The Sonics’ 1979 Title is the penthouse atop Seattle‘s 41-year NBA residency. That penthouse would never have existed without a sturdy foundation, a skyscraper improbably constructed out of rubble. This is the story of that 1977-78 foundational Sonics season – and its architect.
Quotes are from the archives of the Seattle Times and Seattle Post-Intelligencer.
Lenny Wilkens had precious few believers when he added coach to his role as Sonics player personnel director early in the 1977-78 season.
“I had given up. I was already preparing for the next year, trying to think of different things we could do.” Who was this nay-sayer? Only Sonics owner Sam Schulman. “When Lenny said he was going back into coaching, I thought he had lost his mind. I didn’t think he should touch the job with a 10-foot pole.” That Negative Nancy was actually named Marilyn – Lenny Wilkens’ wife.
If those comments sounded pessimistic, here’s one more. “Looking back to Nov. 30 and thinking about the playoffs, you didn’t think we’d be in it and I didn’t think we’d be in it. Let’s just be honest about it.” The speaker of this truth was… Lenny Wilkens.
Really, when Wilkens took on the task just after Thanksgiving, who could blame Lenny or Marilyn or Sam – or anyone else who followed the team – for their low expectations. The Sonics, winners of only five of their first 22 games, were that metaphorical pile of rubble. With nowhere to build but up, Wilkens began to unlock the talent he knew was better than their record.
All-Nickname Team Runs Roughshod Over NBA
Wilkens the player personnel director had actually done the soon-to-be coach Wilkens a great offseason favor in roster construction. He acquired John “J.J.” Johnson from Houston for a pair of draft picks. He drafted Jack “Goldilocks” Sikma out of Illinois Wesleyan. A multi-player & picks deal with Denver landed “Human Eraser” Marvin Webster and “Papa Bear” Paul Silas. He signed “The Wizard” Gus Williams as a free agent. Just as important, he vetoed a planned trade of “Downtown” Freddy Brown.
Blessed with the league’s best nicknames, the Sonics under Wilkens tore through the NBA. Seattle won 18 of its next 22 games, going 42-18 over the rest of the regular season. To the amazement of everybody outside the locker room, they’d overcome a 5-17 start to make the playoffs.
“What business did they have beating all those superior folk? Clearly, none. None, except they didn’t seem to know that,” wrote Times columnist John Hinterberger. Forward John Johnson explained how his crew routinely bested the league’s superstars. “We don’t depend on one player. We’re synchronized, like a clock. We don’t have any super names, but we get the job done.”
Assistant coach Les Habegger put his finger on a major reason why. “Lenny is under control of his emotions. When he says something to a player during a game, it’s said in such a way it’s not a putdown. No one is ever personally attacked.
“Coaches and players talk back and forth very freely. Players don’t feel they have to keep their mouths shut. I try to feed Lenny what I see. If he accepts it, fine. If he doesn’t, fine, too. Lenny is a lot like John Wooden in dealing with players. Wooden’s players were totally relaxed.”
Habegger saw another similarity to the Wizard of Westwood, in that Wilkens avoided over-coaching. “The key to winning from my standpoint is what happens during a time out. Very often, Wooden would sit down long before the minute is up.”
‘It’s Like A Dream Come True’
Wilkens had perfected the team-first approach. “I’ll take defense over offense any time,” he said, then speculated on a hustle statistic the NBA doesn’t officially keep. “We lead the league in floor burns.”
On the eve of the postseason, the always understated coach allowed, “This is a significant accomplishment, and I’m proud to be a part of it.” Another accomplishment: he won over Marilyn. “He convinced me to wait and see,” recalling her husband’s promise that all the team needed was “stability and confidence.”
“If Wilkens impact had to be capsuled,” Times sports editor Georg Meyers wrote, “it might be that since he took over, few of his players have been guilty of conserving energy, and none have been caught smiling after defeat. Even to observers accustomed to watching the Sonics of yore find implausible ways of blowing opportunities, the hokey melodrama of the ‘Wilkens Miracle’ fosters grandiose expectations.”
“Grandiose” might have been selling the reaction of Sonics owner Schulman short. “This has been the most exciting year of any team, any place in the history of basketball.” Wait; Sam was just getting warmed up. “I think it will go down in sports history as one of the most unique and exciting turnarounds in history. Lenny has made a miracle out of what appeared to be a disaster.”
Sonics Unstoppable On Road To Finals
Part of the miracle was that a run to the Finals put the team in the black for the season, rather than the red which would have stained the team’s ledgers otherwise. Indeed, the Sonics dispatched the Lakers, then the defending champion Trail Blazers, and finally David Thompson’s Nuggets in the Western Conference Finals.
After beating Denver, Wilkens was drenched in champagne in the locker room. “I don’t even like the stuff, but I’m going to have some. I’m really so happy I can’t explain it.” Then he took a stab at explaining it. “There were so many adjustments to make along the way. I thought we had the makings of a damn good team. It’s like a dream come true.”
In Game 1 of the Finals, the Sonics rallied from down 19 late in the 3rd quarter to beat the Eastern Conference champion Washington Bullets. The 106-102 triumph was their 21st consecutive win at a delirious Seattle Coliseum.
The city planned a parade in advance of Game 7 at the Coliseum, including an opera singer, 26 antique cars, police motorcycles, a drum and bugle corps, a free rock concert, presentation of “First Citizen” awards, and iris flowers (“Sonic Blooms”).
The parade ended up being a consolation prize when the Sonics fell to the Bullets in the winner-take-all finale, 105-99. Wilkens addressed thousands of Sonics fans who turned out. “It was a pleasure to work with these young men, who came through much adversity. I think they played like true champions.”
A month later, Wilkens signed a reported $1 million, five year contract to remain coach and player personnel director of the Sonics. And one year later, his team was true champions, winning the 1979 NBA title over those same Bullets. But none of it would have happened without the miracle turnaround of 1977-78.
Not that the even-keeled Wilkens was in need of grounding, but Marilyn made sure that was never an issue. “Lenny still has to take out the garbage, help the kids with their homework, and listen to me.”
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