The Golden Age of Basketball-Chapter 269 - 11 Rebirth from Death

"In my sixth season with the Clippers, the situation became truly abysmal. There was no improvement on the court, I was fed up, and thoroughly sick of everything to do with Donald Sterling."

"In Los Angeles, the traffic, dust, noise, crowds, pollution, losing games, and making errors had worn me out to my core, this wasn’t what I wanted."

"The past five years, my basketball career could be summed up as rest, play, fracture, rest, heal, play, fracture, surgery, rest, heal, play... I could write at least two more rows like that."

"Over and over, endless like Sisyphus pushing his boulder, countless doctors told me I must stop, that I shouldn’t try to return to the NBA, but should instead focus on healing enough to live a normal life."

"The doctors told me that if I continued like this, I was at risk of amputation."

"Aside from injuries preventing me from playing, these five years were also plagued by ongoing lawsuits off the court, with the Clippers suing just about everyone—me, the NBA, Lloyd’s Insurance Company, the Trail Blazers, and so forth."

"I sued the Trail Blazers’ doctor, Lloyd’s sued the insurance broker, and the Players Union sued the NBA League. It was like the Ouroboros from Greek mythology, endlessly devouring itself."

"My time, energy, resources, and spirit were also consumed by these troubles. The birth of my son Luke was one ray of light that brightened my life, closely followed by another from Dr. Bill Wagner of Wealthy California."

"During a consultation, the other doctors were discussing a grim option: they thought I should have an amputation."

"He’ll continue to face trouble for the rest of his life."

"His leg is crooked, and it will only get worse."

"The pain won’t go away, it can only intensify."

"He won’t be able to play basketball again."

"We need to cut off his foot, amputation is a very real possibility."

"These voices echoed in my ears like the whispers of demons, but they were not demons, they were doctors concerned for my healthy life."

"That’s when Dr. Wagner appeared, quietly saying, ’I have an idea,’ after a long period of observation and thought."

"He proposed a new type of surgery, and amidst skepticism from others, he elaborated on the extremely complicated surgical procedure."

"The operation required five big incisions on my leg, to work on various parts of the foot and ankle, including tendons, fasciae, and ligaments."

"He believed he had found the root of my problem—there was a congenital piece of cartilage between the navicular and calcaneal bones of my foot, which was obstructing the normal movement and pressure release of the ankle joint."

"Dr. Wagner’s goal was to address this union bone, to realign the mechanical structure of the ankle joint."

"Everyone said it wouldn’t work, but Dr. Wagner calmly and steadfastly maintained his position."

"When asked how many times he had performed such a surgery, Dr. Wagner said, ’Ten times.’"

"How many out of ten regained their health? ’None.’"

"But I chose to believe in him, believing that I would be the lucky eleventh, because I wanted to play basketball."

"Although Dr. Wagner sternly warned me, ’I am doing this not so you can go back to playing basketball, but in the hope that you can avoid amputation and live a normal life.’"

"Fortunately, the operation was successful, but I was unable to play for the Clippers again. Their fans went to games on Halloween decked out in red beards, walking with canes and wearing plaster casts, winning the best costume award for the holiday." 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"I tried to contact Jerry West, but the Lakers and Jerry were not interested in me."

"They had just defeated the Celtics to win the championship, and Jerry didn’t want anything to do with me."

"I thought about calling Red Auerbach, but then Coach Jack Ramsey reached out to me unexpectedly."

"That season, our relationship began to thaw. After an away game in Portland, he invited me to dinner, and we reconciled."

"I can say this, in the half-season after our relationship mended, we got along even better than when I was playing in Portland."

"He didn’t need to yell at me anymore, didn’t need to criticize my off-court behavior, and I didn’t need to hate him; moreover, I found him surprisingly more gentle."

"I knew he was a person with a strong desire to win, loved challenges, had high self-esteem, which was the reason for our long-standing issues—we had forgiven each other a long time ago, yet we were reluctant to admit it, reluctant to take that step."

"He took that step, and even came to Los Angeles to speak to me candidly, and I was deeply moved."

"But when he invited me back to play for the Trail Blazers, I was shocked and immediately refused him."

"I said I loved it there, but I couldn’t play for Portland again, it was an impossibility."

