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One was a pious taskmaster from rural Indiana who quoted Benjamin Franklin for moral guidance. Another was a wary teenager from New York City whose reading of Malcolm X inspired his civil-rights militancy. The third was a taciturn hippy from San Diego whose devotion to the Grateful Dead affirmed his rebellious spirit.
They were an unlikely trio, but together, John Wooden, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Bill Walton created one of the greatest dynasties in sports history. From 1964 to 1975 the University of California, Los Angeles basketball team won 10 national championships, including seven in a row. Five of those teams were led by either Mr. Abdul-Jabbar or Mr. Walton—both of them agile 7-foot prodigies—with head coach Wooden orchestrating his fast-break offense from the bench. During this reign, UCLA amassed four perfect seasons and was so dominant that its fans would begin making Final Four hotel reservations at the start of the season.
How UCLA ruled for so long is examined in Scott Howard-Cooper’s “Kingdom on Fire: Kareem, Wooden, Walton, and the Turbulent Days of the UCLA Basketball Dynasty.” Mr. Howard-Cooper, a veteran sportswriter, has found three appealing icons through whom to tell his story. Wooden, according to one writer, was “so square, he was divisible by four,” and his relationships with Messrs. Abdul-Jabbar and Walton, both of whom represented social changes sweeping America, are the satisfying heart of the narrative.
The book intersects with the nation’s tumult beyond the hardcourt—black empowerment, the Summer of Love, the Kent State shootings—as well as the upheavals in UCLA’s hometown. From the Watts riots to the Manson murders to Robert F. Kennedy’s assassination, Los Angeles during the Bruins’ heyday lay bare America’s wounds, making the dynasty itself a balm for the region.
The UCLA squads, to be sure, had teamwork, sacrifice and talent, but the dynasty was also built on crooked sticks.
One millionaire alum, Sam Gilbert, funneled money to the players in brazen violation of NCAA rules, and Mr. Abdul-Jabbar was among the many beneficiaries. As a sophomore in 1967 and already the best player in college basketball, he had considered transferring out of UCLA until he met with Gilbert. “Once the money thing got worked out,” Mr. Abdul-Jabbar later recounted, “I never gave another thought to leaving UCLA.” He graduated with an 88-2 record and three national championships.
Mr. Howard-Cooper did not interview Messrs. Abdul-Jabbar or Walton for his book. (Wooden died in 2010.) Each of them has written their own memoirs and has been profiled in numerous books and documentaries. Few revelations will be found here, and the writing rarely soars. But the portraits of its three principals are developed with nuance and sensitivity.
Wooden, though the least charismatic, is perhaps the most interesting. Raised on a small family farm, he shot his first hoops into a tomato basket with the bottom cut out. He married his high-school sweetheart, played basketball at Purdue and eventually entered coaching, moving to Los Angeles in 1948 to take over the Bruins.
He never liked Los Angeles (too fast, too much cement). Beyond his basketball philosophy—a speed game with pressure defense—he instructed his players on how to keep their fingernails trimmed and forbade sideburns and facial hair. He rarely scouted opponents but told his players where to stand for the national anthem. His was a rigid system, in basketball and in life, which led to spectacular success: In 27 years at UCLA, he won more than 80% of his games. But he was also a man on the ramparts, desperately braced against the winds of change.
Mr. Abdul-Jabbar joined UCLA in 1965 as Lew Alcindor. He changed his name after converting to Islam in 1968, officially becoming Kareem Abdul-Jabbar in 1971. For all his triumphs, Mr. Abdul-Jabbar was mostly unhappy at UCLA. He had thought that the school, once attended by his hero Jackie Robinson, would be an oasis from the stinging racism he experienced in New York. It wasn’t.
But even as a young collegian, he used his celebrity to advance controversial positions. He supported Muhammad Ali after the boxing champion was indicted in 1967 for refusing to be drafted, and he was part of the contingent of black American athletes who refused to play in the 1968 Olympics. He received death threats for his activism.
Mr. Walton was never threatened, but in 1972, six weeks after winning his first national title, he was arrested for participating in a campus protest over the Vietnam war. (He paid a $50 fine.) With his love for hiking, cycling and counterculture music, Mr. Walton had more fun than Mr. Abdul-Jabbar in college and was even more dynamic on the court. According to Mr. Scott-Howard, Mr. Walton is arguably the greatest player in college-basketball history. And one of the most competitive.
In UCLA’s loss to Notre Dame in 1974, which ended its record 88-game winning streak, Mr. Walton played all 40 minutes with an injured back. In later years, his children, to rile him during arguments, would threaten to attend Notre Dame.
As players, neither Mr. Abdul-Jabbar nor Mr. Walton was close personally to Wooden. The cultural bridge was too wide. Only in later years did a loving bond develop between the legendary coach and his two protégés, who were with him the day he died at age 99.
Reluctant to tarnish the dynasty, the NCAA waited until after Wooden retired in 1975 before launching an investigation into Gilbert’s misdeeds, which resulted in various penalties, including two years’ probation for the basketball team.
