When the Game Was Ours - Larry Bird [39]
Johnson willingly fetched Kareem's paper, bought him hot dogs in the airport, and nicknamed him "Cap" so there was never any doubt who ranked atop the Lakers' hierarchy. And yet, Magic was a born leader on the court and couldn't suppress those tendencies.
"It was potentially a big problem," Buss said. "The way Earvin played the game, he just had to be in charge. At the same time, you had this Hall of Fame player who had already won before."
Johnson endeared himself to his teammates with his hustle and his unselfishness. Norm Nixon nicknamed him "Buck" because he was always galloping around like a young deer. Although the veterans knew Magic spent time with Buss, nobody was aware of how close the owner and the rookie had become, and therefore no one objected.
"The extra hand-holding made sense because he was so young," Wilkes said. "I don't think Earvin had any intentions of crossing the line. I'm not sure he even understood he was crossing the line."
Johnson may have been a teenager, but he played with the swagger of a veteran. In his first practice with the Lakers, he turned it over twice because Wilkes, a three-time All-Star, wasn't ready for the pass.
"Magic!" McKinney reprimanded him. "You can't make those passes. This isn't college."
Johnson fumed. He was embarrassed to be singled out and furious that Wilkes didn't make the play.
The next time down the floor, Magic waited until Wilkes cut through the key, then the moment Wilkes turned, fired the ball at him. "Jamaal," he said evenly, "I'm going to keep hitting you in the head until you look."
Wilkes became the ideal complement to Magic's exceptional court vision. He moved gracefully with or without the ball (hence his nickname "Silk") and had great hands. He also knew how to use a pick better than anyone Johnson had ever played with before. He didn't object to the rookie's admonishment because, Wilkes said, "he was right. After that, I always looked."
Not everyone responded as positively to the confident rookie. Johnson was outplaying teammate Ron Boone in practice, and when the two went up for a rebound, Boone purposely whacked Magic in the back of the head. As they ran down the floor, Magic said, "You better know I'm going to get you back."
"Keep moving, rookie, you're not going to do anything," Boone replied.
Magic delivered his payback in the form of a fist to Boone's neck. Boone crashed to the floor and came up swinging.
"Don't you ever do that shit to me again!" Johnson shouted.
"Magic, get off the floor!" McKinney barked.
"Bullshit!" Magic retorted. "He hit me first, and when I retaliate, you're going to throw me off the court?"
"Get off the floor," McKinney repeated.
"I might be a rookie, but none of you are going to punk me," Magic said. "You're dealing with the wrong guy if you do."
Johnson sat on the sideline for the remainder of the practice, then left without speaking. For the next six days, he dominated practice, knocking down shots and firing pinpoint passes, each delivered with his teeth gritted. Jerry West tried to calm him, but Magic was unmoved.
"Jerry," he said, "I can smile nice, but I can fight mean too if I have to."
On October 12, 1979, Magic Johnson and Larry Bird made their pro debuts on opposite ends of the country.
Bird, operating on East Coast time, was in the starting lineup against the Houston Rockets in Boston Garden. His performance was unremarkable from a statistical standpoint because he was in foul trouble for most of the night and watched the Celtics pull away for a 114–105 win from the bench. His coming-out party proved to be the next night in Cleveland, where he poured in 28 points.
Because California was three hours behind Boston, Bird was showered, dressed, and settled in his family room to watch Magic's first professional regular season game in San Diego. When Johnson fed Kareem for a skyhook at the buzzer to win it, Johnson was so ecstatic that he jumped into the big fella's arms.
"What the hell is he doing?"