When the Game Was Ours - Larry Bird [144]
"Larry Bird," his longtime rival responded. "Hell, man. We're back together again."
It had been almost three years since the two had seen each other. The previous occasion had not been nearly as momentous—a Fox Sports special to commemorate the 20th anniversary of their Michigan State–Indiana State clash.
On a rainy day in September 2002, the two men who shared a legacy also shared a microphone to honor the induction of Earvin "Magic" Johnson into the Basketball Hall of Fame.
Magic's original wish was for the two superstars to go into the Hall together. Each of them retired in 1992 after their Dream Team gold rush in Barcelona, but a pair of brief comebacks derailed Johnson from following the same schedule as Bird. The Hall of Fame requires players to be retired a minimum of five years before they are eligible, so in 1998 Larry went in without his Lakers rival, whose final comeback ended with the completion of the 1995–96 season.
There was never any doubt that Magic would be a first-ballot inductee; the only suspense revolved around who he'd choose to present him.
According to Hall of Fame guidelines, Johnson was required to ask someone who was already enshrined, thereby eliminating the obvious choice of Pat Riley as a candidate.
There were other members of the Lakers family Magic could have selected—Jerry West, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Elgin Baylor—but all along he had someone else in mind.
"I wanted Larry," Johnson said. "When I think back on my career, he's the first person who pops into my head."
He called the former Celtic and asked him to pull out his calendar.
"Larry," Magic said, "how does September look for you?"
"Why?" Bird said. "You taking me fishing?"
"I was hoping you'd present me in the Hall of Fame," Magic said.
Bird caught his breath. Magic's invitation surprised him. It was an unexpected pleasure—and an unorthodox decision to tap the very man who had tormented him for a significant portion of his professional life to present him for basketball's highest honor.
"Really?" Bird said. "Well, I'd be honored."
After he hung up the phone, Larry considered what Magic had told him. No matter where Johnson went or how many speeches he made, the first question from the audience was always the same: have you seen Larry lately? Bird experienced the same phenomenon in his travels. Without fail, someone was bound to ask him, "How is Magic feeling? Have you talked to him?"
"We're connected," Magic told Larry. "We have been for a long time, for better or for worse. And we don't see enough of each other anyway. Let's have some fun in Springfield."
Three months later, when the two convened at the Hall of Fame for a joint press conference, Bird entertained the rapt audience with the story of the day he came back from the World Invitational Tournament and breathlessly extolled Magic's basketball virtues to his brother.
"Aw, he can't be that good," Mark Bird said at the time.
After Johnson and his Spartans upended Bird's undefeated Indiana State in the NCAA championship, Mark Bird amended his comments.
"You're right," Mark told Larry. "Magic is better than you."
The audience roared as Bird recounted the story. Magic playfully grabbed Larry's arm, then told him, "You pushed me. You made me a better player. I shot 800 jump shots every day in the summer because I knew you were somewhere, shooting just as many."
For the next half-hour, in front of more than 100 media members, the two stars traded compliments and barbs, heartbreaks and heroics. Afterward, Magic would say, it felt as if no one else was in the room.
"Just two old friends, catching up on everything," he said.
That evening Bird stood on a podium at the Springfield Civic Center and addressed a capacity crowd teeming with Massachusetts natives and Celtics fans.
"I'd like to call out to all of you New Englanders," Bird said. "It's time to lay down your weapons. The battle is finally over. It's time to move on."
Magic fought back tears as he addressed the crowd, including Cookie and their three children,