Not only were players unable to afford to gallivant through town after home games or on the road, they didn’t have the time or energy. Players had regular day jobs basketball was a side gig. Neither Coach nor James recalls fans rushing the court after big wins.
“I say ‘for what?’ ‘For inciting the crowd,’ ” Kundla says the nervous ref yelled back.īut, even as intense as things could get, pro basketball fan culture, and sports entertainment culture generally, was hardly a thing in the state or across the country yet. “He t’eed me up, gave me a technical,” says Kundla.
Between the two free throws, as Kundla and the crowd roared with disagreement, one ref, uneasy and unsure of what to do, turned to Kundla. Near the end of one game, Kundla disliked a foul call that sent the other team to the free-throw line. Without staff to even prevent a fan from grabbing a player, the primary security for the game and entire event were the referees.
“The fans cheered professionals, how they did things they were expected to do,” James says, “the fans acted accordingly.”Ĭoach remembers that when the fans did tip over, it could be absolute frenzy. He remembers how the crowd would swell when Russell’s Boston Celtics were in town or during the team’s last gasps with Baylor. He remembers how fans could easily walk down a couple of rows from their designated seat or close enough to get a little handsy with the players on court. James went to just about every home game, sitting with his mother in the wives’ and family section. But what comes to mind for him some 60 years later brings a smile too bright and lasting for decades to dim. He may repeat an anecdote or two or mishear a question. Kundla remembers challenges like building chemistry between star players Pollard and Mikan or slowing down opponents like Bill Russell and Bob Pettit with spunk and startling detail. Signs of aging become badges of endurance and grit. After a certain point, though, these marks of deterioration seem less as drawbacks, less as weakness begetting more, inevitable weakness, but added obstacles requiring even more strength to overcome.
For the professional athlete and anyone, the first signs of aging out of early-adulthood are a real bummer. In 2016, a century after he was born and 56 years after the Lakers’ departure, John Kundla sits in his wheelchair at Mainstreet Lodge Assisted Living in northeast Minneapolis. Without winning teams, going to a Lakers game just isn’t worth the night out anymore. Basketball and the NBA are not a big deal yet. The rookie and the Lakers are swept by Bill Russell’s Boston Celtics.Ĭome 1960, Kundla and Mikkelson are finally done, officially ending the era. Led by the rookie, the 1959 Lakers bounce back with 33 wins and a surprise return run to the NBA Finals. Mikkelson and Kundla hang on for one last year. The team was awarded the top pick in the following draft and chose Baylor. In 1958, the Lakers hit bottom, winning the fewest games in the league four years removed from winning three consecutive championships. What the 1960 Lakers do have to offer is a singular vision of vitality, strength, agility and the future: Elgin Baylor.