When the Game Was Ours - Larry Bird [2]
I was surprised to hear Larry describe watching me win the NBA championship in my rookie season. He admitted he was jealous, which really shocked me, because he never ever showed it back then. Of course, as you'll learn when you start reading this book, I had my own bouts of jealousy when it came to Larry.
When I go out and speak to people, I tell them I wish their kids had a chance to see Larry Bird play, because he did it the right way. He played a team game, but it was his will to win, his toughness, his spirit, and his knowledge of the game that I admired the most.
I'm tied to Larry—forever. That's just how it is. I wanted the two of us to walk into the Hall of Fame together, but we didn't get a chance to do that, so this book is the next best thing. It gives us a chance to tell our story and share with you the evolution of our friendship.
Some of it will surprise you. I knew while we were playing I was doggedly scrutinizing Larry's every move, but I had no idea until we started talking for this book that he was following me just as closely.
I can't get away from Larry. I bet he can't get away from me either. I run into fans all the time and the first thing they want to know is, "Have you seen him? Have you talked to Larry?" No one ever asks me about Kareem or James Worthy or Byron or Coop. It's always Larry. We've gotten used to that.
When I go around the country, I always get a nice reception, especially in Boston. The people tell their children, "You missed it. Larry and this guy here put on a show. We used to hate this guy, but we respected him."
Every time I walk into the new Boston Garden, I have tons of memories. I swear they still have the same guys putting down that parquet floor that they had when I played. It takes me back to the day. The Beat LA T-shirts, the vendors outside, the cold showers, the fire alarms in the middle of the night when we stayed at the Boston hotels. There has never been a better rivalry.
What we try to do in this book is put you right in the thick of it—like in 1984, just after the Celtics have won the championship. I'm stuck in a Boston hotel room, looking down at all those Celtics fans going crazy in the street. And you won't believe where Larry is!
Sometimes I'll pop in some of the old Celtics-Lakers games. I never get tired of watching them. On each team there are five bodies moving in sync with each other. Usually we scored 60 points by halftime. It was basketball poetry. When I'm watching those games, I can't help but notice the intensity on Larry's face, and on my own face. We never took a single play off. We couldn't afford to because, if we did, the other guy would exploit it. Can you imagine what it's like to have a player of Larry Bird's caliber pushing you night after night? It wore me out.
It took some time for us to get to know each other. It's hard to develop a relationship with someone who wants exactly the same thing that you want. We were different, that's for sure. I was very emotional on the court, while often Larry never even changed expression. Inside, I knew, his heart was pounding just as fast as mine, but there were countless times I'd look at him and wonder, "What's he thinking?"
Now—finally—I know.
I always wanted to work with Larry on a project like this. The love and respect I have for him is genuine. I've never met anyone else like him.
That's because there's only one Larry Bird.
I'm proud to call him my friend.
EARVIN "MAGIC" JOHNSON JR.
Los Angeles, March 2009
1. APRIL 9, 1978
Lexington, Kentucky
THE ERRANT SHOT came off the glass at a sharp angle, but Larry Bird, charting the flight of the ball, pulled down the rebound and advanced without hesitation, swiveling his head as he examined his options.
Earvin Johnson