But it appears that Gilbert was merely ahead of his time. Thanks to changes in state laws, college athletes are now cashing in on their names, images and likenesses, giving schools with deep-pocket alums a huge advantage. In the future, college dynasties will be paid for legitimately.
They were an unlikely trio, but together, John Wooden, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Bill Walton created one of the greatest dynasties in sports history. From 1964 to 1975 the University of California, Los Angeles basketball team won 10 national championships, including seven in a row. Five of those teams were led by either Mr. Abdul-Jabbar or Mr. Walton—both of them agile 7-foot prodigies—with head coach Wooden orchestrating his fast-break offense from the bench. During this reign, UCLA amassed four perfect seasons and was so dominant that its fans would begin making Final Four hotel reservations at the start of the season.
How UCLA ruled for so long is examined in Scott Howard-Cooper’s “Kingdom on Fire: Kareem, Wooden, Walton, and the Turbulent Days of the UCLA Basketball Dynasty.” Mr. Howard-Cooper, a veteran sportswriter, has found three appealing icons through whom to tell his story. Wooden, according to one writer, was “so square, he was divisible by four,” and his relationships with Messrs. Abdul-Jabbar and Walton, both of whom represented social changes sweeping America, are the satisfying heart of the narrative.
The book intersects with the nation’s tumult beyond the hardcourt—black empowerment, the Summer of Love, the Kent State shootings—as well as the upheavals in UCLA’s hometown. From the Watts riots to the Manson murders to Robert F. Kennedy’s assassination, Los Angeles during the Bruins’ heyday lay bare America’s wounds, making the dynasty itself a balm for the region.
The UCLA squads, to be sure, had teamwork, sacrifice and talent, but the dynasty was also built on crooked sticks.
One millionaire alum, Sam Gilbert, funneled money to the players in brazen violation of NCAA rules, and Mr. Abdul-Jabbar was among the many beneficiaries. As a sophomore in 1967 and already the best player in college basketball, he had considered transferring out of UCLA until he met with Gilbert. “Once the money thing got worked out,” Mr. Abdul-Jabbar later recounted, “I never gave another thought to leaving UCLA.” He graduated with an 88-2 record and three national championships.
Mr. Howard-Cooper did not interview Messrs. Abdul-Jabbar or Walton for his book. (Wooden died in 2010.) Each of them has written their own memoirs and has been profiled in numerous books and documentaries. Few revelations will be found here, and the writing rarely soars. But the portraits of its three principals are developed with nuance and sensitivity.
Wooden, though the least charismatic, is perhaps the most interesting. Raised on a small family farm, he shot his first hoops into a tomato basket with the bottom cut out. He married his high-school sweetheart, played basketball at Purdue and eventually entered coaching, moving to Los Angeles in 1948 to take over the Bruins.
He never liked Los Angeles (too fast, too much cement). Beyond his basketball philosophy—a speed game with pressure defense—he instructed his players on how to keep their fingernails trimmed and forbade sideburns and facial hair. He rarely scouted opponents but told his players where to stand for the national anthem. His was a rigid system, in basketball and in life, which led to spectacular success: In 27 years at UCLA, he won more than 80% of his games. But he was also a man on the ramparts, desperately braced against the winds of change.
Mr. Abdul-Jabbar joined UCLA in 1965 as Lew Alcindor. He changed his name after converting to Islam in 1968, officially becoming Kareem Abdul-Jabbar in 1971. For all his triumphs, Mr. Abdul-Jabbar was mostly unhappy at UCLA. He had thought that the school, once attended by his hero Jackie Robinson, would be an oasis from the stinging racism he experienced in New York. It wasn’t.
But even as a young collegian, he used his celebrity to advance controversial positions. He supported Muhammad Ali after the boxing champion was indicted in 1967 for refusing to be drafted, and he was part of the contingent of black American athletes who refused to play in the 1968 Olympics. He received death threats for his activism.
Mr. Walton was never threatened, but in 1972, six weeks after winning his first national title, he was arrested for participating in a campus protest over the Vietnam war. (He paid a $50 fine.) With his love for hiking, cycling and counterculture music, Mr. Walton had more fun than Mr. Abdul-Jabbar in college and was even more dynamic on the court. According to Mr. Scott-Howard, Mr. Walton is arguably the greatest player in college-basketball history. And one of the most competitive.
In UCLA’s loss to Notre Dame in 1974, which ended its record 88-game winning streak, Mr. Walton played all 40 minutes with an injured back. In later years, his children, to rile him during arguments, would threaten to attend Notre Dame.
As players, neither Mr. Abdul-Jabbar nor Mr. Walton was close personally to Wooden. The cultural bridge was too wide. Only in later years did a loving bond develop between the legendary coach and his two protégés, who were with him the day he died at age 99.
Reluctant to tarnish the dynasty, the NCAA waited until after Wooden retired in 1975 before launching an investigation into Gilbert’s misdeeds, which resulted in various penalties, including two years’ probation for the basketball team.
But it appears that Gilbert was merely ahead of his time. Thanks to changes in state laws, college athletes are now cashing in on their names, images and likenesses, giving schools with deep-pocket alums a huge advantage. In the future, college dynasties will be paid for legitimately.