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. 

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.”

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.

Willis Reed: The Art & Agony of a Gentle Giant, 1973

Willis Reed was past 30 now, and in the compressed lifespan of athletics that is to be past middle-age. It is a time when the body begins to betray its promises of youth, a time when the infinite resilience and boundless energy start to become less dependable certainties.