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Given new life, Boston forged a three-point lead with fifteen seconds
remaining in the second overtime – a two-possession difference in 1976, this
at a time when the three-point arc simply didn’t exist. A Dick Van Arsdale
basket cut Boston’s lead to a single point, and former Celtic Paul Westphal
stole the ball with less than 10 seconds to play. Curtis Perry suddenly
found the ball in his hands with the game on the line, and he took the
shot. The 14-foot jumper was off the mark, but Perry alertly followed his
shot and scored to put Phoenix up, 110-109. With four seconds remaining,
the Celtics did the only they that they could do – they raced the ball up
the court, where John Havlicek’s fifteen footer banked cleanly into the
basket as time expired. Pandemonium ensued. Fans poured onto the court to
celebrate. In the stands, hugs and handshakes and talk of raising another
banner to the rafters above. Jo Jo White, exhausted after playing nearly
the entire game, sat on the bench and removed his shoes and socks amid the
chaos. His teammates sprinted to the locker room. All of this while Powers
worked frantically to inform the coaching staffs of both teams that the game
wasn’t over, ruling that there was one second left on the clock when
Havlicek’s shot dropped through the net.
Phoenix may have been given a one second reprieve, and a chance to win the
game in the most dramatic fashion of all, but they still had to inbound the
basketball from underneath their own basket. Scoring in that situation?
The Suns didn’t have a chance. Everyone in the building knew it. But, as
order was restored on the court, an idea was hatched; Westphal lobbied his
head coach, John MacLeod, to let him call a timeout that didn’t exist. The
Suns had already spent its allotment and had none to take. The referees
would be forced to call a technical, which would give the Celtics a foul
shot, and then the Suns would be allowed to inbound the basketball at
midcourt – a far less daunting proposition with one second still on the
clock. MacLeod listened intently to Westphal’s epiphany, and then
acquiesced. It was a long shot, but it was also his team’s best option.
With order restored, White stepped to the line and calmly sank the
technical. The Celtics were now up by two, 112-110, and time was on their
side. One more second. One more stop. Phoenix had other ideas. They
inbounded the ball to Gar Heard, who launched a shot from beyond the top of
the key. With a flick of his wrist, the NBA’s first double-overtime Finals
game since 1957 morphed into an epic battle that would transform everyone
involved.
For Heinsohn, Heard’s shot was a bitter pill to swallow. Three key players
had already fouled out, and a fourth – rugged power forward Paul Silas –
would pick up his sixth personal with less than two minutes remaining. The
rest of his rotation was exhausted. Heinsohn looked down his bench,
considered inserting veteran forward Steve Kuberski, and then mysteriously
changed his mind. An instant later, the opportunity of a lifetime belonged
to the relatively inexperienced swingman from Long Beach State.
"I was definitely ready to go in,” McDonald says now, reflecting on the
moment that would define his basketball career. “As a role player, you are
always preparing for an opportunity to step in and help the team. You work
hard in practice, doing the drills and competing in the scrimmages, and you
want to be ready if your name is called. I honestly thought Heinsohn was
going to bring in Kuberski, but he waved me over instead. You don’t think
about anything at that point. You just go in and do the very best you can.”
All McDonald did in those 95 seconds was score six points, grab a pair of
key rebounds, and run the floor with reckless abandon – all while thriving
under the pressure of a national television audience. And although
McDonald’s deeds didn’t win the series, it was his Game 5 heroics that had
the basketball world talking long after the team’s 13th championship banner
had been raised to the Boston Garden rafters.
“It took a while for my contributions to completely sink in,” McDonald says,
smiling at the memory. “It’s something I’ll never forget, and it’s
something I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.”
Little did McDonald know then, but that brief, shining moment in the NBA
Finals would also be his last in a Celtic uniform. The team would cut him
in training camp the following fall, and he would play just nine more games
with the Milwaukee Bucks before retiring from the NBA. A clipped career,
perhaps, but one that produced a championship ring and a permanent place in
Celtic lore. And for those who think that McDonald was only about those 95
seconds of fame, it should be noted that McDonald played for two coaching
legends while at Long Beach State (Jerry Tarkanian and Lute Olson), earning
All-America honors and the distinction of being a first round pick in the
1974 NBA Draft. Add to that a successful post-basketball career, a lasting
marriage to his college sweetheart, and two grown children with thriving
careers of their own, and it’s easy to see that there’s more to Glenn
McDonald than his giant role in The Greatest Game Ever Played.
Celtic Nation is honored to bring you this interview.
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