“I think we see Willis coming out”: An oral history of the Knicks’ Game 7 win in the 1970 NBA Finals
Featured
Sep 8
Written By Matthew Miranda
Not pictured: Wilt Chamberlain crapping his pants on the other side of the court.
https://www.thestrick.land/strick/willis-reed-knicks-nba-finals-1970-game-7-oral-history
++
Notes:
Falling to the Knicks made Baylor winless in seven career Finals and West 0-for-6. I lived for a bit in the old century. I’m not here to tell you things were better then. Some were. One was people like Ernie Banks and Elgin Baylor and Don Mattingly being mostly appreciated for all that they were rather than reduced to the square root of a championship ring.
Interesting fact: 1970 was the only season in Chamberlain’s 14-year career that he didn’t lead the league per game in minutes, points, rebounds or field goal %.
Free throws back in the day were unreal! The moment the refs got the ball after the first shot, they were whipping it back to the shooter. Frazier didn’t even need three seconds to get his second attempt up after the first.
Dave Stallworth, who put in some good, tough shifts guarding Chamberlain and hit an enormous shot over Wilt in the Knicks’ Game 5 comeback, suffered a heart attack in his second NBA season, before his time with the Knicks. Wow. If the NBA still does Comeback Player of the Year awards, name that after Stallworth.
Things you learn watching old games: I always thought Happy Hairston was a white dude, just off the name. He was not.
At stake for the winning players: a $48K share. When Toronto beat Golden State over a year ago, that had climbed to about $220K per player. (Ed. note: What has seen a much bigger spike in the years since is obviously player salaries: the average player in 1970 made around $35K; now, some players’ contracts pay them close to $50 million, championship or not. Safe to say a title meant a little more to the players financially back then.)
Game 7’s broadcast sponsors: Arrow, the colorful white shirt company, and Salem filter cigarettes — with the taste “springtime soft, menthol fresh.” Damn. Now I want me a smoke.
Different world: DeBusschere, the 1970 Knicks’ power forward, was basically the same size (6’6”, 220 lbs.) as the 2020 Knicks’ shooting guard, RJ Barrett.
There were multiple mid-game announcements that ABC would air President Nixon’s press conference at 10 p.m. Remember when Nixon was the worst president you could imagine? Good times.
My dad told me to be sure to mention the time before a game we saw Walt Frazier and Al Trautwig and I got a picture and a photo with Clyde. My dad always asks if I still have it. I always wish I could tell him yes. But no.
I mention Trautwig simply because he was there, and maybe because in the mid-’90s I’d seen more of Trautwig on TV than Frazier. But as someone who saw Frazier’s entire career, my father may not have even perceived Trautwig’s existence, ‘cuz who cares about that when Walt Freaking Frazier’s standing right there?
I asked my dad what was it like watching the ‘90s Knicks vs. the championship teams, and what would happen if they played one another:
MIRANDA: All the time on the courts, your uncle Oscar and I weren’t the fastest guys or the most athletic. But we won most games we played — people thought we ran trick plays, but it was just because we knew how to pick and roll; we passed; we knew how to block out. I think the 1970s Knicks would be like Oscar and myself, in terms of fundamentally they were sound. The ‘90s Knicks had Ewing, they had Starks, but they were kind of wild. They were rough. I think if the ‘90s Knicks played the ‘70s Knicks, the ‘70s win seven of eight games, simply because of the discipline and the team play. The Knicks were textbook as far as what team play was. Five guys touched the ball before a shot was taken. It was a thing of beauty to watch them.
Quoth Harvey Araton a few months ago regarding those golden age Knickerbockers: “The Knicks love affair transcended divisions of religion, race and economic class, stretching from Harlem to Wall Street, the Bronx to Staten Island, and to the most distant suburban stops on commuter lines.” Today we heard from Connecticut, Spanish Harlem and the Mecca itself. Today, just like 50 years ago, a criminal president* pretends to value law and order in order to keep us separated and too weakened fighting each other to punch up. The 1970 Knicks proved a fist is more powerful than five fingers. Hopefully that lesson repeats itself, on the MSG hardwood and in the world all around us.