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HoopersParadise, Los Angeles, CA (2026)

09/26/2026

Wilt Chamberlain Said Nobody Has the Guts to Knock Michael Jordan Down When He Drives the Lane. He Called It Blasphemous. Then Said He Would Play Jordan Like Moses Played God.

Wilt Chamberlain wrote about Michael Jordan's untouchable status in Who's Running the Asylum and the argument he made about why nobody ever stopped Jordan in the lane was one of the most provocative and honest basketball observations anyone put on paper during the Jordan era.

He acknowledged what Jordan was before making his case about what nobody was willing to do about it.

"I have never seen an athlete as revered as MJ. He is idolized by everyone, friend and foe alike. No matter whether it's golf, basketball or talking s**t, MJ gives it his all. I've met a number of players who think they could be as talented as Michael Jordan, but believe me, they have neither MJ's fortitude or his commitment."

Then came the question that framed the entire problem.

"How does a mere mortal guard a deity?"

The answer was not physical. It was psychological. Respect for Jordan had crossed into something that resembled religious deference on the basketball court.

"Respect for Michael's awe-inspiring talent, which is hyped by unbelievable media attention, has placed him in an exalted position that produces a kind of fear response in his opponents. You see, even basketball players know that it's improper, even blasphemous, to take the Lord's name in vain. So you, as a player, damn sure don't want to be the one to knock Him on his Royal Ass. And just in case you are not buying what I am preaching, tell me when you last saw anyone take MJ down when he drove the lane?"

Wilt had a solution.

"So, how would you play the great MJ, Wiltie? I'd play him like Moses did with our real God. I'd meet him at the summit."

The physical reality made the timidity even more inexplicable to him.

"Shaq weighs 330 pounds, but six-foot-seven Jordan weighs only about 197. He is actually rather skinny compared with some of the big boys who are supposed to be covering the middle. So, why don't they hit him? An occasional confrontation would cause Michael to think before driving to the basket the next time."

He pointed to one specific moment that showed what an actual confrontation looked like. Magic Johnson returned from his self-imposed retirement and played the Bulls at the Forum. First drive down the middle. Rodman clotheslined him and almost took his head off.

"That kind of thing never seems to happen to MJ. There almost seems to be an unwritten hands-off rule for him. We all know that Rodman is a little bit crazy, but you can't be timid out there on the court."

Then he gave defenders the only scouting report anyone ever needed on Jordan.

"A defensive player actually has an advantage when guarding Michael, for two reasons. First, the basket doesn't move, so you know where Michael is going. Second, you know for certain that the last thing, the very last thing, that Michael wants to do is pass the ball. You know he's going to shoot it. With those two bits of data tucked away in your memory bank, the advantage is all yours. Or at least it should be."

The basket doesn't move. He is not going to pass it.

Wilt laid out the entire defensive blueprint for stopping Michael Jordan and watched every defender in the league ignore it anyway.

09/26/2026

Wilt Chamberlain Said Dennis Rodman Was Beyond Any Doubt a Supremely Talented Athlete. He Also Said If There Was One Person Who Best Personified the Baddie in Today's Professional Sports It Would Surely Be Rodman.

Wilt Chamberlain wrote about Dennis Rodman in Who's Running the Asylum and the assessment he delivered was exactly what you would expect from the most dominant player in basketball history watching someone squander the privileges that came with elite talent.

He started by acknowledging what Rodman was on the court.

"Dennis is, beyond any doubt, a supremely talented athlete."

Then came everything else.

"But if there is one person who best personifies the 'baddie' in today's professional sports, it would surely be Rodman."

Wilt laid out the specific behaviors that bothered him most. Not warming up with his team before games. The concept of team unity being foreign to him entirely. Taking his shoes and socks off before the game was over and sitting at courtside like he was at a picnic. Removing his shirt while other players got chastised for having their shirt tails out. Paying no attention to coaches or anyone else in authority. Apparently convinced he could do whatever he pleased.

Then came the incident that Wilt refused to let slide. The March 1996 headbutt on an official that earned Rodman a six-game suspension and $225,000 in fines, considered the heaviest penalty in NBA history at the time.

