Written By:  Michael D. McClellan | Imagine doing something so well that you are granted membership into one of the world’s most exclusive fraternities, where only one in every 10,000 is selected to perform before an audience of millions.  Now imagine yourself sharing the stage with the preeminent talent in your chosen profession, at a time when history unfolds before you in unprecedented abundance, as if manna from heaven.  You are there, in the middle of it all, plying your trade in the company of greatness.  You know full well the good fortune of your circumstance, and understand that a lifetime dedication to your craft has put you in this, the most enviable of positions. 

Who wouldn’t want to be you?  Your stage is one of sport’s holiest cathedrals.  Your teammates are the reigning world champions, and you have joined them in their quest to repeat and build a dynasty.  Your debut comes off as scripted in Hollywood, with shots falling from almost impossible distances and the throaty, hometown crowd roaring its approval.  Future hall-of-fame players slap you on the back, wish you well and accept you as one of their own.  And when that magical game is finally over, you walk away secure in the fact that you’ve made the most of a golden opportunity.

 Your name is Conner Henry.  And you, my friend, have arrived.

For legions of basketball junkies, simply making it onto the Boston Celtics roster is the dreamiest of dream jobs.  It is a franchise steeped in history, a standard-bearer in the realm of championships, an icon so resplendent in its deal-closing that even now, nearly twenty years removed from its last title, the rest of the NBA can only look up at those sixteen banners with a mixture of aspiration and envy.  Now imagine being a Boston Celtic when the roster is populated with names such as Bird, McHale, Parish and Walton.  These men are the Mount Rushmore of low-post play, and here you are, feeding the ball to them in practice.  In games they find you for spot-open threes, confident that you will bury the shot if given the opportunity.  This would be enough for almost anyone, but there are more surprises to come; perhaps no defending champion in NBA history battled as much adversity as the 1986-87 Boston Celtics, as a valiant playoff run would leave them two games short of their coveted repeat.

Most of us can only dream of reaching the NBA.  Henry lived it.  He was there the night that Larry Bird stole the ball from Isiah Thomas, and he was there to witness that dagger of a baby hook by a man named Magic.  The blast-furnace otherwise known as the Boston Garden?  Henry can tell you all about June basketball in the fabled Garden, about the heat and the rats and the obstructed view seating that gave the place its charm.

Conner Henry’s journey from unabashed hoop addict to solid NBA player began in Claremont, California, where his father worked as a college professor at Claremont McKenna College.  It was here that he gained unfettered access to the athletic facilities, gravitating to the basketball court in large part because of his lithe frame.  Henry played for long hours, sometimes with others, sometimes alone, always dreaming of one day making it onto the game’s biggest stage.  His idol was “Pistol” Pete Maravich, and Henry molded his game after the flashy guard, landing at UC Santa Barbara with a repertoire of fancy passes and a reputation for deadly long-range accuracy.  He started right away, overcame an injured knee during his junior season, and finished atop the career assists mark in the school’s record books.

The Houston Rockets drafted Henry in the fourth round of the 1986 NBA Draft – the same draft in which the Celtics would draft Maryland star Len Bias.  Henry played just 18 games in Texas before landing in Boston, where he quickly made a name for himself as a three-point specialist.  Close friends with Dennis Johnson, Henry found himself on the Celtics’ roster courtesy of the NBA’s 10-day contract.  Facing the Milwaukee Bucks in his inaugural home game with Team Green, Henry drained his first shot – a three-pointer – and energized the Boston Garden faithful with his hard-nosed play.  He would finish the contest by converting 4-of-five from behind the arc, finally exiting the court as the sellout crowd showered him with the spontaneous chant of “Ten more days.”

