Red and Me

Once upon a time in what seems like long, long ago – I was an ambitious teenager growing up in a Boston where there were only 3 things anyone ever talked about. In descending order – sports, politics and –depending on the year or person – ethnic and race relations.

And so when former Celtics center Bill Russell’s love-letter to his friend and coach Red Auerbach – “Red and Me” – was published last June –I eagerly bought it. And then – like so many of the books I buy – it sat there on the kitchen table for 6 months.

But this week I finally picked up the book – and it was like I was home again. Living in my mother’s Back Bay apartment, walking past Fenway Park on my way to school, listening to the games on the radio as I did my homework.

Our sports teams were part of Boston’s DNA – the Red Sox, Celtics, Bruins and Patriots (until they moved out of Boston to the middle of nowhere-- Foxborough). The Boston Braves were, by then, history. Like everyone in that long ago – I knew the names of each team’s stars and coaches and owners. Names that stayed constant for years at a time. But of course I didn’t know much about them as people. You only learn about people when you know them personally over time – and if you’re lucky you get to know a few people you resonate with.

I never met Bill Russell. Nor Red Auerbach. Nor Walter Brown – the Celtics’ owner. But now – after reading “Red and Me” – I feel like I know them. The values Russell writes about (with Alan Steinberg’s help) are the core values of my childhood. Attitudes and beliefs – and yes - obligations that don’t seem to be talked about much anymore. And yet my life was (and is) as different from Russell’s and Auerbach’s as – well - as oil is from water.

Russell and Auerbach were the odd couple. Unlikely friends. But they understood each other in a special way. A way perhaps particularly male – but still -- a deep and caring and lasting way.

Maybe if you didn’t grow up in Boston – in a particular time and mindset – this book may not seem so special. Russell writes in absolutes. His and Auerbach’s. Boston was like that when I lived there. Some absolutes were overt and sometimes pretty ugly. But others were internal -- hammered into our psyches over the generations. Call it the New England work ethic if you like – stiffening our spines and programming our brains to move forward no matter what life threw at us.

Neither Russell nor Auerbach were from Boston or even New England. But somehow – they were us.

In college I learned to be more flexible, to question absolutes and demand proof for everything. OK I became a journalist. But what I consider my core values – survived. Or to put it another way – once a Bostonian, always a Bostonian.

Bill Russell and Red Auerbach were among the few people who apparently never questioned their absolutes. Russell writes about the ones they shared in his exquisitely honest memoir of a legendary coach who became a firm friend.

If you love sports and are of a certain age – read “Red and Me”. If you love sports and know anything about basketball history – read “Red and Me”. And if you just love finding out what makes people tick – read “Red and Me”. Maybe you’ll “absorb” a few (New England) core values.