"Was the whole suspension a farce? I think so. Did it hurt the Bulls one iota? I doubt it."

He explained exactly why the punishment was meaningless on every level.

"In the first place, a fine of this sort means next to nothing because no one knows who is going to pay it. Secondly, the six-game suspension he was given came at a time when the Bulls did not need him. They'd had a winning season, the Eastern Conference was already locked up, and they had the home-court advantage as well. Rodman's suspension was, in fact, a blessing in disguise for the Bulls."

His absence gave teammates more playing time to prepare for the playoffs. It gave Rodman's body time to rest. The punishment helped the team it was supposed to hurt.

Wilt had three specific questions for the Commissioner about the whole affair and then delivered his verdict on the league's handling of it.

"The punishment given Rodman amounted to a mere slap on the wrist, and was a cowardly act on the part of the league office. They appeared to be afraid to detract from the glory of the Chicago Bulls, fearing that the Chicago fans would react negatively. Their concern was for the championship and the records."

He also noted that not one Bulls teammate spoke in defense of the official who was headbutted. The team's press release acknowledging they frowned on the actions landed with all the conviction of a statement nobody meant to make.

"This statement sounded about as sincere as if I had publicly proclaimed my love for hot beer."

That was Wilt Chamberlain watching Dennis Rodman in 1996 and finding the whole situation as disappointing as he expected it to be.

09/26/2026

Larry Bird Said Rik Smits Was One of the Nicest People You Would Ever Meet. Then Said That Was the Problem. But He Still Flew Him to Boston to Save His Season.

Larry Bird wrote about toughness and playoff intensity in Bird Watching with a specificity that only someone who competed in those battles could deliver and the observations he made about what separates good teams from championship teams were as honest as anything he ever said publicly.

He had genuine affection for Rik Smits but was honest about what Smits could and could not give his Pacers.

"Rik Smits is like most of the guys on this team, one of the nicest people you'd ever want to be around. Truthfully? That's not what you really want. You want guys who are nasty, who have an edge, that killer instinct."

Smits had played through nerve problems in his feet so severe that stepping on a towel could send pain shooting through his entire body. By January Bird was genuinely concerned Smits would have to retire. He sent him to Dan Dyrek in Boston, the same man who had helped Bird through his own back problems. Dyrek's joint mobilization technique made enough progress that Smits made it through the playoffs.

Reggie Miller had the same nice-guy problem in a different package.

"Reggie is a great late-game shooter. I mean, he loves the pressure. I see how he's progressed the last five years and I'm happy for him, because he's a nice guy. But he's not all that mean either."

Then Bird described exactly why mean matters at the highest level. One specific play. One specific series. One specific moment that changed the entire course of a championship.

"All you need to do is go back to the 1984 Finals, Celtics versus Lakers, when Kevin McHale clotheslined Kurt Rambis as he was heading in for a layup. There's no question in my mind that Kevin didn't mean to do it, but after he did, it turned the whole series around. The Lakers never really liked physical contact, and we got them intimidated after that."

He also laid out the philosophy that the league had operated on for decades and that his Pacers were still trying to fully embrace.

"You need to find somebody who, if your opponent is coming in for a layup, every once in a while is willing to knock him down. That's just the way this league is. Guys don't like to be hit. You get a couple of them on the ground and it makes a difference. Hey, teams used to beat on me all the time. That's why I had so many surgeries."

The team that did it best was never in question.

"Detroit was definitely the best. Rick Mahorn, Bill Laimbeer, and those guys, they took you right out of the game."

Kevin McHale didn't mean to clothesline Kurt Rambis. The Lakers never liked physical contact after that. The Celtics won the 1984 championship.

Sometimes the most important plays in a series are the ones nobody planned.

09/26/2026

Larry Bird Said Mark Jackson Was Not the Most Talented Guy on the Pacers But He Was Their Leader. When Jackson Spoke in the Huddle With Five Minutes Left and They Were Down Four Points You Could See Eyes Getting Bigger. That Was All They Needed.