For Henry, life has come full circle; now the Associate Director of Career Counseling at Claremont McKenna, the former Boston Celtic is back home and doing what he loves.  It is his new dream job, but the memories of the old one are still very much alive.  He can close his eyes and see Robert Parish, hobbled by a severe ankle sprain, battle Bill Laimbeer and the Detroit Pistons on one leg.  He can see Kevin McHale gutting out another superb performance on a broken foot.  He can see Bird’s steal and Magic’s hook, and he can take satisfaction in knowing that he was there as hoop history was being written.

The rest of us should be so lucky.

Please tell me about your childhood, and how you came to be interested in basketball.

My father was a math professor in Decator, Georgia.  He taught there until 1959, at which point he accepted a similar position in Claremont, California, so I literally grew up on the Claremont McKenna campus.  Our house was directly behind the football field, which meant that you had to walk through the campus to get to it.  I was involved in athletics very early in my life, serving as a ball boy in all three major sports at the age of five.

Growing up in a college environment allowed me to gain access to the athletic department and all of the facilities, and it wasn’t long before I gravitated to the basketball court.  The fact that it was a safe environment allowed me to flourish as a young child.  I was also fortunate to have some fantastic mentors in my life at that time, coaches and students who worked with me and helped to improve the different facets of my game.  I remember playing basketball in the gym at all hours.  I’d play until they kicked me out, which was usually around midnight, and then I’d run across the football field, crawl through a hole in the fence and slip in the backdoor to our house.  That was my routine for ten-to-twelve years.  It was a blessing to be in that place at that time, and to be around so many good people.

In four years at UC Santa Barbara you became the career leader in assists, and your 1,236 points ranks eighth all-time.  Why US Santa Barbara?

I was fortunate to be recruited by three Division I schools.  For me, it was a true thrill to visit each campus and also go through the selection process.  I came away from it knowing that Santa Barbara had the worst program of the three and that I needed to play, not sit and watch. I made my decision to go there and hopefully play right away.  That was the most important thing.  I could have gone to either of the other schools but I knew that I wasn’t going to play right away, and that it might be a year or longer before I’d see any meaningful minutes.  By choosing Santa Barbara I only had to wait six games into my freshman year before I started playing.

How difficult was your adjustment to major college hoops?

There was a huge adjustment period in terms of jumping from high school to college basketball.  I wasn’t the biggest or the strongest, and initially the coaching staff didn’t know where to play me.  I was between positions in many ways, a shooting guard with point guard instincts, and this presented some early problems as they tried to figure out what to do with me.  We were so bad I was the only on who could get the ball up the court so eventually I played more and more point.  Because of that change I was able to improve my game and eventually play basketball in the NBA.

Tell me about your time at UC Santa Barbara.

UC Santa Barbara may not have been a premiere basketball program in terms of championships and All-Americans, but we had some great battles during my four years there.  We played the University of Houston when the team was ranked Number 1 in the country and also boasted Phi Slamma Jamma.  They came to Santa Barbara with Hakeem (then known as Akeem) Olajuwon and Clyde Drexler, and everyone expected them to run us out of our own building.  Our tallest player was 6’-7”, and he had to battle Olajuwon on the blocks.  It was a great atmosphere.  The Thunderdome was sold out, and they were still letting people in – the fire department must have turned its eye in another direction for this game [laughs].  We jumped out to a huge lead, and were up by 19 points at halftime.  We played tentative after intermission and nearly pulled off the upset, losing by two points.  I ended up having a really good game and with a number of scouts there some of the NBA teams had finally seen me play.  I guess that was the first time people had seen me play against a big time collegiate team.

The coaching staff was phenomenal.  Ben Howland, the current head coach at UCLA, was an assistant coach at Santa Barbara at that time.  Jerry Pimm was our head coach – he’d come over from the University of Utah, where he had developed NBA talents such as Tom Chambers, Danny Vranes and Pace Mannion.  These were outstanding coaches – they pushed me to get into the weight room, which helped add fifteen pounds of muscle to my thin frame [laughs].  I was really skinny.

