Golden Basketball Magazine

Basketball Snapshots
The articles in this series contain stories about basketball's colorful personalities.

Recruiting Oscar Robertson - 1

The Big O: My Life, My Times, My Game, Oscar Robertson (2003)
As the Indiana Star of Stars in 1956, Oscar was the most sought-after player in the country.

By the time I graduated from high school, 75 colleges had recruited me, in one form or another, with at least 40 schools contacting me directly. Only Wilt Chamberlain, who had signed the previous season to play at Kansas, had received more attention. Colleges had been in touch with me since my sophomore season, but during my senior year things got crazy. Calls came to my house and school on a daily basis.

Maybe other athletes have enjoyed the recruitment process. There's a lot to enjoy: the attention, the constant praise, the promises. To some degree, everyone likes being romanced. Make that almost everybody. I wasn't at ease with the process. In fact, I was extremely cautious about it, wary of all these people I didn't know. I sa them as part of the other world, the white world, a world that had made very few sincere overtures to me. Moreover, I had heard of situations where other black players felt awkward simply because of their unfamiliarity with the way things worked. There was the story of a player who took a recruiting trip to Nebraska. On the plane he asked the stewardess how much it would cost him to have a sandwich. Well, the sandwiches were complimentary, they were the in-flight meal, and he'd never been on a plane. He didn't know. And he came back from a recruiting trip with money in his pockets to pay for his trip back home. His mom thought they were buying him like a slave and made him send all the cash back. Then there were the stories of black players, like Bill Scott who went to white schools and excelled, only to be run from the team by their teammates who thought they were being shown up.

Oscar Robertson and Wilt Chamberlain in high school

I was by no means afraid of the future, but I also wasn't in any hurry to commit to anything. I started planning. I realized that where I attended college was a huge decision, and I wanted to make it carefully, on my own terms. I was going to play college ball somewhere, that was for sure, and wherever it was going to be, I allowed myself to believe that the school I would choose would celebrate greatness the same way for everyone, regardless of skin color. Maybe I was looking through rose-colored glasses, to believe there was such a place. But that's how I thought. If there were a college where merit mattered more than skin color, I'd find it. That would be where I would attend college.

NCAA rules were that colleges couldn't legally talk to me until after the Kentucky-Indiana all-star game, when my eligibility to play high school ball expired. So that bought me ome time. And once basketball ended, I was busy all spring with the track squad–I qualified for the state championships in the high jump. I also played around with the baseball team (in one game, they let me pitch, and I went the distance for the win, striking out ten, allowing only five hits). So long as I was involved with high school sports, recruiters weren't supposed to contact me. Of course, they still did. My did disconnected his phone three times. Guess all those recruiting folks didn't realize how little pull my dad had with me. Those recruiters could have become hsi best friends, and it wouldn't have affected my decision.

A publicity guy named Haskell Cohen, who worked for the NBA, wanted me to go to Duquesne. But that school turned me off when they suggested I be a bellhop at Kutsher's in the Catskills and play basketball all summer. They said it was the way to become an All-American, but I had to work in the summer, and not as a bellhop. Cohen didn't care. He spread rumors that I was virtually pledged to Duquesne. There was even a rumor that our house on Boulevard Place was part of a deal made so that I would play ball at Duquesne. I heard that I had been given a $250 watch and a wardrobe of clothes. I used to look at my wrist to see if it was true, but there was never any watch. I used to stare down at my clothes, shirts that I'd had for years and years, and laugh at my stunning wardrobe. One rumor, spread during the height of the recruiting competition, had a FOR SALE sign appearing in our yard. Absurd.

When my friend Don Brown got in some trouble with his father and couldn't drive, I drove us to school in Don's car; of course that sprarked rumors that I'd been given a car. The truth is, I didn't get my first car until after I graduated from high school, after I had made my decision, once recruiting was over. I got my first real job working for a businessman named Swanson that summer. I called him Swanney. He had a car wash and a construction crew. I worked on the crew, putting in asphalt all day long. It wasn't any harder than throwing hay into a moving wagon all day long, so I didn't mind it. Swanney told me if I worked to make my money, at the end of the summer he'd help me get a car. At the end of the summer, I had maybe three or four hundred dollars. I found a used Mercury for sale, two-tone brown, for about $500. He made up the difference, and boom, I had my first automobile.