Larry Bird described what real leadership looked like in Bird Watching and the portrait he drew of Mark Jackson explained exactly why the Indiana Pacers went further than anyone expected them to go.

He walked in with one specific concern before his first season even started. He asked Donnie Walsh who the leader was on the team.

"He said, 'You've got guys who think they are leaders, but they really aren't.'"

After a couple of months the answer became obvious.

"Our leader was Mark Jackson. He wasn't the most talented guy on our team, but guys responded to him. What Mark did was get these guys in the right frame of mind. He was the one who earned their respect. When he was in a huddle and he said, 'Look, we've got five minutes left, and we're down by four points, let's shut them down,' you could see their eyes getting bigger. That was all they needed to hear, sometimes, to get them all fired up."

Bird also described what he told his players about his own role from the very beginning.

"Don't worry about me. I'll handle all the bull. This team should just focus on playing basketball. If you guys want me to lead you, I'll lead you. I can't score any baskets, but I'll have you prepared to score those baskets."

He also talked about the specific things a leader does that cannot be taught in a film session. Cedric Maxwell had once described what Bird himself did when his back was bothering him.

"You can always tell when Larry's back is hurting, because the first thing he'll do at the beginning of the game is dive for a loose ball. He might not get to it, but he'll pop his back, he'll feel better, and he'll take care of any ideas that he's not ready to go."

Bird confirmed it was completely intentional. If he came out and it was obvious he was favoring his back the whole team would register it and adjust their expectations downward. The dive for the loose ball reset everything.

"Anytime I went down for a loose ball, and a mess of guys ended up diving for it, our team always got fired up by that. Hey, I got fired up by it."

He watched that same energy spread to Rik Smits. A center who never used to dive for loose balls who by the end of Bird's tenure was flying all over the court.

His approach in the huddle was always the same. Calm. Certain. No panic.

"We'd be down a few points and I'd say, 'Look guys, don't get frustrated. We've got plenty of time left out there, let's use it to our advantage. We're not out of this game. We're gonna win this game.' I'd say it real calm, like I knew what I was talking about, and they'd go out there and come back, and we'd win the game, and they'd be in the locker room afterward saying, 'Man! We really can do this!'"

Mark Jackson reminded him of Dennis Johnson. The way he got the ball and knew what was going on at all times. The willingness to step up and nail the big shot even after missing the last ten in a row.

"He keeps plugging and plugging. He reminds me a little of myself in that way."

Eyes getting bigger in the huddle with five minutes left. That was always the whole Mark Jackson. And Bird recognized it before anyone else in that building did.

09/26/2026

Larry Bird Said He Could Figure Out Every Player on His Roster in One Month. Danny Ainge Hired a Brainwave Reader. Bird Thought He Had Lost His Mind.

Larry Bird described his coaching philosophy on team dynamics in Bird Watching and the chapter produced some of the most honest and entertaining observations he ever put on paper about what makes a group of professional basketball players actually work together.

He started with the principle he had already committed to publicly and would not budge from.

"No coach should stay in one place longer than three years. You stay longer than that and you get stale. The players don't listen as closely."

He acknowledged people had asked if he would go to another city and coach again after Indiana. He couldn't see it. The reason was specific.

"I've got the best group of guys in Indiana. If I had one or two guys who didn't care about winning, it wouldn't make it worthwhile for me. I'm just lucky I have this collection of players who really want it. Too often these days it seems the NBA has a group of guys with too much going on. That's what people don't realize. If one guy is off, it can affect the whole team."

Then came the Tiny Archibald story. A terrific player from his Celtics days who you simply never knew which version was showing up from one practice to the next.

"When Tiny was in a really good mood, we'd all say, 'Hey, let's live it up! Tiny is happy today.' And when he wasn't, we just tried to get through that practice and get out of there."

Danny Ainge called him in the spring to tell him about a person he had hired for the Phoenix Suns who could read facial expressions and brainwaves and determine leadership potential through a formula. Bird listened to the whole pitch.

"I'm sitting there listening and thinking, 'This guy has lost his mind.' I was laughing my butt off."

