Rick Carlisle Remembers Bill Walton And The Grateful Dead Show That Led Him To His Wife

Basketball legend Bill Walton passed away at 71 after a battle with cancer, leaving the world a little less colorful of a place. He often called himself the “luckiest guy in the world,” but the truth is, we were the lucky ones to have experienced his kindness and unbridled enthusiasm for living life to the fullest.

Rick Carlisle, head coach for the Indiana Pacers and former teammate of Walton on the Boston Celtics from 1985 to 1986, shared a heartfelt story in remembrance. The NBA Hall of Famer helped Carlisle score all-access passes to a Grateful Dead show on one of the first dates with his now wife, Donna Nobile.

This anecdote took place at a press conference after the Pacers lost their fourth game in the Eastern Conference Finals to the Boston Celtics on Monday night. It exemplified the profound impact Walton had on those around him. Walton and Carlisle remained in close communication in Walton’s final weeks, with the head coach sharing that they were texting throughout the NBA Playoffs.

“With the passing of Bill Walton today, I wanted to mention just how much he meant to me and so many people that I’m close to on our 1986 team,” Carlisle told the press. “Some of the memories are beyond priceless. He did stay in touch with me. He’s been texting me a lot throughout our playoffs.”

“I read some of his text messages to our players during our prep session, before we went out on the court, just so they could realize the impact they’re having on people all around basketball. Bill really likes our team, likes the way we play.”

While speaking to the media, Carlisle recounted a particularly special memory, explaining how Walton’s kindness played a pivotal role in his personal life.

Bill Walton helped Rick Carlisle score free tickets to see the Grateful Dead on a first date with his wife

“I have him to thank for being married to my wife Donna. Our first date was a Dead show in Washington, DC.”

He explained how he reached out to Walton for help when planning their first date to a Grateful Dead show.

“I called Bill. This is 1987. ‘Look, I have a date with a girl that I think is pretty cool. I’d love to go to the Dead show at the Capital Center. I don’t have any tickets. Can you help?”

Walton’s response was typical of his generous spirit:

“He said ‘Just go to the back door, ask for Dennis McNally, tell him you’re Rick Carlisle from the Boston Celtics, and everything will be just fine.'” (For context, Dennis McNally was the former publicist for the Grateful Dead and later became an author and historian for the band, penning an authorized history of the band called “A Long Strange Trip: The Inside History of the Grateful Dead.”)

“I said, ‘really?’ He said, ‘oh yeah.'”

“I drove up to the loading dock. Donna was with me, we hadn’t known each other for too long. I told her ‘just wait here a second.’ She was like ‘what?! do you have tickets?!’ So I walked down and the whole thing ended up working out. I walked up the loading dock ramp with two all-access laminates. One said Bill Walton and the other said Suzy Walton. We were set up for the show. We were actually on stage watching the show. During the break we were just kind of wandering around the back and opened up a door and ended up sitting down with Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir, and Mickey Hart for about 15 minutes.”

“Anyway, I’m thankful to him. I know there was a lot of talk about what he meant to the whole world.”

Watch Carlisle’s tribute to Walton here:

Rick Carlisle remembers Bill Walton and his larger-than-life legacy

After his story about scoring laments to a Dead show, Carlisle continued his remembrance to his old teammate, telling the press about how Walton’s wild personality shined like a supernova.

“To me, he was a living, breathing event in history, just walking around. He was involved in so many events, pop culture, in sports. He played drums for the Grateful Dead, in the pyramids in Egypt. He did everything. And there’s been a lot of talk today about how he speaks in hyperbole so much.”

“To me he was a living, breathing event in history just walking around. He was involved in so many events. Pop culture, sports. He played drums with the Grateful Dead at the pyramids in Egypt. This guy did everything. There was a lot of talk today about how he’d talk with hyperbole and stuff. But he defiantly competed for every moment in life to be the greatest it could possibly be. That’s the best way to describe it. I talked to Luke today for a few minutes. They’re doing OK, but obviously this has been tough.”

“What an amazing man. There will never be another.”

What a magnificent story by a friend and teammate.

Remembering Bill Walton: A Personal Tribute, from College Memories to Interview Mishaps

Some of my happiest college memories were random Wednesday nights in 2007, when my roommate and I watched Walton on ESPN NBA broadcasts. It was appointment television in our trashy State College apartment, usually accompanied with microwaveable Hot Pockets to combat the munchies.

His wild, unhindered commentary was unlike anything we’d ever heard in sports at the time. We’d stay up late to watch West Coast NBA games, counting his Grateful Dead references and Waltonisms, laughing all night about his unhinged commentary.

As a Deadhead and hoops fan, I was stoked to talk to my hero a few years later, in 2014, for an interview here on BroBible. When it came time to have our 10 minute phone call, Walton seemed to be having a bad day, promoting a lame Valentine’s Day PR promo for a flower company. The conversation was rough. He was obviously reading from a script, rarely straying from whatever he was reading lines from. He didn’t really answer my question about Jerry Garcia and the Dead other than saying it was the most important band in his life (duh) and mentioning how those guys liked roses, playing right into the band’s signature “must have been the roses” iconography. It was so bad I didn’t publish it; I didn’t want to do one of my heroes dirty like that for a conversation that was sort of lame.

Meanwhile, my old roommate got the biggest kick out of that; I had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to interview Bill Walton, our wildly misunderstood folk college hero, and it sort of sucked. Maybe I dropped the ball? I don’t know. But we both laughed about it for years and continued to text each other of our favorite Waltonisms when they’d go viral. Walton’s eccentricities were just part of his charm.

As a big live music fan myself, it was always a hoot to see Walton at Phish or Dead shows around Southern California. I saw him at the Willie Nelson 90th Birthday show at the Hollywood Bowl last April. He was doling out high fives to strangers, all smiles per usual.

The tributes to Walton that have poured in on social media all day long emphasize the man’s greatness; the lives he touched, and the collective grieving for this tremendous life force. He was radiant with kindness and enthusiasm, living life to the fullest in a way that was nothing short of remarkable. He was 10,000 volts of electricity wherever he went. Basketball was merely his vehicle, a platform to share his gifts and natural talents with the world.

But I don’t think basketball was Walton’s greatest talent. I wholeheartedly think his greatest talent was living life with Tao. I’m going to just call it The Tao of Bill Walton.

The Tao of Bill Walton brought so much happiness and inspiration to people like me and my old college roommate. It was a chuckle and wink, like being in on the joke on Walton’s “joyride through the cosmos.” The world is much better for it.

There’s a void now, but in the words of Rick Carlisle: “What an amazing man. There will never be another like him.”