Imagine going through your senior year of high school, trying to live a normal life while all these rumors that you're for sale to the highest bidder are flying around. Meanwhile, you're about to spend the summer putting in pavement and saving up money for a used, two-tone Mercury. Yes, people were tryig to wine and dine me. But I wasn't on the take, so there wasn't much they could give me.

Continue below ...

Recruiting Oscar Robertson - 2

The Big O: My Life, My Times, My Game, Oscar Robertson (2003)
As the Indiana Star of Stars in 1956, Oscar was the most sought-after player in the country.

Indiana University's coach, Branch McCracken, was famous for recruiting Indiana high school players through a statewide network of clinics. High school coaches took the clinics, where they learned how to run fast-break plays using something called the McCracken System. Then the coaches would take that system back to their schools and teach their teams how to play that way. The best players were then funneled into Indiana. Just about anybody who grew up in Indiana and played nothing more than recreational basketball had a dream, at one time or another, of playing for Indiana. I was no different. Sure I had reservations because of the way McCracken had refused to recruit my brother Bailey and then had wasted Hallie Bryant's talents by having him sit on the bench. I also knew that although Indiana University had five black players on the team, they did not play more than one or two at a time. If they had all those guys on the bench, it followed that someone wasn't going to play. I knew a lot of guys who had their careers ruined because of that, and it wasn't going to happen to me. So, yes, there were all kinds of potential problems. I knew that. They didn't eclipse the mystique that being a Hoosier held for me. I wanted to go to Indiana.

My senior year of high school, Branch McCracken was nursing a heartache about losing Wilt Chamberlain. In 1954 to 1955, the seven-footer came out of Overbrook High in Philadelphia and set off what was then the largest recruiting war in college basketball history. More than 200 schools approached him. Indiana was one of the three or four finalists.In his first autobiography, Wilt, Chamberlain said that when he was making his decision, rumors reached him that McCracken wasn't all that fond of blacks. Chamberlain went on to write that although Indiana recruiters later told him they would double whatever any other school offered to pay him, he signed with Forrest "Phog" Allen and Kansas. McCracken's version of events was different. He would tell at least one reporter that Chamberlain had been offered to him for $5,000 up front. In McCracken's version of the story, he refused to pay Wilt and lost him for that reason. "We thought we had Wilt. He announced he was coming here. Phog Allen stole him away from us."

Crispus Attucks 1955 Indiana State Champs; #43 is Oscar Robertson.
Coach Ray Crowe stands behind Oscar.

Well, I was the most hyped recruit since Chamberlain. Maybe that made McCracken distrustful of me.

When track season ended, I became free of varsity obligations and could legally make home visits to universities. The first place I wanted to go was Bloomington. One cloudless spring day, Coach Crowe drove me there. I got to McCracken's office expecting a certain warmth; after all, they were one of the schools sending me information and saying they wanted me to play for their team, and I was the state's Mr. Basketball.

McCracken's secretary said he was busy. Could I please have a seat and wait?

Well, after I sat there for 30 minutes or so, McCracken's door finally opened. He invited me into his office, and I sat down. He was quiet for a moment, looking at me, sizing me up. Finally he said: "I hope you're not the kind of kid who wants money to go to school." I did not know that kids got money to play at schools. I grew up religious and was taught to do the right and honest thing. I didn't want money to go to college. I just wanted to go.

I didn't answer him and just walked out of his office, back to the car seriously insulted.

If the man had said, "Oscar, we would like you to come to Indiana and play for us," I would have taken a pen from my own pocket and signed with him right there. Instead I came away thinking that I wouldn't play for Indiana if it were the last place on earth.

"I got to leave," I told Ray.

My first choice was off the list, so I started going down the rest of them. I thought hard about Purdue. Willie Merriweather was there, but it was not to be.

John Wooden of UCLA had sent me one of his "Pyramids of Success," but he hadn't really started winning his titles yet. And when I thought of being out in Los Angeles, so far away from my family, I felt my heart drop somewhere underneath my stomach. I decided to stay close enough to home so I could ride a bus back home if I needed to. That helped narrow my choices some.