Then Ainge told him what the formula said about Bird specifically.

"He said, 'Larry, you are an intense, high-personality guy, a lot of serial killers have the same profile as you.' I said, 'Yeah, Danny, I ought to kill you for saying that.'"

The Pacers had inherited a psychiatrist from Jack Ramsay's era who had been administering personality tests to players since 1988 trying to identify leaders. Bird had one specific response to the whole arrangement.

"After one month with these guys I'm going to know every one of them. We're wasting our money on this guy."

His actual evaluation method was built on something no personality test could measure.

"I've always said you find out more about a player when things are going bad than when things are going good. Anybody can keep it together when you're winning every night."

He also acknowledged the core limitation of what he had in Indiana compared to the great teams he had played on.

"When I looked at our roster, I knew we had some really, really good players, but no one guy who could carry us on his back night after night. Those guys, like Jordan, are rare. So for much of the early part of the year, my guys pooled from each other. That's how they managed, by feeding off one another."

A serial killer profile. A psychiatrist on the payroll he thought was a waste of money. A team with no Jordan who fed off each other and went to the NBA Finals anyway.

That was always the whole Larry Bird.

09/26/2026

Larry Bird Ran Three Miles Before His Workout Every Morning of His Entire Career. Just to Loosen Up. Then Did 500 Sit-Ups. Then Ballhandling Drills. Then Shooting. Then Wind Sprints. Then Lifted Weights. Then Rode His Bike Eleven Miles Through Town. Then Played Basketball for Two Hours.

Larry Bird described his offseason training routine in Bird Watching and the sheer volume of what he did every single day in French Lick Indiana explained why he could play through bone spurs and back problems and a broken hand and everything else his body threw at him for thirteen seasons.

He started every morning with two or three miles of running just to loosen up. Then he went to his old high school gym at Springs Valley.

"I'd do my sit-ups, which meant anywhere from 300 to 500 of them. Then I'd start working on the court on ballhandling drills, and start my shooting, and then do some su***de wind sprints, and then mix it all in together. Then I'd go lift weights. A lot of times I'd get on my bike and ride through town. I always rode a loop around Route 145, and it was about eleven and three-quarter miles, and I'd always try to make it back home in forty-three minutes. That was always a good pace."

Three miles to loosen up. 500 sit-ups. Ballhandling. Shooting. Wind sprints. Weights. Eleven miles on the bike. Before touching a basketball for the actual basketball portion of the day.

Once the back problems became serious Dan Dyrek built him a specific program that Bird described with complete honesty.

"It was about the worst thing I've ever done in my life."

Dyrek had him alternating distance runs with sprints while still insisting on doing his three miles first because he felt he needed it to get loose. The lifting program took two hours just to finish. Three sets of twelve on every exercise. Then came the drill that nearly broke him.

"I'd be on a stationary bike, and I'd take ten-pound weights, and ride the bike, and alternate lifting these things over my head while I'm trying to keep my form. I'd do that for five minutes and I'd be dying. Then I'd get off the bike and jump rope real fast for two minutes, then hop back on the stationary bike and start over. Dan had me do that three times in one set. That was one of the hardest things I've ever done."

After all of that he would run 440-yard dashes trying to finish each one in seventy-five seconds or less.

"After everything else I had already done, that seemed easy."

Then he went to play basketball. Usually another hour and a half to two hours. He never scrimmaged because there weren't enough people in French Lick to choose from, so he concentrated on drills alone.

At the end of every summer he ran the hill. About a mile from bottom to top with the first quarter-mile going straight up with no leveling off.

"I bet Dinah and my friend Corky twenty dollars they couldn't make it to the top. Corky barely made it, and Dinah didn't make it."

He took Brad Lohaus up the hill a couple of times. Lohaus would start right next to him running slow because the hill demanded it. Then you would see him start falling back. Then falling back more. By the end they were barely moving and Bird was still way out in front.

Three miles just to loosen up. Five hundred sit-ups. Eleven miles on a bike. The hill that beat everyone who tried it.

Then he played basketball for two hours.

That was always the whole Larry Bird offseason.

