When the Game Was Ours - Larry Bird [76]
Bird's temple was throbbing, and his back was locked up again, but he could hear the crowd groaning on the television monitor as Boston's lead slipped away. Midway through the third quarter, Bird started fidgeting.
"Doc, should I go back in?" Bird asked.
"Larry, I think you've done enough," answered Scheller.
"Ah, hell," said Bird, who popped off the table and ran back onto the court to a thunderous ovation. The Celtics, down three at the time, ripped off a 33–14 run and won the game.
Joe Bird would have been proud. Larry Bird vividly recalls his father Joe hobbling home one night with a horribly swollen and discolored ankle from an accident at work. The next morning the ankle was twice its normal size, but Bird's father loosened the laces on his boot, jammed his foot in, and limped back to his job. The moment left an indelible impression on his son, who concluded it was heresy to lie down on the job, no matter how much he was hurting.
That's why, during the 1985 season, Bird ignored the searing pain in his toe for nearly three weeks. When he finally allowed Dr. Silva to examine him, the team physician said, "You've got a serious infection between your two toes. This could lead to a dangerous situation.
"We'll give a shot of Novocain for that because I'm going to have to cut you."
"Nah," Bird said, "just give me one of those beers over there."
Silva administered a two-and-a-half-inch cut to allow the infection to drain. Then he wrapped it up. Bird played that night with considerable discomfort, and when he took his shoe off after the game, his sock was soaked in blood.
"I swear to God, they carved him up like he was John Wayne," Carr said. "Toughest guy I've ever seen.
"But what Larry doesn't understand [is that] other people don't have the same threshold for pain that he has."
Bird grappled throughout his career with separating his own lofty standards from the more pedestrian goals of his teammates. He had little tolerance for players who were unwilling or unable to demonstrate the mettle required to flourish in the NBA.
He was critical by nature, which contributed to his uncommon drive. Danny Ainge appreciated Bird's discerning basketball eye, but conceded, "If you were on the wrong end of it, it could be very tough."
Bird's smoldering intensity was a regular topic of conversation among his teammates. McHale admired his relentless pursuit of excellence, but Bird occasionally displayed an edge that McHale didn't totally understand—or condone. Thus, when Bird verbally harangued a teammate for not filling the lane or manning up properly, McHale cringed.
Conversely, Bird viewed McHale as an exceptional player who could have reached enormous heights but chose not to wring the most out of his considerable abilities. During one game against Sacramento, McHale was benefiting from an obvious mismatch and scoring at will. After the ball went to him on seven consecutive possessions, he told Bird, "Hey, spread it around. I've scored enough for one night."
While Bird was almost maniacal in his pursuit of the perfect game, McHale was content to contribute 15 points and 10 rebounds and call it a day. He refused to allow basketball to consume him; Bird refused to allow distractions to penetrate his basketball concentration.
Their contrasting approaches to the game made for an odd team dynamic. Bird respected McHale's game so much that he rarely criticized him for not possessing the killer instinct that, in Bird's mind, could have spurred McHale on to a league MVP trophy.
McHale was so taken with Bird's work ethic that he rarely challenged his teammate when he became moody or difficult after a tough loss. "Aw, that's just Birdie," McHale would say.
Their unusual relationship accounted for some comical on-the-court interactions with Ainge, who was friendly with both stars and became their floor conduit.
When Bird wanted McHale to do something, instead of approaching him and barking out instructions like he did with his other teammates, he'd motion Ainge over and say, "Tell Kevin to set a high screen for D.J., then roll