fb-pixelThese Boston icons had a style all their own - The Boston Globe Skip to main content
Kevin Paul Dupont | On Second Thought

These Boston icons had a style all their own

Larry Bird stole Red Auerbach’s victory cigar after the Celtics won the 1981 NBA title. Frank O’Brien/Globe Staff

The Globe building on Morrissey Boulevard is up for sale. We’ll be moving soon. Meanwhile, I’ve decided to start my own “Boston Sports Style’’ Hall of Fame in the basement, just down the corridor from an ancient Linotype machine that stands ready to print the Internet in case of an emergency. I think that’s how the Internet works.

Style has a very broad definition, and I intend to stretch it as far as possible with my Hall of Fame. The inaugural class is full of characters, famous and infamous, known for what made them unique rather than, say, what made them stars or lesser beings. I think you’ll get the idea. You’ll probably want to create your own list of stylin’ HOFers.

Advertisement



Carl Yastrzemski — For his unique batting stance, bat held at 90 degrees and hands propped a notch above his rear (left) shoulder. In the ’60s and ’70s, ballfields around New England were filled with kids who imitated Yaz’s art nouveau stance.

John “Hog’’ Hannah — For his nickname alone. Who could tolerate being called “Hog’’ in today’s PC world? The Patriots guard made it to Canton for his skill, smarts, and toughness. Being Hog made him even better.

Derek Sanderson — For his sweepcheck. The Turk had many talents — on and off the ice — but no one then, or since, could match his ability for dropping the lumber flat on the ice and taking away pucks. A Fagin’s lost art, and one that would fit perfectly with today’s defense-drunk NHL.

Bud Collins — For his sartorial splendor. No one’s ever been able to match the legendary Globe tennis scribe’s skill for turning a pair of Marriott drapes into a haute couture pair of trousers.

Luis Tiant — For his windup and delivery. El Tiante’s gyrations were a crazy package of twists, dips, and doodles. He also perfected the art of smoking a cigar in the shower.

Advertisement



Red Auerbach — For his cigar, of course. No one today would get away with lighting up a victory stogie in the stands. Fans of a certain age swear they still smell Red’s cigar when the Green Team wins on Causeway Street.

Ted Williams — Not for his hitting, but for how he circled the bases after a homer. Maybe it was the Red Sox flannels of the day, but Teddy Ballgame styled his homers with elegance and grace. He was a serene Tall Ship, sails billowed, treasures secure.

Will McDonough — For telling it like it was. Maybe sometimes it didn’t add up, but it was always a great read, and ultimately what everyone believed.

Steve Grogan — For being a gamer. Many of the Patriots teams he quarterbacked were lackluster, but his guile and toughness made them more, in an era when QBs were pulled apart like roasted poultry. One tough rooster.

John Bucyk — For his hipchecks. Butt ending is a penalty, but the Chief was the gold standard for putting his rock-solid derriere to devastating use. Yeah, Kim Kardashian’s got it going on. Please, we’re doing business here.

Rosie Ruiz — For jumping the line. She never admitted to anyone here that her Marathon win in 1980 was a fraud, but her ill-conditioned body said it all. Will always be remembered for her lyin’ eyes and doughy thighs.

Advertisement



Dick Radatz — For his sheer force. “The Monster” was among the few reasons to come to Fenway in the early and mid-’60s. When he was on the mound for the last out, he would raise both arms emphatically in triumph, like Godzilla ripping down power lines.

Harry Sinden — For quotability. When Canadian Olympian Joe Juneau talked of playing in Switzerland and not Boston, a laconic Sinden said, “Hope he learns to yodel.’’ Sinden had a million of ’em, in an era when GMs weren’t afraid of their own words and shadows.

Larry Bird — For snatching Red’s cigar for a puff as the two posed with the NBA championship trophy after the Celtics defeated Houston in 1981 (captured in photo by Globe Hall of Famer Frank O’Brien).

Terry O’Reilly — For fighting. With ferocity. Not the biggest or the brawniest, but no one was ever tougher or more committed to the fight.

Bill Russell — For the fluidity of his shotblocking, defending, rebounding. At his best when schooling Wilt Chamberlain in all three.

Johnny Kelley — For being Boston. He ran our Marathon 61 times and to hear him talk about Heartbreak Hill was a rite of spring unto itself. His career haul included such trinkets as 22 diamond rings and zero dollars. Kelly cared about what he left on the road, not what he put in the bank.

Hank Finkel — For looking like he knew. Tall in body, short on athletic gifts, the Celtics’ 7-foot backup center was an awkward-yet-endearing fit in a franchise known for manufacturing stars and titles. It was as if he walked on to the wrong set, never looked at a script, yet figured it out. That’s rare talent.

Advertisement



Mack Herron — For doing so much with so little (5-5, 170 pounds as a Patriots running back) and doing it with frenetic, thrilling flair. He turned 67 years old Friday and his Wiki page says Herron has done jail time and been arrested more than 20 times by Chicago police.

Don Gillis — For his dignity on TV. Yes, dignity on TV. Gillis blended both for decades on Channel 5. Ditto for Mike Lynch.

Eddie Shore — For being Boston’s first sports superstar in the ’20s and ’30s. The great Bruins defenseman would don a toreador’s cape when making grand entrances on Garden ice. The caped Shore, a valet at his side, would skate out with “Hail to the Chief” playing, then surrender his cape to the valet.

John Kiley — For playing his music. Organist for decades at the Garden and Fenway, the genial Kiley was the one-man “game experience’’ of the pre-AudioPorn era. Oh, man, take me back, please, in Geronimo’s Cadillac. A convertible, of course.

I know, so many more worthy characters with styles all their own, including the likes of George Scott, Jimmy Piersall, Jungle Jim Loscutoff, Billy Sullivan and Bill Veeck, Gene Conley and Pumpsie Green, Clif and Claf. Bobby Orr and his single stripe of tape. Hawk Harrelson and his Nehru jackets. Ray Bourque and his anointing of the Bruins goalie before the opening faceoff. Bill Lee and his eephus pitch. Nomar Garciaparra and his stuff. Irving Fryar and his nonsense. And more and more and more.

Advertisement



We’re Boston, and when it comes to sports, we’ve always had a certain style.


Kevin Paul Dupont’s “On Second Thought” appears regularly in the Sunday Globe Sports section. He can be reached at dupont@globe.com. Follow him on Twitter @GlobeKPD.