Rest in Peace, Sweet Camelot

Eddie watched, as the crowd passed him. They were bunched together on the spiral climb up to The Boston Garden floor; inching their way upward, more like spawning salmon, than an every-day, up and down the street, ordinary line. It was far better watching as folks piled out of what was popularly called The Gardens. There was that push of humanity, like air rushing from a slow flat, just wanting to get out of that space.

At the top, it opened up and one could decide whether to go right or left, or up and down. Going up would take you to a promenade section and these were good seats, though not on top of the action. Better for basketball and the World Champion Boston Celtics than the not so successful Boston Bruins. It was the early 1960’s and the one thing one could see upon arriving upstairs, besides checking where the Men’s rooms were, and where the beer stands were, was strategically placed overhead signs. They showed the Boston Celtics on the left side at the top of the NBA, and the right side, the National Hockey League with the Boston Bruins entrenched, it seemed like forever, in last place.

Going up would take you to seats that were, as the Celtics radio guy, Johnny Most would say, “high above courtside”. Great seats if you had a pair of binoculars, though, to be honest, watching hockey was pretty cool, if you didn't bend over to far.

Eddie was waiting for his friend, Dave, who had two tickets for the Celts game against the Los Angeles Lakers in game one of the 1962-63 NBA Finals, but he was late. All Eddie knew was that Dave told him to stand out front until he got there. At least it’s in the 50’s and not raining, or snowing, Eddie thought to himself, as he tuned his Japanese radio, to 1510 AM, WMEX just in time to hear Gerry & The Pacemakers sing How Do You Do IT?

Just as the song ended, Eddie felt a nudge in his back and it was Dave, holding up two tickets for the game. Dave said, “let’s go, you’re holding us up”, with a little chuckle in his voice. We joined the other salmon and, soon, we were drinking an icy cold Narragansett, just to wet our whistles.

Warm ups were just concluding, as we took our seats in the middle of the promenade, just off of half court, not bad. Dave stood and applauded as Bill Russell was announced, and leaned over to tell me that “without Bill, the Celts would be nothing”, I stood and agreed.

The first period was a rough one and the Laker’s could do nothing wrong; but the Celts fought back in the second quarter and took a single digit lead (55-54) going into half time.

Dave and I went out to grab a half time beer and he started talking about this guy he met while working, unloading trucks, down at Commonwealth Pier. Seems this guy, nicknamed named “Frenchy”, was all wound about politics and especially French politics and wouldn’t stop talking about the U.S. and especially the president, John F. Kennedy, and how he thought that JFK should have interceded on behalf of some guy named Jean Bastien-Thiry, over there in France. I asked Dave “who the heck is this Jean Bastien-Thiry”, and Dave said he didn’t know, but evidently, he had made an attempt to assassinate French President Charles de Gaulle, and failed and he and five others were tried and convicted and sentenced to death, but de Gaulle pardoned the five, but that this Jean Bastien-Thiry was executed by firing squad, a few days after the trial. Dave went on to say that Frenchy thought that our president should have stepped in and asked de Gaulle to commute Thiry’s sentence too. Dave continued, after work, at a pub in Southie, Frenchy kept on spouting that JFK was responsible and somebody should do something about it. I said to Dave, “why would you go to an Irish bar to keep talking to this guy?”, “especially about negative stuff about our own John Kennedy”, Dave said sheepishly, “he was buying Eddie, what could I do?” Dave continued to say that Frenchy got a little too loud and a couple of regulars assisted him out the door, in an uncomplimentary fashion. So, I said, “what did you do?” Dave said, “the only thing I could do, ordered another Guinness.”

The second half started and any talk of Frenchy and presidents and assassinations disappeared as the Celtics slipped behind 86-85 ending the third period. Home court advantage and the best fans in the world, along with Bill Russell’s aggressive rebounding, brought the Garden to cheers as we won 117-114.

Leaving the Boston Gardens and heading over to North Station, Dave said, "Frenchy might be able to get some more tickets, if the Celts bring the series back to Boston in a week." I said “great”, shook hands and headed for my train, as Dave headed for the closest bar.