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| Jeff (L) in June 1978, Bill Walton on book cover and as UCLA'scenter |
When I was a kid, I spent hours at the Springboro Park, playing basketball in the rain, snow or the heat of the midday sun, working to be the next Bill Walton, who at the time was the All-American starting center at UCLA, which was a national powerhouse.
My signature move was the pump fake, turnaround jumper, always off the backboard, just like big Bill did when he destroyed the opposition. I practiced that shot over and over again.
My goal was to one day be a Bruin and play for the legendary John Wooden, who won the NCAA title 10 times in his last 12 years of coaching. I hoped to be a Sports Illustrated cover story, “UCLA’s Next Red-Hot Redhead.”
I knew I could do it, too After all, I had the same quickness and blazing red hair that Bill Walton had. All I needed to do was simply grow two feet in six years, which my friends told me happened all the time.
So I dreamed of sunny Los Angeles, with its endless beaches and world-wide recognition. California, here I come.
I think of all that now, some 40 years later, because I recently read Bill Walton’s book, “Back From The Dead,” an autobiography that hit the bookstores a couple of months ago.
It is his story of growing up in San Diego in a family that chose not to have a television, with parents who encouraged free thinking, at a time when his mind expanded by reading books and listening to his transistor radio.
It is a story of his love of all kinds of music, particularly through performers who espoused strong social themes like Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and the Grateful Dead, all of whom performed regularly in his hometown.
It is also a story about how life and basketball parallel one another because they mix our individual focus at doing our best together with our overall need to be part of something bigger than ourselves. He says frequently, “basketball was my religion, and the gym was my church.”
He tells a lot of behind-the-scenes stories about Coach Wooden, following the Grateful Dead on tour (over 800 shows and counting), and especially about the trash-talking with Larry Bird and the 1985-86 Boston Celtics.
He talks about the thrill of winning two NCAA championships and then, years later, two NBA titles. He talks about teammates and talent and the thrill of competition. It’s interesting reading, and very well-written.
But let me tell you the main reason I loved this book.
It was the stuff that had nothing to do with basketball.
…
BILL WALTON KNOWS what it means to be in gut-wrenching, back-breaking, all-consuming pain. In the words of one noted writer, he had the basketball ability of Michael Jordan but the feet and knees of your great-great-grandmother.
He suffered countless injuries and endured an overwhelming number of surgeries so that, in the early days, he could continue to play basketball. Years later, when his playing days were over, the surgeries had a more compelling purpose — to walk, and live.
His pain culminated into a period in 2009 when, with a broken spine, all he could do was lie on the living room floor, where the slightest movement sent piercing daggers all throughout his body.
He had no life.
As I read this book, all I could think about was all of my friends who know what it is like to suffer immensely. Sometimes it is because of physical infirmity, but other times it is because of severe emotional pain. Life has no purpose. It is shrouded in agony.
Some people do not survive such devastation.
But Bill Walton never quit. He endured the surgeries. He withstood the recovery. And slowly, but surely, he found light in the midst of darkness. He found happiness in the wake of tragedy. It was not the least bit easy. But it was so worth it.
By doing that, he can now always say the glass is half-full. By stopping to smell the roses, he realizes they are even more spectacular than just what the eye beholds. By looking for goodness, he finds it.
And that’s why I liked this book so much. It was a reminder of child-like innocence and a lesson on wide-eyed enthusiasm. I may not be the bushy-hair kid who thinks he can conquer the world, but at least I can certainly appreciate all I have been given, and realize -- always -- that it is way more than I ever deserved, and more than enough to keep me happy.
…
AT AGE 63, BILL WALTON isn’t slowly fading into the sunset. Just the opposite. He is forging full-steam ahead into the future because there are so many things he still wants to do.
He indeed has come “Back From The Dead,” which is why the title to this book is so fitting. But his message goes one step further.
He says to "Be Alive In The Moment," because it is all we have.
Thanks, Bill. Once again, you’re an inspiration.