Former athletic director Jim Romeo stands out in mind during that period as well.  He provided so much encouragement to a number of players on that team.  To this day we are very good friends and we continue to discuss my team here as well as the NBA.

You injured your knee during your junior year.  For a basketball junkie, what was it like not being able to play?

It was very frustrating.  The injury occurred during practice – I was in a full sprint when someone clipped my heel from behind and I fell hard on my left knee.  I was lucky in one respect, because I only stretched the ligament and didn’t actually tear it.  The doctor equipped me with a steel knee brace so that I could continue to play.  The brace was considered top of the line back then, but by today’s standards it was quite archaic.  But it enabled me to continue playing which, in my eyes, was the most important thing at the time.  I didn’t redshirt that season but, in retrospect, I probably should have taken the time to recover.  I just didn’t fully understand the dynamics of the injury.  As it was, the team’s starting point guard was dragging that big, cumbersome brace up and down the court [laughs].

You were drafted in the fourth round of the 1986 NBA Draft by the Houston Rockets.  You played impressively in the Rockets rookie camp, averaging 16 points and 3 assists per game.  Ironically, a strong preseason showing against the Celtics helped you make the team.  Did you do anything special to celebrate?

Not really.  It was an uncertain time – the Rockets had drafted Buck Johnson from Alabama with their first round pick, and had also taken Dave Feitl from Texas El-Paso in the second round.  Anthony Bowie from Oklahoma was selected in the third, so entering camp I knew that all of these guys had a better chance of making the team than I did.  Because of this, my attitude from the outset of training camp was to let it all hang out.  All four of us made the team which was surprising because they had just gone to the Finals against the Celtics and got spanked.  I think few people thought they would keep all of us but they did.

How I ended up in Houston was a funny twist of luck.  Bill Fitch drafted me after watching a tape of one of our games.  He’d requested the tape to take a look at the point guard on the other team, but he was intrigued by the way I played.  He made some calls based on the tape and then selected me in the fourth round.  To this day I have very good memories of Coach Fitch.  He had confidence in me, and he showed it by playing me at the one.  He knew that I could play the point and also shoot the three, and it didn’t hurt that big guards were the norm at the time.  So I had size and not much speed (laughs), which helped, and I had that good game against the Celtics.  I made the team, and my rookie year in the NBA was just beginning.

The Celtics signed you to a 10-day contract. On January 7, 1987, you made your Boston Garden debut by going 4-of-5 from behind the arc.  The Boston Garden crowd, which had become famous for its chants of “Larry” and “Beat LA”, where suddenly chanting “Ten More Days!”

It was a magical night.  I had no idea something like that might happen, although we were playing the Milwaukee Bucks and I had a feeling that I’d get into the game.  I was very excited, very nervous, but once I got into the game I was able to settle down.  I got my legs underneath me, which also helped, but the main thing was being a member of the Boston Celtics.  When you have players like Larry Bird, Robert Parish and Kevin McHale to throw the ball to, you don’t feel as much pressure to go in and make things happen.  They command so much attention that good movement and ball rotation will put me in a position to succeed that night.  And that’s what happened.  I got open and the first one went in.  That relaxed me, and I was able to flow with the game the rest of the way.  I kept moving and kept getting looks, and the shots kept going in.  I’ll never forget the chants from the fans.  It was incredible.  By the end of the game I was breathing extremely hard because I was somewhat out of shape.  I received a lot of support from that night.

Danny Ainge had this to say about you following that performance:  “He’s a great shooter.  He reminds me of Pistol Pete with his long hair, his outside shooting, and his behind the back passes.”  Looking back, how does that make you feel?

It’s a wonderful compliment.  For Danny to compare me to Pistol Pete, that’s something I’ll always cherish.  My dad really liked Maravich, and growing up I had a Pistol Pete poster on my bedroom wall.  I still have the clipping where Danny made that comment.  It means a lot, especially because Maravich was my idol.  I felt my game was similar to his in many respects (no where that good though)– while I was best known for my shooting, I considered passing my best skill.  I felt that I did a good job of seeing the action develop in front of me, and that I instinctively knew what to do with the basketball.

