1970s

Statement from Pacers Sports & Entertainment Owners Herb Simon, Steve Simon, and the Simon Family:
"Pacers fans will remember Bobby 'Slick' Leonard as the spirit of our franchise. With a charisma, intensity, and wit to match his nickname, Slick made us champions. He was our biggest fan and our most loving critic, and he personified Pacers basketball for generations of Hoosier families. Most importantly, though, Slick and Nancy are our family, and his passing leaves an unfillable void in the hearts of everyone associated with this organization. We keep the entire Leonard family in our prayers, and we recognize and honor Slick for what he meant to our state both on and off the court."

Statement from Larry Bird:
"To me, Slick was a real Hoosier, he loved the State and everyone that lives there. He was a great mentor to me and a friend that everyone should have. Slick will be greatly missed and remembered with respect and admiration forever. My family and I send our sincere condolences to Nancy and the Leonard family."

Statement from Reggie Miller:
"This one hurts Pacers Nation...So very saddened by the loss of a beloved human being in Bobby ‘Slick’ Leonard. We all know how great a Coach you were in guiding the ABA Pacers to 3 Championships, but you were a much better friend. I will cherish every single one of our conversations and pass them along to my kids. Thinking of Nancy and the Leonard Family during this time."

RELATED: Remembering Bobby "Slick" Leonard »

Bobby "Slick" Leonard:
A Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame inductee in 2014, Bobby "Slick" Leonard spent more than 50 years as a part of the Pacers organization, both as a championship-winning coach and a broadcaster. As Pacers’ head coach from 1968-1980, he won 529 games and three ABA championships and was later voted by a national sportswriters and broadcasters association as the ABA’s All-Time Coach.

Named one of Indiana's "50 Greatest Players" and a two-time All-American at Indiana University, Slick was captain of the Hoosiers' 1953 NCAA championship team and Big Ten Championship teams in 1953 and '54. He then served in the U.S. Army from 1954-56 before playing seven years in the NBA with the Minneapolis/Los Angeles Lakers and was named an All Star in 1963.

In addition to the Naismith Memorial Hall of Fame, Slick is enshrined in the Indiana Basketball Hall of Fame and the Indiana Sports Writers and Broadcasters Hall of Fame and was the first person inducted into the Indiana University Sports Hall of Fame. He was also honored as a member of Indiana University's All-Century Basketball Team

Finally, Slick is one of just six individuals in Pacers history to have a banner raised in his honor. Hanging from the rafters of Bankers Life Fieldhouse, the banner honors his 529 victories as coach of the Pacers and his contributions to the game.

Slick and his wife, Nancy, have five children, 12 grandchildren, and six great grandchildren.

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Statements On The Passing of Bobby “Slick” Leonard

People remember the iconic Afro most of all, the sculptured mound of hair that topped off his 6-foot-9 frame and made him look like a 7-footer. They remember the dunks, too, because his vertical jump was extraordinary for someone so tall. The sight of him sprinting down the court with his hair blown back by the breeze and executing an acrobatic breakaway dunk lives in the memory of veteran Pacers fans.

What people should remember most about Darnell Hillman, though, is the discipline. The team-first approach. The charisma. And, certainly, the significant contributions to six Pacers teams.

"Darnell was special guy to have on your team," says Slick Leonard, who coached each of those six. "He had a great attitude."

The Pacers teams for which Hillman performed include the 1972 and '73 ABA champions as well as the four that followed, the last of which marked their entry into the NBA. But he played for several more front office teams as well, all the way from Dec. 3, 1999, his first day in the community relations department, until last week when he retired about a month shy of his 71st birthday.

Retired from what exactly is complicated, because his role didn't fit conventional corporate classification. His last official job title was "Associate Director of Camps, Clinics and Alumni Relations." But he was more than that. In fact, the title under his photo in the most recent media guide took a shot at encompassing everything by identifying him as "Associate Director, Community Ambassador."

Call him whatever you want, Hillman was a grinder in a non-glamorous role in the front office just as he had been as a player. He might have seemed flamboyant with the well-groomed Afro he says extended 13 1/2 inches from his skull and all those hang-time dunks, but his game was blue collar. A power forward who could fill in at center, his primary assets were rebounding and blocking shots. He averaged 10.6 points and 8.4 rebounds over his six seasons with the Pacers, peaking at 13.9 and 9.2 in the 1974-75 season when a rebuilt team made a surprising run to the ABA finals.

Hillman started 244 of the 395 regular season games he played for the Pacers and 29 of the 72 playoff games. He never made an All-Star team and his best-remembered individual feat is winning an NBA slam dunk contest sponsored by CBS in 1977. But he helped teams win games. Helped them win championships, too.

Hillman was selected by the Pacers as part of a preliminary three-round draft conducted before the ABA's All-Star Game in January of 1971. The choices were supposed to be kept secret to give ABA teams a head-start negotiating with players before the NBA could get around to its draft, but the names leaked out immediately. Hillman was a second-round pick and described in Indianapolis newspapers articles as a "sleeper" and an "unknown" because he had spent the previous two years in the Army.

