Paying homage to Red

A sports legend passed away last night.

When I saw the news, I made a decision. I wouldn't weep, I wouldn't sit staring blankly outside. I would go out the front door of my residence, into the sunny, 63-degree Sunday afternoon. I would pass by Victoria Park, filled on this day with dogs running loose and sunbathers basking. I would cross Cleveland Street, cut through a few buildings, and make my way to the Sydney University Aquatic Center.

There, on the wooden basketball courts, I would pay homage to possibly the greatest NBA coach of all time, Red Auerbach.

I decided to shoot 100 free throws for Red, aiming to make 89 - his age at death. It was a lofty goal, but on this day my shooting hand felt blessed. It was as if each flick of the wrist was empowered by a divine force.

I was on fire.

I dedicated each set of 10 free throws to a championship won by Red as the Celtics coach. 1957, 1959, 1960, 1961, 1962, 1963, 1964, 1965, 1966. The final 10 I dedicated to Red's decision, upon his retirement from coaching in 1967 before he was 50 years old. He turned the team over to his star center, Bill Russell, who became the NBA’s first black coach.

Of course Red never said so, but I think he had some more coaching in him. He didn’t step down because his tank was empty. He did it to give Russell the opportunity. His star didn’t let him down, winning titles in ’68 and ’69 – paving the way for more black men to become head coaches.

Midway through, I was 43-for-50 – almost on pace to hit 89. I was in a zone. I didn’t feel like someone who hadn’t touched a basketball in three months. I felt like Bob Cousy, or Bill Sharman, or KC Jones – a few of the great guards Red was able to lure to Boston during his coaching days.

Who will ever forget how Red said he’d never draft Cousy, but ended up with him anyway? After the point guard began to direct the Celtics franchise in the right direction, Red warmed up to him and they’ll live together forever in Celtics lore.

Unfortunately, I hit a rough streak in the 60s, and ended up seven free throws short of my goal – 82 for 100. But it didn’t matter.

I felt that I had done my part to honor a legend, to honor a man who took pride in being a players’ coach, a man who as GM of the Celtics after his playing days gave the coaching job to five former players. A man who didn’t forget who helped him be so successful.

Even as the Celtics struggled the last two decades, Red never turned his back on the franchise. Even when narcissistic Rick Pitino demanded Red's GM title when he became coach in the late ‘90s.

Red was always there, giving advice to anyone who asked, acting a father figure to many.

The Celtics are dedicating the upcoming season to Red. There are not high hopes in Boston, as has been the case for most of the past decade. But maybe, just maybe, the players will feel the same way I did this afternoon.

Maybe when Paul Pierce flicks his beautifully arching shot, it’ll go in 55 percent of the time instead of 45 percent. Maybe Boston’s talented but immature youngsters – Kendrick Perkins and Sebastian Telfair, to name a pair – will grow into their shoes, realizing who’s looking down on them.

It’s amazing how you can be touched by history. A lot of my life I’ve been stuck in the present. I’ve watched in awe as Tiger Woods dominates the PGA Tour without knowing the names of the black men who made it possible for him to play on tour. I’ve enjoyed the great tradition of Michigan football without knowing the men who made the program one of the nation’s best.

But now I do pay attention to history. When a team wins a championship, I think about how they made it to the top. And, of course, when a man like Red Auerbach dies, I don’t shake my head nonchalantly and move on.

I dedicate a beautiful afternoon to his life. Because I know who he was.