No one ever played the game of basketball better than Elgin Gay Baylor. No one. Not Michael Jordan, Larry Bird, no Knick, Celtic, Piston, Bull or Rocket in history.
You want numbers? Only two guys in the history of the game--Wilt Chamberlain and David Thompson--scored more points in a single game than his 71. Only nine in the history of the game scored more regular-season points than his 23,149--and he did it in fewer games, 846, than any of them. Only five players scored more in the playoffs than his 3,623. Only two players in the history of the game--Jordan and Chamberlain--had a higher scoring average than Elgin's 27.4. Jordan at 32.6 and Wilt 30.1.
Only one player, Jordan, had more points, 63, in a playoff game than Elgin's 61. Except, Jordan did it in double overtime, Elgin in regulation. Eighty-seven times, Elgin scored 40 or more points. And 17 of those times, he scored 50 or more.
When Baylor was on the court, it looked as if it were raining basketballs. He put up 48 shots one night and made 28 of them. Only Chamberlain and Rick Barry topped that performance. Elgin Baylor with the basketball, like Magic Johnson with the basketball, was enough to strike terror in a defense at the buzzer of a close game.
He was years ahead of his time. Elgin had to invent shots that are standard today. He was as much a con man as a guy with a vegetable peeler on 45th and Broadway. He would show the defender the ball like a guy with a pea under a walnut and then, presto! it would change hands and Baylor would loft it up to the basket while the guy was still watching the other hand. No one ever remembers seeing a shot by Baylor blocked.
He had this nervous tic that seemed to come out only at mid-court when Baylor had the ball. The rest of the time his head was as still as Nicklaus' over a putt.
He was a regular scoring machine. They didn't have the three-point basket in those days, so Elgin made up for it by drawing the foul, making the basket and shooting the free throw. He did that better than anyone else. He was one of the strongest men in the game. His teammate, Rod Hundley, always said they ruined a good heavyweight boxing prospect when they gave Baylor a basketball.
Hall of Fame players don't always make good pedagogues. They frequently have no more idea of how they do what they do than birds. They just get a ball and it happens. Coaches of games are frequently guys who had to scuffle to make the team. General managers often have not even played the game at all. The superstar's idea of managing frequently is "Go up there and hit a home run--that's what I'd do here."