The University of Michigan was far enough away to necessitate an airplane ride, but also close enough I could ride home on a bus if the situation demanded it. I decided to visit and rode in an airplane for the very first time. I was more nervous about the plane ride than meeting the coaching staff. The plane touched the ground in Detroit, and I felt like the rest of the visit would be a piece of cake. I got to the terminal and looked for someone to come forward and introduce themselves. I watched the rest of the passengers meet their parties and wander toward the baggage claim. I kept waiting, unsure of what to do of where to go. After half an hour, I called the coach. They'd forgotten I was coming. I got on the next plane for home.

Continue below ...

Recruiting Oscar Robertson - 3

The Big O: My Life, My Times, My Game, Oscar Robertson (2003)
As the Indiana Star of Stars in 1956, Oscar was the most sought-after player in the country.

A novelty salesman working out of Cincinnati by the name of Al Hutchinson was a major fan of the University of Cincinnati's basketball team. By chance he also had seen me play during my sophomore year at Crispus Attucks. Al was the first man to tell Cincinnati coach George Smith that he had to see the Attucks team. Smith went down to see what Willie Merriweather could do on a court, but he left interested in me. During my senior year, I was at the top of his list of students to recruit, but somehow Cincinnati's pitch hadn't made such a huge impression on me.

It was late March, awfully late to be thinking about recruiting for September enrollment, when a conversation took place in George Smith's office. Dick Forbes, a sports columnist for The Cincinnati Enquirer, was talking with Tom Eicher, UC's sports publicity man. Walter Paul, an executive for Queen City Barrel and Astro Container of Cincinnati, was also there. Paul recruited for the University of Cincinnati's basketball program, partly as a hobby, and partly because they had such a limited coaching staff. Walter Paul sat in the office, listening, as the reporter and the sports publicity man talked back and forth about me. One of them said, "I bet this guy couldn't be had for less than $10,000."

Oscar Robertson (43) playing for Crispus Attucks.

This was the first time Walter Paul ever heard of me. Years later he told me, "That comment triggered me. You know, you sustain a certain motivation all through life. But there are some things you want worse than anything else. That–and convincing the woman I married–were the two things that I worked hardest at in my lifetime over a short period of time."

Without George Smith knowing a thing about it, Walter Paul went out on his own, trying to find out how to learn about me.

He started out by talking to the black truck drivers who worked for him and then going into Kingan's, the meat-packing plant where my dad used to work in Indianapolis. The workers there told him that my father would have very little influence on me. Then he found a meat inspector who said he knew my minister. That too was a blind alley. Finally, via the process of elimination, he determined that the key people in my life were Ray Crowe and my mom. Later, both Ray and my mom told me that neither one of them felt they had a hold of me. Each suspected that the other one had control. George Smith thought it was my mom who was the major factor in my decision as to where to attend college, and said, "Nobody else in his life even came close." But in the end, as Smith and Paul found out, I was my own man.

Paul's first approach to Ray Crowe didn't get him anywhere. Next, Paul contacted my mother. "We had long discussions about the poverty, the holes in the roof, the tacky linoleum, no showers for the kids, and all that. I listened, no comments. Just listened. Then she played me some spiritual numbers that she wrote in hopes of recording. They had a great beat to them."

My mom told Walter Paul that she wanted two things. One, she wanted to get on the 50-50 Club–a midday variety show piped out of Cincinnati WLW-TV into Indianapolis, Columbus, and Dayton. Two, she wanted to get somebody with some clout to listen to that music. She wanted to try and have it published.

My mom told Paul that the apartment owner next door to us had been authorized by a wealthy Indiana University alumnus to offer the family $5,000 for my enrollment at Bloomington. But she also said that Bailey had been cold-shouldered at IU, and there was no way I would go there. Furthermore she said that I wasn't for sale. That stuff had gone out 90 years ago.

Next, Paul, with Bearcats coach George Smith in tow, visited Crispus Attucks. They wanted to talk with Principal Lane, but he was out of town, so they had a long chat with the assistant principal. Not only did Paul and Coach Smith come away impressed with the cleanlliness and the atmosphere of the school, but the assistant principal gave me high marks on character, scholarship, and moral fiber. He told them that my desire to be a great player kept me out of trouble; I avoided anything off the straight and narrow, and even stayed away from teammates who were headed the wrong way.

After they got the tour of Attucks, they met me. Two or three months of intense work had gone into the project at this point. Attucks's dad was furious at him, claiming that his son had neglected the family business to run around chasing a basketball player. But finally, Attucks laid eyes on me.

