than I do, but I don't think so.

The basket was not wrong. But, although Red always said his players deserved all the credit for the glory years because he had never even taken a shot, he certainly took a good shot that night.

Today's fan would undoubtedly think it was a big deal because the league now has such stringent rules. I wouldn't be shocked if Red would have missed half a season, or even a full season, today.

But that incident occurred squarely during what I call the "primitive NBA years." There weren't a lot of rules, and players and coaches frequently played fast and loose with the rules that did exist. It was a world almost tailor-made for someone like Red. (I mean "tailor-made for Red," because there was no one else like Red.) Give him an inch, and he'd take a foot because a mile would have been too obvious.

The primitive nature of the league was instrumental in instilling the excitement of being a fan—in the 50s even more so than the 60s. It was as though one was let in on a marvelous, unpredictable secret. It was the closest thing to a participant sport which you could "play" from the comfort (and safety) of a first balcony seat. As a fan, you could be rewarded handsomely for being crafty—in the mold of Red. Red won championships by being crafty. I won access to the players by being crafty.

That was when I learned that the best way to enjoy professional basketball was to try to experience it from the same perspectives held by the players (and coaches). Never call Havlicek "Hondo" because only fans and the media did that; "John" or "Check" were what he was called by teammates. Johnny most had his own nicknames for most of the players (including "Slippery Sam"), but those nicknames were almost never used by teammates. As soon as a game ends, focus immediately on the next game rather than dwelling on what might have been; and build on the positives (hence my "glimmer" predisposition).

But, most of all—MOST OF ALL—be intimately sensitive to the nuances of the rhythms and flow of the game as it unfolded. Although I don't make public predictions on game outcomes, I constantly predict, in my own mind, what lies minutes ahead in any given game. It I turn out to be right, it reinforces my sense of anticipation. If I turn out to be wrong, I analyze where and why I blew it and treat it as a learning experience. It's a lifelong exercise in trying to replicate the instinctive outlook employed by players and coaches. I'll never attain that goal, but I'll never stop trying either.

NBA basketball has its imperfections, to be sure. But I've found it to be consistently exhilarating...and never more so than when I had that tight feeling in my stomach as I mentally followed The Cooz upcourt in the 50s. It was total immersion, and it was delicious.

Sam

I guess there's not much point in announcing that the correct answer to the quiz was Ben Kerner, is there?

And today's fans think the league is more physical now? What a joke. Could you imagine if this happened today? They'd both be banned for a year and more, but Red has to pay $300 for popping an owner in the mouth. Granted, $300 was a lot more money back then, but still...


bob


.

Bob, the league wasn't tougher back then. It was WAY tougher—and not all that subtle.

I the 1953 Syracuse four-overtime playoff clinching game I've posted about, Boston policeman Bob Brannum (a bout between him and Loscy would have been a great take) pasted Syracuse star Dolph Schayes, and the two got into a heated fight. They both got tossed (huge advantage Boston), although I'm not sure whether either of them was assessed a technical foul. For years afterward, people swore that Red had given Brannum instructions to start the fight.

For the rest of the game, Syracuse player-coach Al Cervi kept jabbing Cousy in the ribs on virtually every trip up the floor, trying to incite a fight with The Cooz, as Johnny Most (in his first season with the Celts) went berserk. But Houdini just ignored Cervi on the way to 50 points (including 30 of 32 from the line).

The league was full of tricks and sneaky stuff. Once, Red thought a ref had blown a call against Sam. Red called a timeout and spent the entire timeout berating the ref nose-to-nose with Sam looking on. Finally, gentlemanly Sam had endured enough, and he slammed the ball on the floor with such violence that it bounced something like 20 feet in the air. An automatic technical, even in those prehistoric days.

But Sam thought fast, caught the ball, bounced it a couple of times, spun it in the air, handed it to the ref, and said, "It's okay." And he got away with it.

Sam was also the first player I saw throw himself an inbounds pass off the back of an opponent. Sam made the easy three-footer. I've seen Rondo do it within the past year.

I sometimes think about the creativity displayed in the old days, both on and off the court. The Ramsey flop was just one of numerous examples. My theory is that today's players and coaches are not ac creative because (1) regulations are far more extensive and (2) all the good ideas were taken by the old guys.

Sam