Basketball, character and race relations: Bob Cousy and Bill Russell

One of my daughters got me The Last Pass: Cousy, Russell, and What Matters in the End, by Gary Pomerantz, for Christmas. It's a fine book. If you don't recognize the names of Bob Cousy or Bill Russell, this probably won't interest you. But I did recognize them. Cousy and Russell were parts of what arguably was the greatest dynasty in professional sports -- the Boston Celtics, who won 11 NBA championships while one or both of these men were on the team, from 1956-1969. (They have won more since then.) Russell was part of all of these 11 championship teams. Cousy retired in 1963. Both men are still alive. Cousy is 90, and, apparently, still has a good mind -- much of the book was based on interviews with him by the author. Russell is 84, and perhaps not sound mentally -- Pomerantz says that his children went to court to get control of his finances.

Cousy was noted for his passing skills. See here for a brief video of Cousy in action. (Russell was number 6 for the Celtics, and many of Cousy's passes went to him.) Thus the title.

The main theme of the book is the relationship between the two stars. Clearly, they respected each other, and played well together. But Russell was stand-offish, to his team, reporters, and fans (he almost never gave autographs). Russell, as an African-American, had experienced prejudice many times. One such occasion was an exhibition game in Kentucky. The hotel coffee shop refused to serve the black players, and they left. Cousy, discussing that event many years later, said that he didn't even remember it, and that he should have gone back to Boston with them. Like many of us, including me, we didn't apply the Golden Rule to African Americans and what they were (and are) going through. Shame on us. Cousy's last pass to Russell was a hand-written apology. Russell didn't respond directly, but he eventually called Cousy.

One of Mr. and Mrs. Cousy's treasured possessions was a clock given them by Russell, for Cousy's retirement.

Russell was, in his time, an articulate and highly intelligent man. He was active in civil rights, sitting in the front row at King's "I have a dream" speech, and present for Obama's inauguration. He was awarded the Medal of Freedom by Obama, who told him, at the ceremony, that without Russell, he wouldn't have been there.

Cousy was not a racist, or at least not a textbook case, by any means. After he became coach of his college alma mater, Holy Cross, he told an African American player who was dating his daughter that he would be proud to be his father-in-law. (The couple broke up later.) The Celtics were the first NBA team to put five African-Americans on the floor at once, and the first professional team, in any sport, to have an African-American coach (Russell). Cousy, and the Celtics, probably advanced race relations in Boston, a city with lots of racial prejudice.

It's too bad that Russell and Cousy weren't closer, and there's probably some blame to go to each of them. More important, though, is "what am I doing to reach out to people of different ethnicity?"

Another important idea, not emphasized, is Cousy's loyalty and love to his wife. She eventually became a victim of dementia. Cousy said that if he had to answer the same question from her, six times in ten minutes, he would do it. It wasn't always easy, of course, but he apparently stuck it out. She eventually died.

In their own ways, both men were role models.

The book (I read the e-book) has lots of photos, and plenty of scholarly apparatus, at the end, including an index and documentation. These don't interfere with the narrative.

A good book, about some difficult subjects. Thanks for reading.