I knew that Paul Westphal was special long before I ever had the pleasure of speaking with him about his basketball successes, of which there are many.  The year was 1989, and I caught a television news report that the Phoenix Suns were going to retire Westphal’s jersey to their ‘Ring of Honor’.  Westphal, of course, played his first three NBA seasons with the Boston Celtics, winning a championship in 1974 while studiously preparing to crack Team Green’s starting lineup.  I’d always admired Westphal – or Westy, as he is affectionately known to legions of fans – so I decided to keep tabs on his special day, knowing full-well that his number 44 would have been raised to the Boston Garden rafters had he remained a Celtic.

At some point following the retirement ceremony, I learned that Jerry Colangelo, the Suns’ longtime owner, had offered to lavish Westphal with gifts befitting his newly-minted status of Official Phoenix Suns Legend.  Westphal graciously declined, asking Colangelo to instead donate money to start an education fund with the Christian Family Care Agency, in the name of Armin Westphal, his late father.  That stuck with me.  In a world run amok with athletes who’ve lost touch with reality, Westphal was a clean and refreshing breath of fresh air.

Flash-forward to September 11th, 2003.  I have a date to interview Westphal, but I’m not sure whether he’ll remember my name or that we’re supposed to talk.  He’s a busy man, the head basketball coach at Pepperdine University, and fresh off an extended recruiting trip in Europe.  And on top of that, the Malibu-based school for which he works is now back in session.

My fears are allayed moments later, as Westphal points out that he’s been expecting me.  He is kind, courteous, and unpretentious – all of the things that I’d imagined him to be – and I find myself enraptured as he recounts his brief-but-eventful tenure with the Celtics.  I listen to him and I get the sense that he is genuinely enthused to be doing this interview – even though he’s done countless others before.  Our conversation ranges from his childhood in Redondo Beach, California, to matching wits with Phil Jackson and Michael Jordan in the NBA Finals.  Through it all, Westphal remains both spontaneous and upbeat, and one gets the sense that, deep down, Westy is still a Celtic at heart.