When the Game Was Ours - Larry Bird [118]
His message that heterosexuals were at risk for HIV infection was carefully monitored in one segment of the population: the NBA, where many athletes besides Johnson feared that their sexual encounters had left them at risk.
"Right after we found out about Magic, a bunch of us ran out and got tested too," Worthy said. "It was one of the most traumatic things I've ever been through."
Almost immediately there were whispers and innuendo about Magic's sexuality. Rumors persisted that he had engaged in a relationship with a man, or in a three-way encounter with a man and a woman. Magic felt confident that his friends would dismiss these falsehoods for him, but then was distraught to learn from Rosen and other NBA friends that Isiah Thomas had called asking curious questions. According to Rosen, Thomas told him, "I keep hearing Magic is gay."
"C'mon, Isiah, you know Earvin better than anyone," Rosen responded.
"I know, but I don't know what he's doing when he's out there in LA."
"Isiah kept questioning people about it," Magic said. "I couldn't believe that. Everyone else—Byron, Arsenio, Michael, Larry—they were all supporting me. And the one guy I thought I could count on had all these doubts. It was like he kicked me in the stomach."
"Of all the things that happened, I think that hurt Earvin the most," Cookie said. "But we had no choice but to move on from people like that. Whenever something like that happened, I reminded him, 'They just don't get it.'"
Johnson needed some guidance to navigate his way through this monumental personal crisis. Lon Rosen contacted Elizabeth Glaser, an AIDS activist who contracted the virus from a tainted blood transfusion following the birth of her daughter Ariel, and she was happy to provide it.
Glaser, whose husband, Paul Michael Glaser, was the star of the popular television series Starsky and Hutch, unknowingly passed the disease on to her daughter and son Jake. After Ariel died at the age of seven, Glaser helped found the Pediatric AIDS Foundation and became a tireless advocate for the rights of infected patients.
"I didn't know anyone with AIDS," Magic said. "She helped me wrap my mind around it. She was very sick when I met her. She told me, 'You are going to be here a long time. It's too late for me, but not for you.'"
While Glaser conceded it would not be an easy road, she implored Magic and Cookie to assume a leadership role in educating the country about HIV and AIDS.
"You don't have time to wallow in this," Glaser told them. "You have to fight."
It wasn't just about raising money. It was about raising awareness. Most people (including Magic at the outset) didn't distinguish AIDS from HIV. It was important for the public to understand that neither disease could be transmitted by sharing a cup, or hugging someone who was infected, or coming in contact with their sweat. The last point was of critical importance to NBA players, who were still reeling from the downfall of one of their most notable stars.
"We were starved for information," said Rambis. "How did it happen? Is it contagious? Nobody knew the answers. What about sweat? What if we bump heads? Guys were scared. Really scared."
When Johnson returned from Hawaii, he showed up at the Forum out of habit. Although he was no l onger on the roster, he dressed in his practice gear to get some shooting in and do some drills before practice. When some of his teammates wandered in early, he expected an enthusiastic greeting. Instead, Magic was met with polite small talk before the players hurriedly moved to another basket. When he tried to coax a couple of them into a game of 1-on-1, there were no takers.
"It took me a while to realize they didn't want my sweat on their body," Magic said.
Only Byron Scott embraced him when he walked in. Only Scott engaged in a meaningful conversation with him and lingered, asking, "Are you feeling okay? Are you taking care of yourself?"
"I wanted to shout at those other