“We were a mixture of the old and the new, both in experience and style of play. The long jump shot was just catching on in the league and practically none of our players used it.”
Kerner comes to a basketball game looking, fittingly, likes the best-dressed man in the hall. He leaves looking more like Emmett Kelly, the clown.
It brought back memories of Auerbach’s Celtic battlers of the past, of Russell breaking Jim Krebs’ jaw, of Loscutoff decking Dick Schnittker with one punch, and of Brannum flattening Dolph Schayes.
Heed those words, Red. Sit back, light up a cigar and relax. You don’t need the aggravation anymore.
What made Sharman’s shooting so remarkable was its purity. He shot with almost robot-like precision, his style so polished and precise that it seemed like an illustration for a book on how to play basketball.
From that day on, William Felton Russell made everyone an imitator.
Today, Cousy is the hottest thing in basketball, a ballhandler who does unbelievable things with a pair of unbelievably big hands with which he manipulates a basketball as if it were a ping-pong ball.
That Arizin has turned into a full-fledged star is no surprise around his hometown of Philadelphia.
Nobody was ever sure what made Martin great. He was too small to cope with the huge stars of the game, yet he often played them to a standstill.
But things have been happening in Baltimore lately. Pro Football came back for another try. Major league baseball returned after an absence of half a century. And a 53-year-old gentleman with squinting eyes and an athlete’s shuffle came to town.