With a broken heart.
That was the overwhelming feeling that came over me when I received the call that Bill Walton had died at the age of 71. The man who was always larger than life had passed away, and he left a legacy of basketball greatness and a wonderful human being. Bill Walton was a unique person who made everyone he came into contact with feel special and part of his inner circle. He was a generous and generous soul who always put others before himself.
When I was a kid growing up in Southern California, my idol was Bill Walton.
He was, without a doubt, one of the two greatest players in the history of college basketball, along with Kareem Abdul Jabbar, known as Lew Alcindor during his college days, and remains so to this day.
Walton was the most complete center in the game: scoring, rebounding, blocking shots, passing, passing and running the floor. No center was as complete and only Kareem could match Walton's record as a winner and champion. In three seasons at UCLA playing for the legendary John Wooden, Walton's teams were undefeated national champions twice, reached the Final Four three times and compiled a record of 86-4. Walton was a three-time national player of the year and first-team All-American and was recognized as the nation's top amateur athlete. I remember my coaches telling me that Walton was the best center to play this game.
His NBA career was cut short by injury. But when he was healthy, Walton was as dominant as he was at UCLA. In 1976-77, he played in 65 games, leading the Portland Trail Blazers to the NBA championship, making the All-NBA and All-Defensive teams, and was Finals MVP. Injuries would limit his dominance. He finished his career with the Boston Celtics in 1985-86, helping Larry Bird, Kevin McHale and Robert Parish win the title and being named NBA Sixth Man of the Year.
Walton not only overcame an injury-plagued professional career; He overcame a speech impediment to become one of the most entertaining, funny and beloved broadcasters of all time. He was incredibly smart, ridiculously funny, and quick to make fun of you and himself. When everyone would love to hear Bill talk about himself and his rich life in the game, he would never stop asking questions about you and putting the spotlight on others. He was genuinely interested in you.
I had the pleasure (no, the joy) of working with Walton at ESPN. From the Maui games to the Pac-12, or the College Football Title Game MegaCast (where he was dressed as Uncle Sam), Bill not only never disappointed, but always made you smile, just thinking about spending time with the. .
I quickly realized that Walton was a better person than he was a basketball player, and that he was a Naismith Hall of Fame player. Before going on the air, if he tried to talk about what we might find during a broadcast, Bill would raise one of his huge hands and say, “Save it all for the air, Jake.”
He loved calling me Jake, pretending he got my name wrong, and no one loved it more than me: Bill Walton included me in his wild sense of humor.
On a broadcast with Bill and Dave Pasch, Walton waxed poetic about former Kansas coach Ted Owens when he paused his soliloquy to say, “Jake, you're too young to know who Ted Owens is!”
“Of course I know Ted Owens,” I responded. “He recruited me.”
Walton quickly replied, “For what?!” I almost fell out of my chair laughing.
Walton made everything fun. Whether he was detailing the history of the saguaro cactus or the mystical powers of the desert, or quoting the Grateful Dead like scripture, Walton tried to enjoy every minute of his existence and make the existence around him meaningful and unforgettable. .
He was a free spirit, with an endearing eccentricity. But deep down, his goal was to find joy in others. Man, Bill Walton was funny.
For his greatness on the court, Walton carved out a special place in the history of the game that will never be forgotten. As a friend and colleague, Walton had a larger than life spirit. He was a showman. I will always love Bill Walton; He was a national treasure and there will never be another like him.
Rest in peace, Bill.
Love, Jake
