Who Stole My Bike?!!

Discussion in 'Portland Trail Blazers' started by ABM, Aug 20, 2019.

  1. Hoopguru

    Hoopguru Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2014
    Messages:
    19,588
    Likes Received:
    16,197
    Trophy Points:
    113
    I was able to talk to him once and he loved the way UNLV played and was hoping we get shot a Reggie Thieus because he loved his passing ability. Also, Art Gilmore was the touhest center he played against because of his amazing strength.
     
    riverman likes this.
  2. ABM

    ABM Happily Married In Music City, USA!

    Joined:
    Sep 12, 2008
    Messages:
    31,865
    Likes Received:
    5,783
    Trophy Points:
    113
    Occupation:
    Commercial Real Estate
    Location:
    Nashville, TN
    https://theathletic.com/1163110/201...dding-another-chapter-in-a-long-strange-trip/

    Bill Walton and Portland went on a bike ride, adding another chapter in a long, strange trip



    [​IMG]

    Regret has a way of burrowing into a soul, and after 42 years, it had reached Stuart Levy’s core, prompting him to get on his bike Sunday and ride to see Bill Walton.

    Levy had harbored this regret ever since that sun-splashed day in June 1977, when people flooded downtown Portland to celebrate the Trail Blazers’ NBA title. They held signs, waved newspapers, and some climbed light posts to get a glimpse at the cavalcade of stars parading down Broadway: Coach Jack Ramsay … the enforcer Maurice Lucas … the stylish point guard Lionel Hollins … and the greatest star of them all, the big red-head, Walton.

    Levy that day was across the Willamette River in Sellwood, working at a mental health clinic, kicking himself for not taking the day off. Six months prior, he had moved to Portland from New York, and once he saw the beauty and elegance of the Blazers’ ball movement and shot making, he instantly transformed from a Knicks fan to the growing legion of Blazermaniacs.

    His pangs of regret would only grow deeper throughout the years. Walton’s health and the Blazers’ core would soon crumble, and even though Clyde Drexler and Company would later come close, Portland never saw a day like June 6, 1977 again, a fact that seemingly taunted Levy when he would dine at Laurelhurst Market, whose bar features an expansive picture of the championship parade.

    So that’s how it came to be that Levy, now a licensed clinical social worker and firmly entrenched in Portland, found himself amid a sea of bicycles Sunday. The Blazers next month will begin their 50th season in the NBA, and Walton flew in from San Diego to kick off the festivities by leading a bike ride that simulated the parade route of that unforgettable Monday in June 1977.

    Thousands showed up, so much so that riders were forced to abandon their bike seats and walk long stretches of the route, the risk of a crash too great amid the congestion of tires and pedals. Some wore Walton retro jerseys. Others tie-dye shirts reflecting Walton’s affinity for the Grateful Dead. There were Blazers’ flags, and jerseys of the latest iteration of titles hopes — Damian Lillard and CJ McCollum.

    As Walton led the way from the now vacant Memorial Coliseum, where the Blazers in Game 6 defeated Julius Erving and the Philadelphia 76ers to clinch the title, a man rode with large speakers in tow, blaring The Dead’s “Ramble on Rose.”

    There was significance to Sunday’s ride: Walton often biked to games, and he famously had his bike taken on the day of the 1977 parade, ultimately asking the crowd at the parade’s finish at Terry Schrunk Plaza to please return it.

    And there was significance to Walton being the one who kicked off what will be a season-long celebration for the Blazers. See, Walton and the franchise did not part ways in good standing in 1979. After winning the finals MVP, Walton would play only one more season in Portland — a season in which he won the NBA’s MVP despite playing only 58 games because of a foot injury. He left embittered, accusing the Blazers’ doctors of malpractice, and feeling he was unfairly criticized by fans for his health issues.

    [​IMG]

    The Blazers this season want to reconnect with their past, rekindle that bond that took hold in 1977, and reach a new set of fans who were perhaps turned off by the franchise’s dark days of player misbehavior and poor play in the early 2000s. The organization is once again stable, led by an iconic backcourt, a beloved coach and some promising youngsters.

    So who better to represent the ups and downs of the franchise, and to promote the promising future than Walton, its most decorated and perhaps most evolved player?

    As Walton notes, he is in roughly the 20th reincarnation of his life. Now 66, he has become a popular television analyst and, more than anything, an overflowing optimist who wants to spread peace, love and harmony.

    “I get a kick out of him,” Levy said shortly after Walton autographed his Blazers t-shirt. “There is no one like him. My friends think he is a caricature of himself, but I still think he has things to say.”

    That’s why the Blazers’ franchise has come to embrace Walton so lovingly. Because behind his over-the-top oration, there is a message: Wounds can be healed. Differences can be bridged. And regret can be freed.

    Yes, Bill Walton and Portland went on a bike ride Sunday, adding another chapter to what has been a long, strange trip in Blazers’ history.

    Ten years ago, as Walton descended into Portland, he said he had tears flowing down his cheeks as he looked out the plane window. He was back in town to receive an award from the governor, and to attend a fundraiser for the Trail Blazers, but before the plane touched down, he had become overwhelmed with emotion.

