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MIAMI — Walt “Clyde” Frazier still remembers how he met the late Willis Reed.
Frazier was arriving in New York for the first time after joining the Knicks. Reed was supposed to be his escort. He was an hour late picking the rookie up from the airport, but he made up for it.
“He took me out that night,” Frazier said. “Got me a date.”
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They hit the town at Wilt Chamberlain’s old nightclub in Harlem.
“It was a night I’ll never forget,” Frazier said.
And a relationship he won’t forget, either.
Reed, who starred for the Knicks from 1964 to 1974, died at 80 years old earlier this week. The news hit Frazier particularly hard. The two were teammates for eight seasons. They were together in locker rooms, hotels and at reunions. They knew each other for more than 55 years.
When Frazier churned out an all-time Game 7 performance in the 1970 NBA Finals, he gave Reed the credit. The eventual NBA Finals MVP inspired him with his notorious toughness, he said. Reed had famously fought through an otherwise debilitating thigh injury to hobble onto the court and play the beginning of the game.
As the crowd began to cheer, the struggle turned into a jog.
“The fans helped a guy run who could barely walk,” Frazier said.
Not long ago, even he didn’t realize how severely Reed was hurt at that moment.
“People thought it was premeditated because when he came on the court, we were just as flabbergasted as everybody else,” Frazier said. “I didn’t find out until recently that he had been there since 8 o’clock in the morning or something getting treatment.”
Frazier was kind enough to sit down with Knicks beat reporters, including The Athletic, before Wednesday’s game in Miami and share story after story about his longtime friend, Reed — including ones about that first night together in New York, detailed tales of that unforgettable Game 7, Reed’s passion for hunting and what that meant to the more squeamish Frazier, Reed’s handwriting and Frazier’s infatuation with it, and more.
No one says it better than Clyde, so we’ll leave the rest up to him.
Here is the full interview from Wednesday:
Thanks for doing this with us.
Thank you, guys. It’s been devastating. After seeing him on the video for the 50th anniversary, I didn’t know he was that far gone. Everybody was really surprised.
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I’m sure it still hits you and brings back a ton of memories.
Yeah, I’ve been meandering all day, just looking in bags. Took me so long to get dressed. I turned the TV off because every time I looked up, there was Willis. I had to turn the phone off. Everybody’s calling. I’m happy to be at the game. Maybe that’ll give me three hours where I can just react.
When I think of Willis, I think of when I first came to New York. I got drafted; he was the guy that picked me up at the airport. He was an hour late. I was waiting. He took me out that night. Got me a date. We went to Wilt’s place. So it was a night I’ll never forget. He was that type of person. I copied his handwriting, the way he writes his name. His tenacity on the court, always giving 110 percent, how he dealt with (the media) and the fans. He was a tremendous role model for me in that respect.
You copied his handwriting? How’d that go for you?
Yeah, he has great handwriting. If he writes 100 times, it’s the same. He carried his own pen. He carried a Sharpie. His handwriting was always the same. They don’t make them like that anymore. Kind guy, loan you his car, loan you his money. I remember when he picked me up (from the airport), we went by his house. He lived in Queens. I didn’t know his kids from the neighborhood kids. His house was like Grand Central Station. People were just in and out.
That’s how the man is. He shares everything. He was always loaning guys his car. (Knicks legend Dick) Barnett probably owes him thousands of dollars right now. He was always borrowing money from Willis. He was quite a man.
What was the last opportunity you had to speak with him?
The last reunion that we had, yeah. He was looking good then. He’d lost weight. He was keeping his weight down. So he was looking good.
When (Reed is) on TV, everyone is showing Game 7 (of the 1970 NBA Finals). They’re showing him beating up the entire Lakers bench. But for you, when you look back now, is it more those personal things that you remember?
Yeah, yeah, it’s the personal things. We know about his exploits as a player, but as a person, he was even better.
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You always had the rookies with him, taking them under his wing. Even with me, he’d take me out. He’s a big guy on going out, wining and dining, taking me out, telling me about the nuances of the game early on — how he’s going to kick my butt if I didn’t guard Oscar (Robertson). So, he kept us disciplined, man.
That was the main thing. There was never a downtime. And I was just thinking that Game 7 epitomizes a lot of things about Willis and New York, especially the fans. I was thinking just, the fans helped a guy run who could barely walk. Willis Reed, when he came out of the locker room, he could barely walk, and their cheers and stuff got him running.