Jack actually began to talk about the changes in the team, saying they had replaced the medical staff, improved the medical process, and purchased more equipment.

I knew all this, and I also knew that the Trail Blazers had apologized to me in the newspapers, which touched me deeply, but it wasn’t enough to make me go back to playing basketball.

Listeting to Jack’s talk, that kind of request that put aside all pride, I even felt ashamed of my own ruthlessness, but I couldn’t forget the pain I’d suffered over the years, it was too painful.

Then I realized that the person who had changed the most was actually Jack, he had changed a lot.

When I told him that, Jack just smiled and didn’t say anything.

I asked him why, and Jack said, "I want to win another championship with you."

That nearly completely moved me—I knew about the Trail Blazers’ performance in the Western Conference finals.

They were short of a backup center, Ah Gan was an incomparable genius, and I was his die-hard fan.

But still, something was missing, I knew I couldn’t agree completely, I couldn’t convince myself, that would be a betrayal of the pain I once experienced.

I told Jack I needed to think it over, that I had a summer to make my choice.

Later, I met with Coach Wu Deng, Wu Deng told me to follow my heart, to break through the mental shackles, and to make the choice that was best for my life.

I went to see Donald Sterling and told him I wanted to leave, Sterling, sitting across from me, looked at me expressionlessly.

He said, "Bill, do you really want this?"

I said yes, it’s time, I’ve done my utmost, and can’t do anything more for him and his team.

Sterling sat in the luxurious high-back throne behind his office desk, smirked with the style of a crawling creature, and told me that if I were to be traded, I would have to give up all the deferred compensation I had accumulated over the years with the Clippers.

Deferred compensation was a strategy that NBA teams had at that time for the sake of financial health, where salaries were deferred, something that a lot of players with big contracts did, especially after injuries like mine.

It was a large sum of money, almost all of my assets, but I still nodded vigorously, saying I wanted to be traded.

After that, both Portland and Boston tried to put out offers to get me, and I met with Ah Gan in September.

He had been invited by Wu Deng to participate in a coaches’ exchange forum, this guy always seemed to pop up in some odd and unexpected places.

Then he came to my house, and the first thing he said to me was, "Bill, the Trail Blazers are thinking of trading me to the Clippers to get you back."

I knew he was talking nonsense, joking around; I laughed heartily and said that was impossible. He said sometimes the Trail Blazers were unbelievably stupid, and nothing was impossible.

If he had come and tried to persuade me to return to Portland right away, although I admire him, I would have resisted internally—I don’t like lobbyists.

But now I knew he was not one, he was my friend, and we vented about how stupid the Trail Blazers could be, about the ridiculous things they did.

I told him that in 1978, when I had a serious injury in my leg, the management didn’t believe there was something wrong with my body; they thought it was my soul that was the problem.

So they took me to a faith healer; one dawn he took me outdoors, and we waded into the Willamette River, standing on the riverbed knee-deep.

After the sun rose, the scenery was incredibly beautiful, and when the sun got higher, right at the top of Mount Hood, the healer grabbed my wrist, stretched our hands towards the sky, and shouted:

"You are healed, you are healed, your leg feels good, now go out and win us a championship!"

Fuck that, my leg was almost killing me, I felt like this guy was crazy, and the management of the Trail Blazers, too.

Ah Gan was shocked, he said he would have to think carefully about whether to stay in Portland when his contract was up, maybe he should take his talent to the warmer South.

He didn’t talk to me about any return to Portland, not a word, he just took care of me, and we chatted about music, philosophy, history—his insight into things was still fascinating to me.

Especially his perspective on history, we talked a lot, particularly about his sharp criticism of American war crimes, revealing from a different angle the nature of American war profiteers.

It was a pleasant exchange, he stayed in Los Angeles for two more days, and we practiced basketball together, played games; he was lighter and faster than last season, his turnaround jump shot was so quick it surprised me.

I knew that next season he would make an even bigger impact on the league than in his rookie season.

Then he returned to Portland, and then I heard the news that Larry Weinberg had fired Stu-Inman.

I knew then; it was time to go back, all the obstacles in my heart were gone, I was going back to Portland, back to where I once called home.]

————Published in 2016, excerpt from Bill Walton’s autobiography "Back from the Dead".