Chamberlain’s 100th point came with 46 seconds remaining when he outleaped two defenders to spare a lob pass from Joe Rucklick and slam it through the net. Then all Hades broke loose.
Tag Archives: New York Knicks
Red Holzman: The Plainest Man in the World, 1970
And after, when Red had finished hurling wonderfully descriptive expletives at the officials, when he had talked to the reporters who cluster in ever-increasing numbers these days, he went to Russell’s near the Cadillac Hotel with a few friends. Russell’s is a late-night steak place.
Abracadabra, Kalamazoo: The Magic of Jerry Lucas, 1973
“My ambition,” says Luke the Great, “is to become the best-known magician in the country. I’ve made a thorough study of magic, I can do anything in magic.”
Stan Stutz: The 1940s King of the Running One-Hander
One of the things that impressed me was the wild, one-handed shooting of Stan Stutz, “who had that sallow complexion and would comb his light hair straight back and take one-handers from all over the court.”
A Belated Cheer for Ray Felix, 1987
The Knicks were playing the old Philadelphia Warriors, whose star was Wilt Chamberlain. And it was Ray’s job, at least when he was in the game, to guard him. He did his best, I’m sure, but it wasn’t close to good enough.
Bill Cartwright: Is He Mean Enough to Make It Big? 1980
Veterans do not like being outplayed by rookies, and they will do whatever they can—within the rules or without—to gain an advantage. Cartwright had the additional problem of being labeled, “a very nice guy.”
Dick and Tom Van Arsdale: Two of a Kind, 1971
The only major difference between them on the court now is that Tom plays forward and Dick is a guard.
Brooklyn’s Finest: Bernard and Albert King, 1984
By all accounts, Albert is still the polite, gracious kid he always was. The pros haven’t changed him one iota. The same isn’t true for Bernard. He’s changed dramatically.
Michael Ray Richardson: With Sugar on Top, 1981
“When I first came into the league, I thought everyone was Superman. I was shaky, but during the summer, I began to realize that the players are good and that I belonged here.”
Mike Riordan: Bags on the Run, 1973
For the next year, during the 1968–69 season, Mike’s uniform stayed clean and dry; mostly, he just mastered the art of giving fouls, an art now extinct, killed by a rule change.
From Way Downtown 