He was the catalyst for us, because we were a team that was doubtful we could win without him. So, when we saw him, we perked up like, ‘We can do it.’ And when I look at me, a neophyte, he helped me have the game of my career, my life, a Game 7 that no one has ever had, the greatest Game 7 of anybody. (Note: Frazier went for 36 points, seven rebounds and 19 assists in the win.)
And I’ll never forget, I saw Wilt; I saw (Elgin) Baylor and (Jerry) West. When Willis came onto the court, they stopped doing what they were doing. They were so concerned. And I said to myself, ‘Man, we got these guys.’ And then he would come out and make his first two shots. The rest was history from there on, and that was Willis Reed, man.
I don’t know if anybody else would’ve played under those circumstances. People thought it was premeditated because when he came on the court, we were just as flabbergasted as everybody else. I didn’t find out until recently that he had been there since 8 o’clock in the morning or something getting treatment.
When we came in, he was in the training room, so everybody is asking him, ‘Are you gonna play?’ So (coach Red) Holzman said, ‘Hey, get out of here, guys. Whether he plays or not, you gotta play.’ He goes, ‘Go get mentally ready to play.’ They closed the door. So when we left the locker room, we had no idea Willis would come out.
In the playoffs, Holzman would always pull me aside. Like if we were playing the Bullets, he would go, ‘Clyde, forget about offense. Play defense on Earl (Monroe) tonight.’ This game, he told me, ‘Clyde, hit the open man. Get everybody involved. Move the ball.’ That was my instruction, but when the game started, I was the open man. Every time I came off a screen, I was open. I had no idea I was gonna have that many points or that type of game.
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I know he’s a big hunter and fisherman. I don’t know if it’s that toughness, but he was 6 foot 8, 6 foot 9 going against Wilt and Kareem. Are you still amazed that he could do what he did at his size?
It’s tenacity, man. He always (gave) 110 percent.
He really killed Kareem (Abdul-Jabbar). Kareem could do nothing with him. He’d get underneath Kareem, and he was shooting a 30-foot hook shot. You couldn’t get near the basket.
And Willis, whenever he played Chamberlain and (Bill) Russell, his whole demeanor was different. In the locker room he’s not talking, and you could just see how focused he was. That’s how he approached the game.
You know, we worked in the Catskills. Our job in the summer was Monday through Friday we go to all the different camps in the Catskills coaching. Willis, myself a guy named Em Bryant, Mike Riordan. So Willis was the guy who orchestrated everything. We stayed over (at) the camp drinking the bug juice, the whole thing. So I spent a couple of months with him like that.
Just seeing how when he played pickup games, the intensity that this guy would play with — he just didn’t want to lose. And like I said, before each game, he’s there psyching you up. ‘Hey, man. Come on, Clyde. You got to do this. You got to do that.’
I remember when Russell and the Celtics defeated us in (the) 1968-69 (season), we came back talking championship, because we felt like we were on a par with them and our whole thing after practice, we’d all go out and have beers and that’s what we were thinking, man. ‘This is gonna be our year. This is how we’re going to do it.’
You mentioned how he was there at the airport picking you up your first year. He was your vet at the start. How did your relationship develop over the years?
Well, I came in and I was making more money than Willis. But it didn’t matter. ‘Hey Clyde, get the basketballs. Hey Clyde, get the movie projector. Get to the back of the bus.’ You had to earn it.
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You had to earn the respect of the guys, and Holzman was the same way. He let the guys, the veteran players treat you like that until you gained their respect. So that’s just the way it was. And once they started to trust you and do that, then they kind of eased up on you. But early on, they were very tough.
Willis used to go hunting with a bow and arrow and all that, and I remember (legendary broadcaster) Curt Gowdy used to have this hunting show. He was on there. So (Willis) was always asking me ‘Clyde, you want to go hunting you want to go hunting?’ I go, ‘Yeah, D-E-A-R hunting.’ I’m not going to sit in a tree all day waiting for some (animal) to walk by.
He would go to very remote places in Alaska where they dropped you off and they come back in a week and picked you up, man. He was sincere about that. That was his passion.
Related reading
NBA 75: At No. 44, Willis Reed displayed tenacity, heart and grit for Knicks’ championship teams
(Photo of Willis Reed and Walt Frazier: Jimi Celeste / Patrick McMullan via Getty Images)
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