Showtime Lakers Quotes

Riley had Ron Carter—the former Laker now back in camp with the team—playing point against Johnson during drills. In the midst of a particularly physical exchange, Johnson slapped Carter across the face. Carter, a graduate of the Virginia Military Academy, screamed, “What the hell are you doing?” and pushed back. Johnson threw a punch, and Carter pinned him to the ground—“It took me five seconds,” Carter said. The players were separated, and as he rose, Johnson waved toward Carter, smiled and said, “Bye-bye.

Checketts picked up on just how deeply Riley believed in being on the same page within months of working with him. During the team’s first training camp in Charleston, in 1991, Checketts and Riley were having lunch when Checketts’s cell phone rang, interrupting the talk. It was his wife, Deborah, who was about to buy a Chevy Suburban sport-utility vehicle, and wanted her husband’s input on color. Deborah had all but decided on the color green, and asked her husband if he was okay with that option. He was, and told her that would be a perfectly fine choice. But then Riley, who was sitting next to Checketts and had listened in enough to know the couple was choosing a color for a new vehicle, butted in. “What are you talking about? She can’t buy a green car, Dave. Green is the Celtics,” Riley said, referring to the team that had served as the archrival of his Showtime Lakers during the 1980s. Checketts laughed, before realizing Riley’s facial expression hadn’t changed. “I’m dead serious,” Riley said. So Checketts, still on the phone with his wife, told her she couldn’t get a green Suburban. When Deborah asked what other colors were available, the car salesman suggested red. So she asked Checketts how he felt about red. Again, Checketts was fine with that option. Again, Riley wasn’t. “What? Red is the Bulls,” said Riley, almost annoyed Checketts would even ask his take on the color. Checketts relented. “Don’t come home with anything but a blue one,” he told his wife, before hanging up. This was how Riley was wired. You were either all the way in on supporting his vision—down to the color of your car—or you weren’t.

Because sports and mythology often intertwine, the Game 6 narrative has often been one that evokes the best of a cheesy feel-good Hollywood production. Not only did Johnson take the jump ball, he won it, dribbled down the court, did a 360-degree midair flip and dunked over Julius Erving—blindfolded while eating a slice of cheesecake. Not quite.