On Oct. 23, 1967, the Brooklyn Nets franchise played its first game as the New Jersey Americans. A Brooklyn basketball junkie who was friendly with coach Max Zaslofsky and several players, Herb Turetzky was asked shortly before tip-off to serve as official scorer. As the franchise celebrates its 50th anniversary, Turetzky remains the official scorer, working the table at Barclays Center every game. Over the course of the season, we’ll check in with Herb for a Q&A of his memories of significant moments in franchise history.
In this edition, we look back at the six players that have had their jersey numbers retired by the franchise: Julius Erving, John Williamson, Drazen Petrovic, Bill Melchionni, Buck Williams and Jason Kidd. Herb offers his recollections of seeing these legends up close.
Julius Erving
Dr. J literally changed the game of basketball. He was a transition between Elgin Baylor, Hawk (Connis Hawkins). The way he did it was so graceful. Such class and style. And those are the only words I can think of. Everything he did was right. And he was in control of everything; of everything he had to do and he was in control of every player he was with. They revered him. And no one would ever do anything he didn’t want done. Every night with him was like being on a road trip with the Rolling Stones. He gave you something different every single night. You knew what he was going to do. He knew what he was going to do. And as he was doing it, he changed it. The hands, the fingers allowed him to do such things with the ball. And the air time he spent up there was just amazing. The 3-point shot he developed over those years made it even easier, so he didn’t have to work quite as hard. And when he wanted to get 15 rebounds a night, he got 15 rebounds a night. There was really nothing he couldn’t do.
(Super) John Williamson
The most confident player I’d ever seen. More so even than Doc. Soup believed that nothing could stop him and that if the situation needed something, he’d get it done. And that’s what happened in the fourth quarter (of Game 6 of the ABA Finals). Doc was great. But Soup just went off. But that’s how he was in life. The story is true: he invented the name Super John. It wasn’t given to him. He called himself Super John. He believed no one could stop him. And as strong as he was, there really were very few people who could. He had no problem just blowing right through someone to go to the basket. And he had a little bit of grace. He had that step-back at the foul line with the left foot up, like a climb the ladder move, and he was really very good at it. Very few guys had that with his size.
Drazen Petrovic
The side name of the book they put out last year on him was the Mozart of basketball. That’s really what he was. He was like a composer out there. I’ve seen tapes of him when he was younger and the development he showed and the work he put in, it was his career from when he was 12 years old. And it was going to be his career for the rest of his life. He worked very hard. Nothing came easy. He had to work very, very hard. His game was to put the ball in the basket. He wasn’t a great defender. He was a good passer, he was a good ball-handler, not great. He could penetrate and take the bang as much as anybody.
Bill Melchionni
He was on the ’67 championship team with the Sixers. He was a great college player. Very fluid, very smooth, very smart. Again, a great guy. He fit in perfectly. Billy could find open people. He was a good shooter; he wasn’t a great shooter. But he was able to get by. He was very slight —6-2, maybe 175 pounds. He didn’t take banging well. Terrific passer, very solid ball-handler.
Buck Williams
Consummate worker. Talk about a blue-collar worker; that was Buck. With his lunch pail every night. And he knew why he was there. And he worked, and he worked and he worked. Every off-season he went home and he would come back with a new offensive move. Right-handed jump hook. Left-handed jump hook. A 12-foot bank jumper from the right side. Never did something he couldn’t do well. He wasn’t taking an 18-foot jump shoot and look silly doing it. And he sure wasn’t taking a 3-pointer. But he perfected his art. As a rebounder he was really as good as they come. He knew the angles to play, the people to bang, and how to get to where he wanted to be.
Jason Kidd
He had an uncanny knack for what had to be done to get the ball in the basket. Not by his hands, by somebody else’s. And he was with a group of guys that could run that floor with him like a herd of deer. And they knew if they would get open, he was going to find them. Richard Jefferson, Kerry Kittles, Kenyon Martin, later on Vince Carter. Even Jason Collins got down the floor. He had an uncanny knack for finding them in the right spots. And the ball came just at the right time. He was for that one stretch of time what Russell Westbrook is now, Mr. Triple Double. You expected it. He had such big strong hands. It was very hard for someone to take the ball away from him. When he got his hands on the ball, it was like putting a vice on it. Like a plumber on a construction job with a big wrench. When Jason got his wrench on it, no one’s getting it away from him. He rebounded, a 6-4 guard, very strong. He wasn’t particularly fast, but very quick.