Sometime around the Fourth of July, make it a point to watch the final episode of the HBO seven-part series John Adams. What stands out, in the final scenes (spoiler alert): the timeliness of the lead character’s and Thomas Jefferson’s deaths, coming as they do just hours apart on the 50th anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence.
That historical coincidence came to mind upon hearing the news of the passing of basketball legend Bill Walton, who died earlier this week at age 71 (and no, I’m not elevating him to the status of an American “Founding Father”).
The San Diego native and fabled UCLA center left the world just days after his cherished Pac-12 Conference did the same (on the field of play, that is, though there’s still unresolved antitrust litigation). As Walton was arguably the face of the conference as a television commentator and its lead advocate (“the conference of champions” being one of his broadcasting catchphrases), the concurrence of twin departures was hard to overlook.
About Bill Walton: few celebrated athletes have so colorfully displayed as many Golden State striations in terms of career and lifestyle.
Back in Walton’s adolescent years, San Diego’s abundant sunshine and outdoor courts gave him ample opportunity to indulge in a sport that he considered a personal religion (just as, decades earlier, a skinny San Diego kid named Ted Williams made the fine art of hitting a baseball his holy pursuit).
As the decade of the 1970s began, Walton would take his talents due north to UCLA, playing under tutelage of the legendary coach John Wooden at a time when that school dominated the world of college basketball. As a collegiate sophomore and junior, Walton led UCLA to back-to-back NCAA titles, his teams winning their first 73 games. Off the court, he was no stranger to the era’s vocal brand of student activism: one anti-Vietnam protest led to his arrest.
As a professional player, Walton experienced frustration as a San Diego Clipper, with his playing days brought to a halt by chronic foot injuries. That would lead the athlete to a different “court”—two years at Stanford Law School (it was the author David Halberstam’s suggestion), during which time his foot healed, prompting his decision to ditch the pursuit of a JD for one last stint in the NBA with the Boston Celtics.
As for that California lifestyle, Walton was a fervent bicyclist (picture a seven-foot graying redhead high atop a 70-centimeter customized bike) and a trail hiker. One constant throughout his life: an undying love of tie-dye shirts and a certain Bay Area musical act (Grateful Dead drummer Bill Kreutzmann called him “Celebrity Deadhead Number One”).
Furthermore, Walton was not silent about the plights of his beloved Golden State, particularly homelessness. A year ago, Walton introduced a plan—Sunbreak Ranch, he called it—that would relocate San Diego’s homeless population outside of the city (anyone who refused to move would go to jail). However, the idea didn’t fly with the Marine Corps, which didn’t salute the idea of a 500-acre plot of land at Air Station Miramar as a possible homeless encampment.
But whereas Walton’s passing is a moment of sadness, the demise of the Pac-12 Conference is more a study in greed and forlornness.
The greed? The conference’s two flagship programs—UCLA and USC—started the Pac-12’s unraveling by relocating to the Big Ten amid the promise of more revenue. By the time the dust settled, 10 of the 12 conference schools had departed for similarly greener pastures (the Big 12 and Atlantic Coast Conference), leaving Oregon State and Washington State as a pair of NCAA Division I waifs.
As for forlornness, it’s the reality that bigger paychecks and a heightened television presence come at a heavy price: the end of traditional California-based rivalries.
In this new world order, in which USC participates in the midwestern-centric Big Ten while Stanford toils away in the southern/eastern-oriented ACC, a rivalry that dates back to 1905 is no more. Likewise, California’s two most prominent public universities (Cal-Berkeley and UCLA) will no longer face off on the gridiron—a tradition that dates back to the first year of Franklin Roosevelt’s presidency.
But another victim in the demise of the Pac-12 conference is its unique brand of excellence—what Walton was getting at with his frequent recitation of the “conference of champions” mantra.
As of early May, a trio of Pac-12 universities (Stanford, UCLA, and USC) claimed the most national championships. Those three schools plus Cal-Berkeley also lead the way among universities that have earned the most Olympic medals.
This record speaks to a state with universities who take pride in overall athletic excellence—with programs that are deep and diverse—as opposed to schools (and conferences) that are seemingly more obsessed with the money-making king of college sports: football. (Among Pac-12 defectors, only the University of Oregon ranks among the nation’s top 20 schools in terms of total revenue—a list that’s headed by football-mad Ohio State, Texas, Alabama, and Michigan.)
Bill Walton openly lamented the fate that befell his beloved conference (actually it was a leaner Pac-8 back in his playing days), so much so that he penned a statement (“UCLA’s Wrong Turn”) lamenting his alma mater’s decision to forsake its heritage.
In Walton’s words:
I don’t believe that joining the Big 10 is in the best interest of UCLA, its students, its athletes, its alumni, its fans, the rest of the UC system, the State of California, or the world at large,
some of the many reasons why I am opposed to UCLA’s attempted move to the Big 10 are, in no particular order, . . .
- the exponential increase in travel on UCLA’s student-athletes will hurt them physically, mentally and in their overall lives,
- the negative impact of the excessive travel will extend to families, friends, fans, alumni and everyone else,
- the increased costs of joining the Big 10 will negate the projected increased revenue assumptions of this proposed move,
- this proposed move to the Big 10 is contrary to UCLA’s and the entire UC System’s state and professed environmental sustainability goals,
- this proposed move to the Big 10 has serious negative implications for the University of California, Berkeley
and flies in the face of the supposed team concept that has always been a part of the California Dream, plan and business model,
- this proposed move to the Big 10, is all about football, and money,
- what about the other 24 sports and 600+ student-athletes at UCLA who are responsible for 99+% of UCLA’s National Championships, . . .
I went to UCLA – gladly, willingly, and proudly, it was my dream, that dream never included the Big 10.
So much for one Bruin’s dream.
Requiescat in pace, Bill Walton—and, for that matter, the uniqueness of Pac-12 excellence.