It was my first time in a hotel suite. Of course I was shy, didn't say two words to the man.

Attucks and Coach Smith made their presentation. They said, "Look. You are the most-sought-after basketball player in the United States. No matter where you go, you will be looked upon skeptically. At the University of Cincinnati we have a co-op program in thebusiness administration school. We have arranged a double-section version of our regular co-op program, where you can actually go to school for 14 weeks and then work for 14 weeks and legally be paid for it and not made ineligible as an athlete. You will at Cincinnati Gas and Electric on a regular wage scale."

I sat still and stayed quiet.

To be continued ...

"What a terrible way to lose a game"

The #1 North Carolina Tar Heels hosted their archrival, the Duke Blue Devils, on February 9, 1957.

Duke led most of the game, but in the last ten minutes the Tar Heels, the nation's only major undefeated team, took the lead and began to pull away. Led by Lennie Rosenbluth's 35 points, UNC held what appeared to be a comfortable 73-65 advantage with two minutes to play. But four Blue Devil free throws cut it to 73-69 with 45 seconds play.

That's when Duke's Bobby Joe Harris began his thievery. He twice stole the ball from Tommy Kearns and fed fellow G Bob Vernon for layups to tie the score with 24 seconds to play.

And then Harris went from hero to goat.

The hand-operated scoreboard at Woollen Gym (built in 1937) didn't immediately record the last Duke basket. Harris looked at the scoreboard and saw that Duke was trailing by two. Even if there had been a shot clock in those days, there was too little time left to wait for UNC to shoot. So Harris fouled Kearns while trying to steal the ball in order to stop the clock.

As Kearns headed for the foul line, Harris glanced again and saw the adjusted score. "What have I done?" Bobby Joe muttered. Kearns sank both shots with 16 seconds left. Duke had time to tie but couldn't make a basket.

Years later, Harris admitted: "It still bothers me. What a terrible way to lose a game."

L-R: Lennie Rosenbluth, Bobby Joe Harris, Frank McGuire and Tommy Kearns

Bobby Joe got a measure of revenge the next time the Devils visited Chapel Hill. #13 Duke upset Frank McGuire's defending national champions, 91-75.

Trailing 36-35 at halftime, the Blue Devils played an almost perfect second half to outscore the #7 Tar Heels 56-39.

Harris called a timeout with a few seconds left with the game well in hand. Coach Howard Bradley demanded to know what he was doing. Bobby Joe replied: "Well, Coach, I just wanted to give them time to get the score right. They've rubbed our noses in it long enough."

The team sat quietly on the bench and waited out the timeout without Bradley saying another word.

Reference: Tales from the Duke Blue Devils Hardwood, Jim Sumner (2005)

When UCLA Came to the Sugar Bowl

John Wooden's UCLA Bruins had won six NCAA championships in a row when they came to New Orleans in December 1972 to play in the Sugar Bowl Basketball Tournament. The 1972-73 edition of the West Coast juggernaut had won their first six games of the season by a minimum of 16 points. That stretched the Bruins' winning streak to 51 games. The undisputed leader of the Bruins was 6'11" C Bill Walton, who brought an average of 19 points and 17 rebounds into the tournament. Harv Schmidt, coach of Illinois, one of the other three participants, said, "Walton is one of the best power postmen to ever play the college game."

Joining Walton in the starting lineup were forwards Keith Wilkes (6'6") and Larry Farmer (6'5") and guards Tommy Curtis (5'10") and Larry Hollyfield (6'5"). Assistant coach Gary Cunningham, speaking for Coach Wooden, said, "The Sugar Bowl has a strong field ... we're looking forward to the competition."

UCLA played Drake in the opening game at the Municipal Auditorium Friday, December 29, with the Illini facing Temple in the nightcap.

Drake coach Howard Stacey was under no illusion about his team's chances. "No doubt UCLA is in a class by itself. ... We are probably a lot like UCLA in philosophy. We'll try full court pressure on defense, and we believe in the fast break offensively." His squad entered the contest with a 6-1 mark, including the most recent victory over Iowa 96-80. The lone setback came at the hands of Iowa State 88-84. All five Bulldog starters averaged in double figures with 6-2 G David Langston the leader with 18 ppg.