Danny has been an amazing basketball executive in Boston.  He received some criticism in the early-going, and much of it was unjustified.  He knew what the team needed to change in order to win another championship, and he was unafraid to make the controversial move.  He landed Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett, and the Celtics won the championship. Then he went out and got a great coach in Brad Stevens. He knows how to build championship-caliber teams.

You were ahead of your time in terms of your three-point shot. Were you always comfortable shooting from long range?

Always – I was very fortunate to have good instruction at a very early age.  As a young child I followed the classic approach, starting close to the basket and working my way out, but along the way I was taught to shoot the ball properly.  I was taught to groove my stroke at a certain range, get comfortable and confident with it, and then move back and start the process all over again.  Naturally, my range increased as my size and strength increased.

Being so sleight physically – a good breeze could probably knock me down [laughs] – I didn’t challenge the bigger guys underneath the basket.  Shooting was the thing that helped me to make a name for myself.  And the farther out the better.  When I joined the Celtics, KC Jones was very supportive of me in this regard.  He gave me his blessing to launch those shots from downtown, as long as they came within the flow of the offense – and as long as they went in [laughs].

Let’s talk music.  Has your taste in music changed since your playing days, and what do you listen to now?

My musical tastes have evolved over the years.  I still listen to a lot of classic rock, but my tastes have grown to include a broad range of music – I listen to Van Morrison, rhythm & blues, Earth, Wind & Fire, good country, Train, Creed, too.  When I’m in my car I find myself listening more and more to talk radio, which has to do with being a father and getting older.  Being an assistant coach I also hear all the current music that the boys play in the gym.  Music still is a big part of my life.

You once said that if you went to the moon, one of the people you’d take with you would be Dennis Johnson, because DJ would keep everybody laughing.  Please tell me about Dennis Johnson.

Dennis was great to me when I arrived in Boston.   He helped me acclimate myself to the team and to the city.  As it turned out, DJ was the first cousin of a good friend in California, so he sort of took me under his wing and took care of me.  I lived with him that first month in Boston.  He helped me understood what the team was trying to accomplish within the offensive and defensive schemes and the overall mentality. Dennis was a very complex person – he could be funny, serious or encouraging with me, depending on the situation.  He showed the same attributes with team, and was very good in his role as a team leader.  He had a tremendous amount of character and the players fed off of that.  I had a great admiration for Dennis Johnson as a player and person, and it was a very sad day when I learned of his passing.

The Celtics swept past the Chicago Bulls in the opening round of the 1987 NBA Playoffs.  What was Michael Jordan like in that series?

At that point in his career, Michael Jordan was the most physically dominating player in the game.  He relied so much on his physical attributes – he simply jumped over, around or through the opposition, depending on what was needed to reach the hoop.  The Bulls at that time were still a work in progress – the Celtics simply had too many weapons for them to overcome – but they were never out of a game with Michael Jordan on the floor.  He brought that tongue-wagging confidence to the court.

I remember playing in the old Chicago Stadium and facing the Bulls – Kevin McHale was unstoppable in the low post, I think he finished with 52.  He was pumped up and Larry told him to play some “D”.  It was hilarious because the next time we played the Bulls Larry had 36 at half time and the game was basically over.  There was a lot of smack being talked on and off the court which kept all of us loose.  Watching Kevin and Larry play that year was as exciting as watching Jordan almost [laughs].

You were with the Celtics a relatively short period of time, but you were there to experience some of the most memorable moments in team history.  One of them occurred in Game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals against the Detroit Pistons, when Larry Bird stole the ball from Isiah Thomas.  Please take me back to that play.

