Willis Reed came to New York at a time when the Knick franchise was in long-standing disarray: in a sports town that was always known for “strength down the middle” (Mickey Mantle, Duke Snider, and Willie Mays; along with Allie Reynolds, Whitey Ford, Sal Maglie, and Don Newcombe), the center position for the Knicks progressed (as the Russell-Chamberlain era dawned) from the mediocrity of Connie Simmons and Sweets Clifton to the comical flailings of Walter Dukes, Ray Felix, Paul Hogue, Ron Shavlik, and the young Darrell Imhoff.
Year after year, in search of that elusive star center, Knick management wasted draft choices on stiffs, missing out on Jerry West and assorted others not comparable to West, but far better than the big men New York chose. As of 1963, they resolved not to be ruled by their need for a big man, but to draft the best player available. So they passed on Nate Thurmond in favor of Art Heyman!
Then, in 1964, along came Willis, only a second round draft pick, but Rookie of The Year in 1965, and the transformation began, though in many steps, with some mis-steps, like moving Willis to forward and teaming him with Walt Bellamy, whom they acquired from the Baltimore Bullets. The thinking was that since Willis was the best outside shooting center in the league, at 6’10, he could dominate power forwards and make room for Big Bells. What they did not understand was that Willis was — by nature — a center (strong enough not to be undersized, like long-time rival Wes Unseld right after him), whereas he lacked the quickness to get separation against power forwards that crowded him. Bellamy and Reed never had good nights on the same night.
Restored to his natural position after Bellamy was traded for Dave DeBusschere, Reed, along with DeBusschere, was now blessed with a very different core of team-mates: Walt Frazier, Bill Bradley, Dick Barnett, and later Earl Monroe and Jerry Lucas. Red Holzman’s great coaching also showed its effects.
When Willis finally retired after a year after a second title, I was elated to learn that he would not undergo a knee operation to try to return. He was already not the player who put the franchise on his back for half a decade, but instead part of a two headed monster center along with Jerry Lucas. Yet he was, as always, The Captain, and the true heart of a team that had been built around him.
After being Rookie of the Year in 1965, he began to flounder when Bellamy arrived, and his frustration was massive, resulting in a wild brawl with Rudy LaRusso that turned into a rampage the likes of which could not be imagined from anyone who lacked Reed’s massive girth and near-legendary strength.
He is of course best remembered for his heroic and inspirational performance in Game Seven of the 1970 Finals against Wilt Chamberlain’s Lakers. Having missed almost all of the previous two games because of an injury early in Game Five, he thrilled the Garden crowd by emerging from the locker room mid-way through warm-ups and hitting the first two Knick baskets, igniting Walt Frazier’s epic 36 point 19 assist masterpiece that brought the Knicks their first title.
Willis recorded 127 points in the first four games of that series, in which he was hurt early in Game Five and missed all of Game Six. That year, he was named MVP of the regular season, the playoffs, and the all-star game.
MVP awards accumulated that season only, but he was forever the Knick Captain and an inspiration to all who agonized with him throughout his journey and rejoiced in his and New York’s success. New York’s “strength down the middle” was no longer limited to the baseball diamond. May Willis find peace commensurate with the joy he brought us all.