Thirty Years Ago, The Sixers Left The Building In Style…

‘He’s going to call you at home.”

Those words in mid March of 1996 from the late “Superstat,” the legendary Harvey Pollack came true, because the next night at our New Jersey townhouse while I was feeding our newborn daughter Christine, the phone (in the time before cell phones) did ring, and on the other end of the line was Wilt Chamberlain. The NBA legend had promised Pollack he would call me to see what could be done to get him to the final game the Sixers would play in a full season at the Spectrum, which was 30 years ago this past Sunday (the team did play one additional game in the building, which they vacated for the new CoreStates Center right after April 19, a 104-101 win over the Bulls on March 13, 2009, but no one would have predicted that as the ’96 season ended).

In the end, Wilt did not come in for the last game, whether he wanted money or his schedule didn’t work out is lost to history. But what is not lost were those who were there for what was dubbed “The Final Fast Break” in a season that ended with an 18-64 record and, understandably, a 112-92 loss to the visiting Orlando Magic, led by Penny Hardaway and Shaquille O’Neal, who were on their way to the NBA Eastern Conference Finals (where they lost to Michael Jordan and the Bulls).

The night for the large crowd and for the 37…yes 37 was the TOTAL NUMBER OF employees listed in the Sixers Media Guide that season (today there are more than 37 in the basketball analytics group for the team) it was a chance to do something special for a long season. The teams young star, Jerry Stackhouse, broke his wrist and missed the end of the season, and the team led by Clarence Weatherspoon, Derrick Coleman and Vernon Maxwell was limping to a lottery pick (and a record number of players at the time on a roster in one season…27) which saw them win less games than three of Philly’s BIG FIVE college teams that year (despite the 82 game schedule).

The special night to close The Spectrum had so many carefully thought out moments. On hand was most of the 1982-83 Sixers Championship team and that was introduced at halftime, and other alumni, including members of the Warriors championship teams of 1947-48 and 1955-56 as well as  the Sixers’ other championship squad of 1966-67, were honored at different points during and after the game.

Tom Gola, Larry Costello, Luke Jackson, World B. Free, Marc Iavaroni, Bobby Jones, Maurice Cheeks, Julius Erving and Clarence Weatherspoon were introduced in succession after the final whistle and as the spotlight was passed from one to another, the basketball was passed until, finally Stackhouse slammed the ball home and fireworks went off.

Then, other oldtimers took turns cutting down the nets.

You can watch the entire ceremony, including the slightly longer form videos, here on this link I found on YouTube.

It includes the musical tributes from the night as well, a very proud evening for a franchise in the midst of change that went well beyond moving across the street to a new building.

Unknown to many, that game was both Lucas’ (and a staff that went on to achieve so many great things in Ron Adams, Mo Cheeks and Tom Thibodeau) and owner Harold Katz’s final home game with the team. The 76ers were sold to Comcast-Spectacor, led by Ed Snider, on April 24, 1996. The sale for approximately $130 million ended Katz’s 15-year ownership of the team, which began in July 1981.

It also was a true bottom for the organization, some of which, including myself, would be let go by the new regime as it moved from its offices in the bowels of Veterans Stadium to space in the new arena,  but it also started what was an almost forgotten version of “Trust the Process,” which eventually saw Allen Iverson drafted, players like Dikembe Mutombo and Aaron McKie brought in and Larry Brown added as coach for a team which was the toast of the NBA and reached the Finals themselves in 2001.

For me and my family, our three years in Philly didn’t end as planned, but the friendships and memories continue to last a lifetime and I wouldn’t trade them and those learnings from those years for anything.

And 30 years later, I can still hear Wilt’s voice on the phone.

The “Superstat” was rarely wrong.