Monday’s announcement that Bill Walton had died at age 71 after a long battle with cancer obviously came as no surprise to the NBA community, but it came as a shock to San Diego residents who were unaware of his illness. Born in La Mesa in 1952 and living here his whole life, Walton had been a part of the community since the late 1960s, when he emerged as a basketball phenom at Helix High School.
Walton’s basketball talents continued at UCLA, where he became the school’s greatest player of all time, winning two NCAA titles. A slender 6-foot-11, 20-year-old, he led the school in perhaps its greatest championship win of all time, against Memphis State in 1973, finishing with 44 points, 13 rebounds and seven blocks on 21-of-22 shooting.
When healthy, his incredible run continued in the NBA, winning one NBA title each with Portland and Boston and earning an MVP honor with the Trail Blazers. During his brief prime in his mid-20s, he was one of the most dominant defensive players in history, drawing praise from Bill Russell, the NBA’s greatest defender of all time. In 1985-86, after finally recovering from a chronic foot injury, he was arguably the best sixth man of all time on the best Celtics team of all time. And until the recent emergence of three-time MVP Nikola Jokic with Denver, Walton was considered the best passing center of all time.
When NBA historian Bill Simmons published his sprawling, encyclopedic The Book of Basketball in 2009, it was hard to put into words how the final page depicted Simmons traveling to San Diego to meet with Walton and tell him he was one of the few superstar players who understood the game’s “secret.” Despite all the focus on individual greatness, the key to team success is the magic that comes from collective altruism.
But Walton also had a vibrant presence off the basketball court: as an anti-Vietnam War activist during his time at UCLA, as an eccentric but often captivating television basketball commentator, as a huge fan of bands including the Grateful Dead, and as a local activist with strong, sometimes controversial views on San Diego issues, especially those related to his beloved Balboa Park.
Sadly, Walton is already being remembered in an abbreviated form. This was the opening headline of his New York Times obituary: “Bill Walton, One of Basketball’s Most Eccentric Characters, Dies at 71.” Walton deserved much better than having the adjective “eccentric” used solely in the headline about his death in the world’s most influential publication.
Simmons ends the book on a more fitting note, one of sadness for the devastation Walton’s “amputation” caused not only in his NBA career but also in his post-retirement life, but also of solace in the fact that Walton has come to terms with all the “what ifs” of his career and has learned to live with chronic pain.
So should we. Bill Walton was an amazing, special, unique person. Our condolences go out to his family and all those who were close to him. He was, is and will always be a San Diego person.
