So, this whole thing about Larry Bird, you know, was he an asshole? It’s funny, I’ve been mulling this over lately. It’s not like I set out to write a dissertation on it, just something that kinda popped into my head and I started poking around, thinking back.
I guess it started when I was watching some old Celtics games with my nephew. He’s young, didn’t grow up with Bird dominating, and he sees these clips, hears some of the stories, and he just flat out asked me, “Uncle, was that guy, like, a total jerk?” And it hit me, from his perspective, seeing some of that cold-blooded stuff, the way Bird carried himself, I could see why he’d ask.
So, I did what I usually do when something gets stuck in my craw. I started to dig a bit, but not in a formal way. More like, I’d bring it up with old buddies who lived and breathed basketball back in the 80s. We’d be having a beer, and I’d just throw it out there, “Hey, you think Bird was an asshole on the court?” And man, the stories would start flowing.
Everyone remembers the trash talk. That’s like, chapter one in the Larry Bird playbook. Stuff like him walking into the opposing locker room before a big game and asking which one of them was gonna finish second. Or telling a defender exactly how he was gonna score on him, and then doing it. Cold. Absolutely cold. I heard one story, might be true, might be legend, about him playing left-handed for almost an entire game just to make it a challenge, and still dropping a crazy number of points. If that’s not a power move, I don’t know what is.
Then there’s the on-court demeanor. He wasn’t out there to smile and shake hands. He was there to rip your heart out and show it to you. That stare, that intensity. You could feel it through the TV screen.
It kind of reminds me of this guy I knew back when I was working construction. We’ll call him Mike. Mike was the best damn crane operator I ever saw. But, man, he was rough. He’d cuss you out if you weren’t on your game, he’d ride you hard. Some of the new guys, they thought he was a complete asshole. They couldn’t stand him. But the thing was, Mike made everyone around him better because he demanded perfection. He didn’t suffer fools, and if you were slacking, he’d let you know. He wasn’t trying to win any popularity contests; he was trying to get the job done right and safe. And when things got really tough on a job, he was the guy you wanted in that crane, not the nice guy who was everyone’s friend but folded under pressure.
So, I look back at Bird. Was he an asshole? I think it’s too simple a word. Was he an unbelievably intense competitor who used every psychological edge he could find? Absolutely. Did he rub people the wrong way? For sure. But a lot of his rivals, even the ones who hated playing against him, they also had this deep respect for him. Because he backed it all up. It wasn’t just talk. It was talk followed by a dagger three-pointer in your face.
I think in that hyper-competitive world, especially back then, that edge was part of what made him great. He wasn’t out there to be buddies with everyone. He was there to win championships. And he did. Maybe “asshole” is what some people called it, but “legend” is what everyone else called it. It’s a fine line, I guess. For me, watching those old games, knowing what I know now, it’s just part of the whole package. You don’t get the sweet without the sour sometimes. And Bird, he was a whole lot of game, with a big side of psychological warfare. You had to respect the hustle, even if it made you grit your teeth.