As expected, UCLA jumped out to an early lead before a crowd of over 7,000 that shoe-horned into the 1930-vintage arena. The Bruins led 32-24 after 12 minutes of play. But Drake started converting a rash of UCLA turnovers - 16 in the first half alone - into points. The 18-6 run that carried into the second half propelled the Des Moines school into a 38-34 halftime lead and a 42-38 margin in the early minutes of the second half.

The underdogs benefitted from Coach Stacey's strategy of moving his center, 6'8" Larry Seger, to the top of the key to draw the intimidating Walton out of the middle. Seger canned five buckets on long, looping set shots from 20 to 28'.

After Wooden made some halftime adjustments, including switching Walton off Seger, the Bruins began firing on all cylinders. Farmer and Walton scored the first 13 points in the second half to build up a 10-point lead. The Bulldogs got no closer than eight points after the first five minutes of the half.

Walton, who led all scorers with 29, simply overpowered Seger underneath. UCLA shot an incredible 63.5% from the floor thanks to numerous layups on the back end of steals and Walton's point blank baskets. (Dunking was prohibited by the NCAA from 1967-76.)

The final margin was 85-72. At least Drake had the satisfaction of holding the mighty Bruins to their smallest margin of victory so far in the season.

Stacey was asked what it would take to stop the agile, strong Walton. "Another Walton. He is the best center I've seen in a long time, and the best I've every coached against ... including Jerry Lucas. UCLA ... kept the pressure on us and waited for the mistakes even though we stayed with them."

L-R: John Wooden and Bill Walton, Larry Farmer, Nick Weatherspoon

Illinois defeated Temple 82-77 to run their record to 6-2 and earn the right to play UCLA for the championship the Saturday afternoon.

G Jeff Dawson's 24 points and F Nick Weatherspoon's 22 accounted for over half of the Illini's points. Could the duo continue that production against the Bruins?

'Spoon scored 18, but Dawson was held to 14 as the methodical Uclans prevailed 71-64.

The #1 Bruins didn't have an easy time of it but at no time did they not seem in control of the game. However, they trailed ten minutes deep into the game before pulling ahead 37-31 at intermission.

Nick Conner, Illinois' cat-quick 6'8" C and a Connie Hawkins look-alike, made Walton work at both ends of the court. After scoring just 10 the first 20 minutes, Bill put in 12 the second half to again lead all scorers and win the MVP award.

Bruins playmaker Tommy Curtis picked up three fouls in the first ten minutes of action and sat out the rest of the half. UCLA led 37-31 at the break.

UCLA got its patented fast-break working the second half and built up 53-37 lead in the first six minutes. The Fighting llini lived up to their name but got no closer than the final margin.

Wooden: "I wasn't particularly pleased with our play, but I'm much happier than I was after Friday's game. It was Illinois' pressure which caused our mistakes ... They weren't mistakes of our own. They played a fine pressure defense. Their aggressiveness caused the trouble. ... Conner, as far as I'm concerned, is the most outstanding individual we've played this year."

UCLA finished the 1971-72 season 30-0 for their seventh straight national championship. They would extend their winning streak to 88 before losing to Notre Dame in January, 1973.

1972-73 UCLA Bruins after winning their 7th straight national championship

Return to Basketball Magazine

Recruiting Oscar Robertson - 1

Recruiting Oscar Robertson - 2

Recruiting Oscar Robertson - 3

"What a terrible way to lose a game."

When UCLA came to the Sugar Bowl

Basketball Snapshots - II
The Path to 24 Seconds | Xavier McDaniel | Luisetti's One-Handed Shot | Wooden's First National Champs | The Original Celtics - from New York, not Boston

Basketball Snapshots - III
CCNY Wins NCAA and NIT | CCNY Gambling Scandal | Revenge Is Sweet

Basketball Snapshots - IV
Globetrotters-Lakers Series | Bevo Francis of Rio Grande | Memories of Loyola Field House

Basketball Snapshots - V
Baron's First Black Player | "The Greatest Upset Never Seen" | History of the Metro Conference

Basketball Snapshots - X
Overcoat on Rim | "World Champions" before the NBA | Shipley Integrates USL

Basketball Snapshots - XI
Red, Bill, and Wilt I through VII

Basketball Snapshots - XII
1957 NBA Finals