When I first saw Elgin Baylor play, I was in seventh grade and basketball was becoming the center of my sports solar system. He would attack the rim against the Bill Russell Celtics and hang, moving the ball in different directions, and gently place the ball over the hands of the defenders, when gravity returned them back to the court, but Baylor was able to outlast them in the air. I became mesmerized by that series and Jerry West's heroics in the seventh game(he was the only Finals MVP from a losing team) but couldn't take my eyes off Baylor when he challenged the Celtics in the paint. Little did I know that Baylor, in the first 6 years of his career was the player most respected by his peers for his all-around play, and that his improvisation with the ball in his hands, like a great Jazz musician, was a gateway to the modern NBA. I also never knew, or appreciated, how much he influenced change in Professional sports.
Baylor grew up in a very racially charged Washington DC, having to sneak into a whites only playground to work on his game after the sun went down. When his little sister slapped a white girl who called her the "N" word, he was disgusted with his father, who beat her with a belt at the suggestion of the police officers who came to his house. Somehow, the "rabbit", as he was known in DC, was able to overcome the lack of news coverage given to his legendary exploits at his all African American high school, and pursued an education and basketball fame at the University of Seattle. When he got to the Minneapolis Lakers in 1958, he was an instant sensation and took the league by storm. Hot Rod Hundley, his teammate on the Lakers from West Virginia, arranged for a game to be played in Charlottesville so that all the people in his state could see how good his teammate was. When they pulled into town and arrived at their hotel, the manager told the team that Baylor, and his two other black teammates, would not be able to stay at the hotel. An embarrassed Hundley called the Mayor, the Governor, and anybody else that he could think of, but the Black athletes were not going to be able to stay at the hotel. In solidarity, the team stayed at the Black Hotel in town. When a white teammate told Baylor that he felt out of place, Baylor told him, "Now you know how I feel." At the game the following day, Baylor refused to play. When Hundley initially told him that he had to play, Baylor told him that he was a man, and if he couldn't stay in a hotel in that town, he wasn't going to play basketball there. The prequel to the sanitation strike in Memphis. Hundley then agreed with his position. The days of segregated hotels for professional athletes quickly came to an end. When the nascent NBA players association threatened to sit out before the first televised all-star game in 1964, they knew they needed Baylor's approval for the rest of the players to make a stand. After a delay to the start of the game, the owners caved, and the players in today's NBA owe a debt of gratitude to the improved working conditions that made steady improvement since that all-star game in 1964. Later in that season he suffered a career altering knee injury that made him rely on his guile and experience, over his air defying exploits, to remain a great player, but not the generational player he had been before the injury. Today's load management, implemented in an attempt to prevent knee and achilles tendon injuries, may have helped prevent the injury, but Baylor would have fought it every inch of the way. Although the NBA schedule in those days was incredibly excessive, Elgin played for his teammates and the fans who paid to see him play.
Elgin continued to discuss the rest of his career in the book - from his disappointing retirement at the age of 37, on the cusp of the Lakers historic 1972 championship, to his days as a General Manager for the racist Donald Sterling and his Clippers. It was a wild ride for the "rabbit" and I was happy to relive it with him. It's a great sports memoir for basketball fans, but also a piercing reminder of how far we have come, and how far we have to go.