We had the lead when Larry drove baseline and missed a shot.  Rick Mahorn rebounded the ball and immediately called timeout, and the Pistons came back with a play for Isiah Thomas.  He knocked down a 17-foot jumper with 17 seconds remaining, putting Detroit up by one.  Larry went hard to the basket, but his shot was blocked by Dennis Rodman, and then Mahorn knocked the ball off of Jerry Sichting’s leg and out of bounds.  We all felt it was over.  We needed a miracle at that point, and that’s exactly what happened.  Larry stepped in and intercepted Isiah’s inbounds pass, and then flipped it to DJ, who was alert enough cut to the basket.

From the sideline all we could do was hope for a foul or a steal, but with so little time left the likelihood of either happening was slim to none.  A foul, maybe, but a steal?  At the time you don’t realize the true magnitude of something like that – you’re overcome with excitement, but you just don’t fully grasp the historical significance of that play.  It’s only later that you realize what you’ve been a part of.  When I see the play today, I can look at it and know that I was there.  It’s a great feeling.

Robert Parish injured his right ankle in the semi-finals against Milwaukee, hobbling him for the rest of the playoffs.  Because of Larry’s incredible steal, many people forget that Parish practically played Game 5 on one foot.  What did Robert’s presence on the court mean to the team in that game?

Everyone knew that Robert was hurting, but all the credit goes to him for grinding it out through the pain.  That was typical Robert – he’s the type of person who never complains, regardless of the situation, and he refused to let an injury become a distraction in the playoffs.  He approached his role on the Celtics in the same way – he knew that Larry and Kevin were going to get the most attention offensively, and that he was there to do all the little things needed to win.  He didn’t dominate the box score, but he rebounded, blocked shots and ran the court as well as any big man ever.  Larry’s steal saved the series, but without “Chief”, the Celtics wouldn’t have made it to the Finals that year.

Bill Laimbeer mugged Larry Bird early in that series, and Parish later retaliated by clubbing Laimbeer to the floor.  Please take me back to both of those events.

Detroit’s bruising style of play had never really existed at that level.  The referees were letting them define their style, which was very physical and based on intimidation.  The smothering defenses that you see today have their roots in what the Pistons were doing back then.  Every possession was critical, and defending the basket became even more important than actually scoring on the offensive end.  The Pistons would lay guys out, which is what Laimbeer did to Birdie in that series.  Robert retaliated back in Boston, which was to be expected.  There was a tremendous amount of animosity between the teams.  The Celtics were the established power in the East, and the Pistons were the up-and-coming bad boys with a reputation for physical play.  That series was a tremendous battle – we were able to hold them off that year, but the Pistons finally broke through the following season and reached the NBA Finals.

That 1987 playoff run was brutal.  The Celtics battled the Milwaukee Bucks over seven games before moving on to the young and hungry Detroit Pistons in the Eastern Conference Finals.  With only one day off between series and so many injuries to key players, where was the team’s collective psyche as it prepared to face the Lakers in the Finals?

We had more than our share of nagging injuries.  It’s tough to speak for the other guys, but that Milwaukee series was incredibly tough.  If we had gotten through it in five games, then who knows what might have happened.  The extra rest might have made a huge difference in terms of healing and getting ready to do battle in the next round.  Kevin played on a broken foot, Robert had ankle problems, and Larry’s back was killing him – when he wasn’t playing he was getting therapy to help keep him on the floor.  The team was exhausted by the time it reached the NBA Finals.  The Lakers were far more healthy, making it through the Western Conference relatively unscathed.  They were also a much more rested squad.  They jumped on us from the outset and we were never able to recover.

The 1987 NBA Finals was the first to use the 2-3-2 format.  After being beaten soundly in the first two games, played at the Forum in Los Angeles, the Celtics fought back to win Game 3 in Boston.  The Celtics were clinging to a one-point lead in Game 4 when Magic Johnson hit his now-famous baby hook.  That shot gave the Lakers a commanding 3-1 series lead.  Take me back to that shot, and the ensuing shot by Bird that missed at the buzzer.