    It was a moment of self-reflection: He thought of the glorious run of 1977, when he said he played the best basketball of his life, and the tumultuous aftermath when his body eroded and his accusations and mistrust mounted, leading to an ugly breakup in 1979.

    All the words he said, all the things he did …

    “It was very sad,” Walton said Sunday. “I always try to self reflect, and when you are living a life that is on stage, on camera, out in front, the minute it gets quiet, that’s when all the true answers come to you. When you have that first moment, when you first stop — from the show, the stage, out in front there — all the things you should have said, the things you should have done, that’s when it comes, when it’s too late.”

    At that time, in 2009, his moment off the stage had been more than two years. No television, no radio, no appearances of any kind. It’s because Walton said he was contemplating suicide. Consumed by debilitating back pain, and exhausted with efforts to alleviate it, Walton had reached his nadir.

    “I had been in the hospital, on my death bed, wanting to kill myself. For years,” Walton said. “But my wife (Lori) wouldn’t let me be alone. She knew. The doctors knew. I was in a terrible spot.”

    Eventually, he had a spinal fusion in February 2009, and it did more than ease his pain. It reshaped his outlook.

    “When you face death, it changes you,” Walton said. “And you are never the same again.”

    So in that 2009 visit to Portland, after he wiped away the tears, he mended old wounds.

    “I’m here to try and make amends for the mistakes and errors of the past,” Walton told reporters then. “I regret that I wasn’t a better person. A better player. I regret that I got hurt. I regret the circumstances in which I left the Portland Trail Blazers family. I just wish I could do a lot of things over, but I can’t.”

    He would later play for the Clippers and the Celtics, winning his second NBA title in Boston, in 1986, when he was the NBA’s Sixth Man of the Year. But he says he will always consider himself a Blazer above all.

    “The people of Oregon, the Blazers, have been nicer to me than I deserve,” Walton said. “Nobody has made more mistakes. Nobody has done more wrong than me. But they were never conscious decisions of, ‘OK, I’m going to do the wrong thing.’ At the time, I thought it was the right thing. That’s called life.”

    [​IMG]

    Truth be told, Portland has long ago forgiven Walton. He is a symbol of success, and the perfect mascot for a city that proudly promotes a motto of Keep Portland Weird. He’s the groovy grand dad who connects us to a time when life was simpler, to a time when you not only rooted for players on your team, you sometimes rode bikes with them.

    When Bill Walton woke up on June 6, 1977, he was in downtown Portland, in the penthouse apartment of teammate Lionel Hollins. He remembered he had been out on the town with teammate Maurice Lucas, celebrating winning the NBA title they had won the night before.

    “I can’t speak for Maurice, but I know … well, I think … I slept at Lionel’s house that night,” Walton said. “I didn’t have a telephone and I don’t know how we communicated in those days, but somehow I ended up at Lionel’s place laaaaaate.”

    As Walton shook off the cobwebs, Hollins reminded him there was a parade that day.

    “Today?” Walton remembers asking.

    Walton said he walked and hitchhiked to his house on Kearney Street, in Northwest Portland, just west off 23rd. When he got to his house, he didn’t change, he didn’t eat, he didn’t shower. He simply grabbed his bike and headed to Union Station, where the parade was to start. And so began one of the lasting tales of the Blazers’ championship parade.

    As Walton neared the train station, there was a sea of people.

    “It was like riding to a Grateful Dead concert,” he remembered. “There were just so many people. No cars, just packed with people. I couldn’t ride anymore, and people were grabbing, touching, and I got separated from my bike. You know, it was the greatest, happiest celebration of joy and fun, but my bike was going one way, and I was going the other way and there was nothing I could do about it.”

    He had long had an infatuation with bikes, ever since receiving his first one at age 5, setting a course for what would largely be a solitary lifestyle.

    “As a kid I had my bike, my skateboard, which I built myself, a transistor radio, and my mom was a librarian, so I would always have a stack of books,” Walton said. “All those things, you do by yourself. So over the course of my life, it has turned out that most of the things I enjoy doing are by myself.”

    Bikes became the tool to expand Walton’s imagination.

    “It was an immediate flash of inspiration,” he said of getting his first bike. “This was freedom, empowerment, and enabled me to go where I wanted to go.”

    That stuck with him even when he was the No. 1 overall pick by Portland in 1974 out of UCLA. Walton said he would often ride his bike to home games, and he often made trips to the Oregon Coast, a fact captured in Don Zavin’s documentary on the title season, “Fast Break.”

    “The bicycle is the greatest machine ever invented,” he said.

    So by the time the 1977 championship parade had ended in front of city hall, and it came time for speeches, Walton had one thing on his mind: his bike. He grabbed the microphone and made a plea to get his bike back.

    “It was the bike I rode all the time, I rode it to games, and when I got to the end of the parade, it dawned on me that I didn’t have a way home,” Walton said.

    Three days later, Walton said the bike was returned.

    He said he eventually gave the bike to his oldest son, Adam.

    “I hope he still has it,” Walton said.

