Maclean's Interview: Bill Russell

Q: But I would have thought of the Hall of Fame as a shrine to the game.

A: I don’t think so.

Q: Your new book is called Red and Me: My Coach, My Lifelong Friend. Why did you write it?

A: To celebrate a friendship. Red Auerbach was my coach [in Boston], but he never told me how to play. And, conversely, I never told him how to coach, you know? This friendship developed over years, because when I got to Boston my relationship with my coaches after high school was not all that positive, and so I expected an adversarial relationship. But fortunately for me the coach I encountered in Boston was results-oriented. All he cared about was results, and not how it looked, as contrast to my college coach. My very first college game was against Cal-Berkeley, and the centre was pre-season all-American. I blocked the first five shots he took. So they called time out because they had never seen anything like that. This was something new to the game. We go in a huddle, and my coach says to me, “You can’t play defence like that. That’s not the way to play defence,” and he showed me how he thought I should play. So I go out and I try it, and the guy shoots three layups in a row. And he says that’s the way you play defence. We argued for three years, and he never accepted that I was a good player.

Q: Even when you won 55 games in a row?

A: Right. I get to Boston and Red is totally results-oriented, so at the end of my rookie year he says to me, “You’re the best player, and I want you to know it. But, I must confess, I don’t know what you’re doing, and I can’t help you. What I will do is I’ll watch you play and see what you’re doing, and as soon as I’ve figured it out I’ll put that in as part of the system.” As a consequence I was second on the team in assists for 12 straight years.

Q: Results-oriented.

A: Yeah. He coached in the NBA for 20 years. At the end of 19 years he had never been coach of the year.

Q: You’re kidding.

A: The only time he was coach of the year was in his last year. It was almost like a life-time achievement award. And so we both knew, early, that neither of us would really get current acclaim. Both of us had concluded the only important thing for our self-satisfaction was to win as many games as possible and let results be results and not care about what other people thought.

Q: I’m curious about the two seasons when you didn’t win a championship. What went wrong?

A: The first time I got hurt in the championship series, but I never used that as an excuse. Injuries are as much a part of play-offs as free throws. You start saying “woulda coulda,” and to me the only thing that matters is what happened.

Q: Tell me about the second season you didn’t win a championship. It was your first as a player-coach.

A: Yeah, and we got our butts kicked. A better team beat us that year.

Q: Your book talks a lot about male friendship. You thought your intense competitiveness made it difficult for you to have friendships. Are you competitive about everything?

A: No. When I was playing I was, extraordinarily so. But after I retired I was a vegetarian for a couple years, and it’s probably silly but I thought carnivores were very competitive. I thought if I was vegetarian, I would be more co-operative than competitive.

Q: Did it work?

A: Yes, and I was better able to exercise friendship.

Q: Do you regret not starting sooner?

A: No. I don’t have very many regrets, not because I lived a perfect life but because life is a bunch of rolling hills, not mountains, or speed bumps instead of stop signs, and so you come to a situation and it’s neither good or bad, it just is, and what it means to you is what’s your take on it. But the second part of the equation is what are you going to do about it. A lot of times I’m completely wrong, but all you do is back up and start over.