09/25/2026

Larry Bird Said By Wednesday or Thursday the Food Was Gone and There Was No Money to Buy More. They Were Down to Peanut Butter and Bread. He Never Forgot That. Some Teammates Made Far Less Than Him and Bought 700 Thousand Dollar Homes and Rolex Watches. He Told Them They Were Crazy.

Larry Bird wrote about money and growing up without it in Bird Watching and the honesty of what he put on paper explained everything about who he was and why he stayed that way even when the NBA money made it possible to become someone completely different.

He never took for granted that anyone would pay to watch him play. Not for a single day of his career.

"I would never have dreamed, when I was a kid, that anyone would pay money to watch me do anything. And no matter how much money I ever have, I'll never take it for granted."

The reason ran all the way back to French Lick and a grocery run that would fill five shopping carts on Monday and be completely gone by Thursday.

"We had six kids in our family, and my mom always took a couple of us to the store with her, because she always had to get about five shopping carts full of stuff. You'd see all this food coming into the house on Monday, gallons of milk and bags of groceries, and you'd think, 'This is going to last us a year.' But by Wednesday or Thursday it was all gone, and there was no money to buy new food. We'd be down to peanut butter and bread."

He carried that memory into every financial decision he ever made. When the NBA money came he bought a nice little house in the French Lick and West Baden area for $125,000. Not a Mercedes. Not a million-dollar home.

"We didn't run out and spend all our money because we knew there would be a time when it was over, and I wanted to have options on what we could do with our future."

Some teammates making far less than him bought the $700,000 homes and the Rolex watches and the luxury cars. Bird told them directly what he thought.

"You're crazy, you should be saving your money."

They laughed at him. Made jokes about him stashing money away. He watched them do it and saw exactly where it was going.

"So many of them were living for today, and not even stopping for a minute to think about ten years down the road, when their playing careers were over and the money stopped pouring in. And by the time they realized what I was telling them was true, it was too late."

The most painful part came after the careers ended.

"I can't tell you how many ex-teammates have asked me for money. It's heartbreaking for me to say no, but I do, because I warned them. I told them to save."

He also saw the waste that ran underneath the entire professional sports lifestyle and it never sat right with him. A jeans commercial where boxes and boxes of product would end up in a warehouse or thrown away. All-Star games where four or five pairs of shoes were waiting in your locker and you wore one pair and left the rest lying there.

"How many kids in America could have used those shoes? I would have loved a new pair of sneakers when I was a kid, but we just couldn't afford it. It's hard for me to just forget about that."

Peanut butter and bread by Thursday. A $125,000 house when he could have bought anything. Teammates laughing at him for saving.

Larry Bird never forgot where he came from. That was always the whole story.

09/25/2026

Michael Jordan Had His Own Personal Cooler on the Space Jam Set With a Girl Whose Only Job Was to Protect It. Larry Bird Waited Until She Left and Started Throwing Everything Out to the Crew. Gatorade Bottles. Candy Bars. All Over the Set.

Larry Bird described filming Space Jam in Bird Watching and the story about Michael Jordan's personal cooler is one of the greatest things he ever put on paper.

He didn't even want to go to Los Angeles for the movie. Jill Leone called him and he said no. Then she called back and told him Michael would really appreciate it if he changed his mind. He went.

It was worth it. Most of his scenes were on the golf course with Jordan and Bill Murray who kept every single day interesting. They flew him into Los Angeles and then took him by helicopter to a place in the middle of nowhere that he still can't identify except that it was beautiful and had a great golf course.

The movie people took care of everyone. Big room in the hotel. Food. Drinks. Everything you wanted. One cooler had beer. Another had soda. Another had sandwiches.

And then there was a cooler marked MICHAEL ONLY.

"You weren't supposed to touch that one, because it was all Michael Jordan's special stuff they flew in just for him."

A girl on set had one specific job. Make sure everything was exactly right for Michael Jordan at all times. Bird and Bill Murray were sitting in that room one day and Bird walked over and lifted the lid.

