Wilt Chamberlain: Nobody cheers for Goliath

Chamberlain pictured during his time with the Philadelphia 76ers in 1965 (Getty Images)

This and many such similar incidents maybe sowed the need for the league to come up with the offensive and defensive goal-tending. Not a long-time after they had to bring in another rule that prevented players from dunking from the free-throw line.

My mistake, it was to prevent Chamberlain from doing something that outrageous. All this they believed was to maintain the serenity of the game that James Naismith envisaged in 1891, a game that Chamberlain threatened every single minute he was on the court.

If you were this good and scored all these points and hauled down all these rebounds, it is but understood that there can certainly be no yardstick to dispute one’s insurmountable greatness. Life can’t certainly be easier or any rosier. To be the physical specimen that he was and to have the ability and athleticism that he possessed; he was just expected to beat them all.

Chamberlain did just that, but his performances didn’t get the adulation it deserved, because by then many had started to assume such histrionics. Even when he won multiple scoring titles or made 7-footers look hapless; his exploits were taken as if it was expected to happen. Nobody cheers for Goliath, indeed.

Most of the savants and the press criticised him for what they believed he lacked, rather than celebrating him for what he possessed. So when Chamberlain went ahead and had the 60-point games, they deemed him of being too selfish and not working to the best interests of the team.

Sadly, nobody said the same when Michael Jordan had his 40-point games in his majestic play-off runs. As Chamberlain himself famously summed it up, “When you go out there and do the things you’re supposed to do, people view you as selfish.”

When they were done enjoying his amazing repertoire of post-moves, the fade-away bank-shots and the behind the back finger-roll’s, they rebuked him for being a disdainful free-throw shooter. They often pointed out that his missed free-throws were often the differential that allowed the Russell-led Boston Celtics to dominate every single Final series that they contested.

Nobody pointed out that Chamberlain dominated Russell in almost every single statistical category and that the Celtics indeed had a much better team than the Philadelphia Warriors (later 76ers) and the Los Angeles Lakers teams that Chamberlain played with. As Chamberlain pointed out, “I guarantee you, if you could give me 10 points in all those seventh games against the Celtics, instead of Bill Russell having 11 rings; I could’ve had at least eight or nine.”

But for the hierarchy driven basketball fraternity, it was always about Championships. And to them Chamberlain was a choker, who despite his talents failed to get the job done. They celebrated Russell because to the fans and the media, Russell was the nice amiable kid, who had been a celebrated high school player, and who was a great role model and played it by the rules.

Russell wasn’t challenging the game in any of the dimensions that Chamberlain was making a mockery of. He was the blue-collared, disciplined hard-nosed intense fundamental and defence-minded guy, who battled and stood a chance against the indomitable Chamberlain. So when Russell managed to keep Chamberlain down to 25 points, he was a hero. It was no surprise that Chamberlain was painted as the bad guy.

It would all seem distantly fair if one were to judge Chamberlain on his self-eulogizing and defiant public shenanigans, or his not-so-popular off-the-court escapades. But deep down inside Chamberlain was a much nicer guy than he was ever given credit for.

For Chamberlain, his physique was a rather maligning attribute, and something that the shy kid from Philadelphia wasn’t comfortable with. By high school, he was around 6’9” and so embarrassed by his height that he would mostly crouch around his friends and his family in an ardent ever-pleasing gesture.

Chamberlain didn’t want to be recognised as a giant and didn’t want his physical attributes to be his identity. His friends and family did tease him with the nickname “dipper”, but Chamberlain was happy being called dipper over giant.