    On Sunday, Walton rode a different bike — a custom made Bill Holland bike, complete with Grateful Dead artwork on the gooseneck — which was flown in from San Diego.

    Before riding with the public, Walton and Lori met old friend Roger Goldingay, a former Portland Timbers soccer player, and they toured Walton’s old stomping grounds: Wallace Park and his former homes in Northwest Portland.

    Walton not only lived in the heart of Portland, but he was also part of Portland, often hanging out at Wallace Park, which was two blocks from his home. During the championship parade, he wore a t-shirt that had simple, green lettering that read Wallace Park.

    “That shirt sits in a museum,” Walton said. “Wallace Park is just the coolest neighborhood park. I’m a park guy, an outdoors guy, and that’s where we went.”

    One year, when he broke his hand during the Blazers’ season, he took up playing soccer with the Timbers, then of the now-defunct North American Soccer League, often playing at Wallace Park.

    “We would have pickup games constantly, literally every day, late into the day until it got too dark,” Walton said. “And then we would move into the city, and the restaurants, lounges, bars …”

    Goldingay said they would stick Walton at midfield and lob the ball into him.

    “Boom,” Goldingay said while mimicking a header. “He was really good. And I remember him saying basketball was easier after playing soccer, because he could use his hands.”

    Wallace Park was Walton — open, free, outdoorsy and welcoming.

    “Basketball, frisbee, dogs, children, flowers, and music,” Walton said. “Bands would show up …”

    When he returned from his morning ride Sunday, there were responsibilities at hand. Recording spots that will be replayed on the scoreboard throughout the season, signing memorabilia and meeting the media.

    He was in classic Walton form, an unmistakable force of hyperbole and hype, more than occasionally drifting so far off course it was humorous. A response to a question about what makes the Blazers a special franchise eventually drifted into Walton waxing about pride, loyalty and gratitude.

    “Gratitude, let’s salute all the players, all the people who have gone before us, and let’s go back all the way to Lewis & Clark, let’s go back to Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce Indians,” Walton said, beginning to lose steam. “And let’s go back to what makes this region, this community, this city of Portland and state of Oregon so special. Wow. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

    He was just getting warmed up.

    After he entered the crowd gathered at the front of Memorial Coliseum, signing autographs and taking pictures, it was time for the ride. But first, he stood with a microphone and rattled off what he called “random thoughts” which were a collection of Grateful Dead lyrics, woven into a Waltonesque soliloquy.

    “When you get confused, ride your bike and let the music play … we used to play for silver, now we play for life … once in a while you get shown the light in the strangest places if you are looking at it right … I used to be a lost sailor away too long at sea, now I’m a saint of circumstance, now I’m a tiger in a trance and I’m riding my bike in the streets of Portland, Oregon … The first days are the hardest days, don’t worry about it, no … When life looks like easy street, there is danger at your door … What I want to know if can you ride your bike, are you kind and will you come with us? Here we go. It all rolls into one, but nothing comes for free. Think all good thoughts and be kind, be that human solar panel and absorb all the energy and then turn it right back out. Here we go Oregon. Here we go Blazers. We are just getting started around here.”

    And then, he rode, thousands following him.

    [​IMG]

    When he arrived at the park in front of city hall, back where he once asked for his bike to be returned, it was hard to think of a time when Walton and the Blazers had lost their way with each other.

    The sun was out, the Garcia Birthday Band — a Grateful Dead themed band — was setting up, and nothing ever seemed more Portland. Walton was smiling, he was philosophizing and he was uniting. And as Levy stood in the crowd, his shirt freshly autographed, it was if all regret had been washed from past days.

    “Just like with the Blazers, just like with anything good and cool, it’s about interaction,” Walton told the crowd. “The fans, the players, the musicians … so whatever you do, don’t lose your bike today, but it’s ok to lose your train of thought when the music starts playing.”

    And then Bill Walton took two drumsticks and joined the band. And the music never stopped.
     
    illmatic99 and riverman like this.
  3. ABM

    ABM Happily Married In Music City, USA!

    Joined:
    Sep 12, 2008
    Messages:
    31,865
    Likes Received:
    5,783
    Trophy Points:
    113
    Occupation:
    Commercial Real Estate
    Location:
    Nashville, TN
  4. riverman

    riverman Writing Team

    Joined:
    Nov 15, 2013
    Messages:
    66,303
    Likes Received:
    64,441
    Trophy Points:
    113
    Best Quick article I've read yet.....props..I'm starting to become a fan of his work since he's writing for the athletic
     
    kjironman1 and ABM like this.
  5. ABM

    ABM Happily Married In Music City, USA!

    Joined:
    Sep 12, 2008
    Messages:
    31,865
    Likes Received:
    5,783
    Trophy Points:
    113
    Occupation:
    Commercial Real Estate
    Location:
    Nashville, TN
    I agree.
     
    kjironman1 likes this.
  6. ABM

    ABM Happily Married In Music City, USA!

    Joined:
    Sep 12, 2008
    Messages:
    31,865
    Likes Received:
    5,783
    Trophy Points:
    113
    Occupation:
    Commercial Real Estate
    Location:
    Nashville, TN

Share This Page