Retirement Party Is No Laughing Matter

Due to coincidence rather than plan, the rocking-chair throne for Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s farewell ceremony Sunday was placed directly on the low post spot where Kareem could have his mail delivered.

A funny thing didn’t happen when the honored guest settled into that Forum low post for the festivities. Nobody rammed an elbow into his kidneys and tried to bulldoze him off the court, or hung on his forearms like Spanish moss, or clawed at his goggles or wrapped a choke-hold on his Adam’s apple.

Big Fella was hit with none of the traditional defensive stratagems that have limited him to under 40,000 career points.

That kind of stuff would come later, during the game against the Seattle SuperSonics. First it was time to honor Kareem on this, the last stop of his world farewell tour. The Forum farewell.

A fine tour it has been, incidentally. Already stashed away at Skyhook Manor in Bel-Air is an incredible array of gifts gathered from around the league, thoughtful and useful items.

Kareem was given a hunk of the Boston Garden floor. The Celtics figured that because the man helped dismantle their dynasty, he might as well help dismantle their building.

That square o’ parquet will go great at Kareem’s mansion, something for guests to wipe their feet on. And his will be the only home in Bel-Air with Boston termites.

He was given a surfboard, a sailboat and a fishing pole, which is nice, because even a 42-year-old fella needs bathtub toys.

The New York Knicks gave him a sterling silver big apple, which will make a beautiful memento once it has been tested for Alar.

Wonderful tokens of affection and respect, but what would the final farewell, the home-court party, be like?

It was swell. Heartwarming. Kareem cried, and so did Magic Johnson, and the Forum fans sent Big Fella into his retirement--after the playoffs, of course--with a touching display of their affection and appreciation. We should all retire this way.

So many nice touches. Jack Nicholson showed up wearing a top hat and tails and T-shirt, trying as usual to blend in with the crowd. Jack probably was mowing his lawn Sunday morning, lost track of the time and didn’t have a chance to change clothes before dashing to the Forum.

“Is that Nicholson?” Chick Hearn asked during a break in his broadcast. “Pretty nice. Looks like he’s going to fly over the cuckoo’s nest again.”

Kareem’s 8-year-old son, Amir, posted up his old man and sang the Star Spangled Banner to kick off the party.

Hearn, the emcee, read a tribute sent by George (Read My Telegram) Bush, saluting Kareem’s career and his character, and absolving Big Fella of any blame for Irangate or the oil spill.

Hearn delivered an eloquent tribute of his own, although he did a little alteration, citing the famed Muhammad Ali line--”Soaring like an eagle, stinging like a bee.”

Everyone knows Ali’s motto was “Float like a butterfly, sting like a heat rash.”

But who can fault Hearn for faking Ali into the corn-on-the-cob machine? Chick has been a Kareem fan since the beginning. It’s the old philosophical question: If a skyhook falls in the forest of players and Chick doesn’t call it--”Fakes left, swings right, GOOD!”--does it count?

Nobody knows, because Hearn has called ‘em all, every last skyhook over the last 14 seasons. You can bet Kareem will be a featured speaker at Chick’s retirement party, tentatively planned for the year 2033.

There were gifts, of course. Laker owner Jerry Buss will build a tennis court at Kareem’s Hawaiian villa, so Big Kahuna can brush up on his forehand, backhand and sky-hook serve.

The Lakers players, coaches and trainer chipped in to buy Kareem a Rolls-Royce, and one rumor is that if Big Fella helps them win another National Basketball Assn. title, they’ll buy him the motor.

The most touching moment of Sunday’s ceremony was the initial ovation for Kareem, bringing tears that he had to brush away. Where were the windshield-wiper goggles when he needed them?

When Kareem spoke, when he thanked the fans for being fans, Magic Johnson cried.

“I started cryin’ when he was talking,” Magic said, “because I see it got to him. Was I surprised? Yeah, it was great to see. . . . I saw another side of him come out. I’ll never forget this day.”

When it was Kareem’s turn, he spoke from the heart, which would be a surprise to anyone who hasn’t been watching him for the last 10 years or so. They would be surprised not that he could speak from the heart, but that he has one.

Remember when Kareem wasn’t known for lavishing his warmth on the public, and vice versa?

The first time I saw Abdul-Jabbar, he was a UCLA freshman named Lew. That was back in 1965, when gas was 10 cents a gallon, the earth was flat, and Lew had a barber, not a buffer. Alcindor opened that particular freshman game with a pounding slam-dunk, and the sold-out Pauley Pavilion crowd actually laughed.

It took L.A. fans, and the rest of the country’s fans, a while to appreciate the man’s talents, to realize that Kareem was more than tall. He could play, and he could win. The only thing freakish about him was his grace, and his uncanny knack of being on teams when world titles were won.

Sometimes now, on the bad days, we forget just how incredible this dude once played, and for how many years and for how many championship teams.

Three National Collegiate Athletic Assn. titles at UCLA, five NBA championships with the Lakers. Eight titles over 22 seasons, interrupted by that six-year side-trip to Milwaukee.

No athlete ever gave more, for so long, to this city.

Sunday the fans said thanks, and this time they weren’t laughing.