When the Game Was Ours - Larry Bird [145]
"Eleven years ago," he said, wiping his eyes, "I didn't know if I'd be here to accept this honor. It's truly a blessing.
"I can't tell you what a great moment this is for me and my family. Long after I'm gone, my picture will still be up there."
"Right next to mine," said Bird.
***
For months after Magic Johnson retired, he had recurring dreams of playing basketball, of playing against Bird. Sometimes Magic couldn't make his body move in his dream. The game was so slow, and he'd reach for the ball, but he couldn't quite get his hands around it ... and then he would wake up.
In Bird's dream, he would be gliding up the court, floating as if he were on a cloud, but then he'd look down to shoot, and the ball was gone. Suddenly, he was in a gym he didn't recognize, with players he'd never seen. And no matter how many times he tried, he couldn't figure out how that ball was snatched from his hands.
"Retirement" was a challenge for both men. They were presented with numerous opportunities related to basketball, but they all paled in comparison to the rush of competing against the best athletes in the world.
In March 1994, owner Jerry Buss approached Magic to ask a favor. The Lakers had stumbled out to a 21–47 start, and Buss planned to fire coach Randy Pfund.
"Could you take over as head coach until the end of the season?" Buss asked.
The team played a different brand of Laker basketball. Kareem and Michael Cooper were long gone, and Byron Scott was too. James Worthy was in his final season with the Lakers and averaging a career-low 10.2 points a game.
Magic had never coached before, yet he couldn't fathom saying no to Buss, the man who had nurtured him through his rookie season, rewarded him with the most lucrative contract in NBA history, advised him regularly on his business ventures, and tirelessly scoured the medical community to make sure Johnson was given the best possible care after his HIV diagnosis.
Johnson's disease had not affected him adversely. He painstakingly monitored his diet, his exercise, and his medication and felt healthy enough to do almost anything—even coach the Lakers.
"There's only 16 games left," Magic said, when discussing it with Cookie. "How bad could it be?"
Bird learned of Magic's new vocation on ESPN's SportsCenter. In all the years he had been around Johnson, he'd never heard him discuss a desire to sit on the bench. Although it would be three more years before Bird's own foray into coaching, he already knew it was a daunting undertaking that required careful research and preparation.
"You can't just say, 'Oh, I think I'll coach now,'" Bird said. "It's crazy to ask someone to do that. But that's exactly what the Lakers did with Magic."
His first day on the job, Johnson drove to practice an hour and a half early to work with the point guards. When he arrived, he was surprised to discover that no one was in the gym. Magic sat and waited. Most of the Lakers rolled in five minutes before they were due or even, in some cases, after practice was under way.
"This isn't going to work," Magic said to longtime assistant coach Bill Bertka, who had been with Johnson through the Lakers' glory years. "We used to come an hour and a half before. We used to stay an hour afterward. Don't these guys realize they need to do that to get better?"
"Earvin," Bertka replied, "it's a different time."
Johnson notched the first victory of his coaching tenure on March 27 against the Milwaukee Bucks and his old Lakers coach Mike Dunleavy. The night before the game, Magic received a one hour pep talk from Pat Riley, who also offered some coaching tips. George Lynch, a swing player from North Carolina who Magic felt could become a force