The game came down to those two possessions.  Magic got the ball, turned, did that drive-whirl and let go with the baby hook.  Kevin and Robert played it perfectly, both of them extending as far as they could to defend the shot, but the ball went over both of them and into the basket.  It was a terrible blow to us, and we felt it long after the game was over.  Instead of squaring the series at two games apiece, we had to win that third game in the Boston Garden and then win two more in Los Angeles.  Given the physical condition of our team, it was just too much to expect.

Larry’s shot from the corner almost rescued that game for us.  He had a clean look at the basket, and he was set up perfectly.  It was right on target, just the slightest bit too long, and that was the ball game.  But even though he missed, you wouldn’t want anyone else taking that shot.  Larry Bird was the greatest clutch shooter in the history of the game.

On the play prior to Magic’s baby hook, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was fouled.  He made the first foul shot but missed the second, and the ball was batted out of bounds by Kevin McHale.  To me it looked like it could have gone out on a Laker.  Did the referees make the right call?

The call went against us, so we had to deal with the reality of the situation.  As players, we’re taught to secure the rebound, and in this case we just weren’t able to do that.  It’s one of those plays that just kills you, and makes you realize that every possession is as important as the rest.

Please tell me about the Boston Garden, and what it was like during the playoffs.

The Garden was like a very old high school gym.  The lighting wasn’t the best, and the floor was soft, but those things played to our advantage.  During the playoffs it was always a little hotter – in some cases a lot hotter.  It was damp, it was humid, and it was a very tough place for the opposition to play.  It was also a magical place to play – you could always count on the buzz from the crowd, an electricity that just made it special to be there.  I’ll always cherish those memories.  I had friends who drove three thousand miles to see those playoff games, which made it even better.

What is your greatest memory of Larry Bird?

The second game of the 1987 season.  We were in D.C. to play the Washington Bullets, and the game went into double-overtime.  Bird had an incredible game, hitting a jumper to send the game into overtime, and then hitting another to send it into the second overtime.  I was on the court at the end of that frame – I was being used as a decoy because of my threat as an outside shooter.  Birdie took the shot, of course, and won the game for us.  To me, that was Larry Bird at his finest.

Everyone I’ve spoken to has there own favorite story about Red Auerbach.  Is there one that you would like to share?

It’s interesting, but I only spoke to Red twice in the year that I was with the team.  I was walking into practice at Brandeis University one morning when I saw him.  I said ‘good morning’, and Red said, “How’s your back, kid?”  I told him that it was getting better, and he seemed satisfied with that.  End of conversation [laughs].

The Celtics headed for Bermuda following that difficult playoff run.  You had the opportunity to play Bermuda’s famous Mid-Ocean course with KC Jones, Jimmy Rodgers and Chris Ford.  Please tell a little about that trip, and also a little about each of these men.

I remember the golf course being spectacular, and I remember pink sand on the beach.  It was a great opportunity to visit with the coaches outside of the basketball season.  It was enjoyable.  K.C. was very funny, but very direct.  He’s a man that I admire very much.  Jimmy talked with me a lot – I was his pet project in many ways.  Jimmy was also known as the defensive coach for the Celtics, and he really worked with me in this area.  I couldn’t guard my shadow!!  Chris was the crazy one [laughs].  He wasn’t far removed from his playing days, so he was still somewhat in a player mode.  He had that mentality.  We’d always go at it before and after practice, the two of us talking junk and shooting on the court.  Chris had a very good player rapport.

Final Question:  You’ve achieved great success in your life.  If you could offer one piece of advice on life to others, what would that be?

 Slow down, listen more, and work extra hard on your weaknesses.  If you’re not a good friend, work hard to become a good friend.  If you’re not a good student, work on improving your grades.  If you can only drive to your right, work hard on using your left hand.  If you’re open, shoot the rock from deep!