"She starts yelling at me, 'Larry, you can't go in there!' I said, 'What are you talking about? That's bull. Everyone here is family.' She was getting all red and nervous and said, 'No, no. Those are all the things Michael told me he wanted, and if you take something out of there, Michael won't be able to have it, and we just can't let that happen!'"

Bill Murray was laughing the whole time. Because whenever Michael actually walked into the room he went to one of the other coolers and pulled something out just like everyone else. He hardly ever opened his own cooler.

Bird waited until the girl left. Then he reached in and started throwing everything out to the crew. All over the set.

"Gatorade bottles, some special drink he liked, candy bars. She was so mad at me."

For the rest of the shoot every time Bird walked by that cooler he took something out. If he didn't drink or eat it he tossed it to somebody on the set. Candy bars by the handful flying across a Hollywood movie set.

Michael Jordan had a cooler with his name on it and a dedicated employee to protect its contents. Larry Bird waited until she turned her back and distributed everything to the crew.

That was always the whole Larry Bird whether he was in French Lick or on a Hollywood movie set.

09/25/2026

Larry Bird Ate Two Hundred Cheeseburgers Filming His First McDonald's Commercial. It Took Fourteen Hours. He Turned to His Agent and Said Four Hours.From Now On If They Take Any Longer We're Not Doing It.

Larry Bird described his commercial career in Bird Watching with the same directness he brought to everything else and the picture he painted of himself on a film set explained exactly why he was one of the most efficient people in the history of professional basketball regardless of what he was doing.

His first commercial was for 7UP in 1979 his rookie year. He was a little nervous at the start but the shoot went so long that by the time it was over he was just tired. He drank close to two cases of 7UP during the taping.

"When my agent Jill Leone picked me up after filming that ad, I ordered a glass of milk at dinner. I couldn't even look at another 7UP for a long time after that."

The Canon cameras commercial in 1980 produced one of the great Larry Bird stories of his entire career. They wanted a shot of him dunking the basketball and set up a crate for him to stand on. Rick Carlisle was in the commercial with him and had something to say about that arrangement immediately. Bird told the Canon people he didn't need any crate. After doing it about fifty times he understood why they had it there.

"Back then I was dunking on guys all the time. Sometimes I see old footage and I can't believe I could do all those things, because after my heel surgery and two back surgeries I never moved the same again."

The McDonald's commercial was where everything changed. It took fourteen hours. His only job was to say a few lines and bite into a cheeseburger. The producer didn't have much of a problem with how Bird was eating his burger but kept finding something wrong with one of the other actors on almost every take.

"I must have bit into about two hundred burgers before we got it right. They had to keep running back and heating up fresh trays of burgers every time somebody messed up. It would have been funny if I wasn't so irritated at blowing an entire day."

He turned to Jill Leone on set that day and delivered the rule that governed every commercial he made for the rest of his career.

"Four hours. That's it. From now on, if they take any longer than that, we're not doing it."

Jill told him most companies were horrified at the time limit when she first explained it to them. She convinced them he would arrive early and be ready to work. She always sent him the script and storyboard ahead of time so he knew exactly what was expected. It cut out all the schmoozing and chit-chat that he never liked anyway.

"My way of doing business is go in, be organized, move quickly, and get it done. After a while these companies realized it was going to save them a lot of money to do it this way."

Two hundred cheeseburgers to find out he never wanted to waste fourteen hours again. Four hours from that point forward. No exceptions.

That was always the whole Larry Bird whether it was basketball or McDonald's.

09/25/2026

One of the greatest teams of all time: the 1985–86 Boston Celtics.

Assistant coach Jim Rodgers; No. 11 Sam Vincent; No. 34 Rick Carlisle; No. 50 Greg Kite; No. 00 Robert Parish; No. 5 Bill Walton; No. 32 Kevin McHale; No. 45 David Thirdkill; No. 12 Jerry Sichting; assistant coach Chris Ford; No. 44 Danny Ainge; No. 8 Scott Wedman; general manager Jan Volk; president Red Auerbach; head coach K.C. Jones; owner Don Gaston; No. 33 Larry Bird; and No. 3 Dennis Johnson.

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