He turned out to be one of the savvier selections in franchise history. The Golden State Warriors took him with the eighth overall pick in the NBA Draft and were under great pressure to sign the local product who had attended San Jose State for two years before being drafted into the Army. The Pacers, however, won the bidding war.

Hillman, along with fellow rookie George McGinnis, joined a stacked team that had won the ABA title in 1970 and finished with the league's best record in '71. His Army background turned out to be a major asset, as his confident but ego-free approach meshed well with his teammates and his work ethic and respect for authority impressed his coach.

"He was flashy, and he could jump, but he played the game with a lot of discipline because he knew what his shortcomings were," says Billy Keller, who played on all three ABA championship teams. "That makes you a much more able contributor."

Hillman contributed plenty, regardless of how he was used. While his season averages never stood out, he usually answered when opportunity knocked.

As a rookie, he had 10 points, 18 rebounds, and 10 blocked shots off the bench in a victory over Florida. According to the story in the Indianapolis Star (headlined Darnell a Daring Darling as Pacers Win), he also forced several misses by intimidating shooters.

He had 20 points and 21 rebounds against Pittsburgh later that season and had two double-doubles in the second-round playoff series with Utah.

He had a career-high 24 rebounds along with 18 points against San Diego in the 1972-73 season and came up big several times in the playoffs as a starter when Brown was limited by a sore back. He had 13 points and 19 rebounds in a Game 5 victory over Utah in the second round and 17 points and 18 rebounds in a Game 4 win over Kentucky in the championship series.

After the Pacers failed to clinch the championship at home in Game 6, Leonard told reporters he planned to return Brown to the starting lineup in Game 7 in Louisville to get more scoring. Brown, however, showed up late for the game after driving himself to Freedom Hall from Indianapolis, so Hillman got a last-minute reprieve as a starter. He played 44 minutes and grabbed 13 rebounds, both team highs, in the Pacers' 88-81 victory.

"He was always ready when he was called upon," Keller says.

In his later seasons with the Pacers, when the team was in rebuilding mode, Hillman stepped up his scoring. His career high of 35 came against Denver. He added 16 rebounds to his stat line that night. He had scored 32 in a game at Utah earlier that season.

Hillman gets a massage from teammate Billy Keller. (Photo Credit: Frank McGrath)

Hillman and Keller were a lot alike, both in their whatever-you-need roles with the Pacers and their personalities. They were the two players of that era most eager to connect with fans at planned events, often the first to arrive and the last to leave. They were, perhaps, the team's most popular players — Keller because he was an Indianapolis native and short (5-foot-10) and Hillman because of his dunking ability and world class Afro.

"Darnell and I would show up early for things and a lot of times be the last to leave," Keller says. "Just being friendly, wanting to stay and visit...fans appreciate stuff like that. Once they got attracted to him for whatever reason, his personality took over. Darnell could relate to everybody."

That made him a natural for his job in the front office. Many NBA teams hire former players to serve in a community relations capacity, mostly just to make appearances and sign autographs. Hillman's involvement went far deeper than that. He directed youth camps and clinics, participated in reading programs and represented the franchise at golf outings throughout the summer.

Hillman reached out to the public at games, too. He was aware that escalating ticket prices had sent many an "average fan" higher in the Fieldhouse and made it a point to circulate in the upper levels to mix with them.

He was an absolute superstar with kids, though, especially at camps and clinics. His Army discipline got their attention and his natural charm won them over.

Hillman leads campers in a drill at the 2019 Jr. Pacers Hoops Tour visit to Fort Wayne. (Photo Credit: Frank McGrath)

"We always said he ran it like a boot camp," says Kelli Towles, the Pacers' Senior Director of Community Relations. "Darnell was very old school. He made them tuck in their shirts and they could not put their hands in their pockets. If they did, he made them turn their pockets inside out. He said, 'There's no walking in my gym.' If they had to get a drink they had to run there and run back.

"Initially kids were afraid, but by the end of the camp they loved him. They realized he was doing it for a purpose, and they could laugh and joke with him. And the parents were appreciative of the way he approached the discipline. I can't count the number of times I saw him pull a player aside who maybe was acting up and he would say, 'I see potential in you!' He would help them make a change in their mindset and by the end of the camp they were behaving much better. He really had a gift for dealing with kids."

It wasn't all about basketball, though. Sometimes it was just fun and games. How many slam-dunk champions do you know who would lay on the court and play Cookie Monster with the kids?

For that matter, how many do you know who would go to this much trouble:

In 2016, a young Pacers fan named Evan Leisure was to undergo heart surgery at Riley Hospital. A request was e-mailed to Hillman, asking if any of the players could drop by for a visit. The team was out of town around the time of the surgery, so Hillman put a gift package together and personally delivered it to Leisure.

Hillman visits Evan Leisure at Riley Hospital. (Photo Courtesy of Nancy Rayl)

Hillman's job evolved into also serving as the Pacers' alumni director, dedicated to maintaining relations with former players and/or their spouses. He was the contact for players wanting tickets to a game, the one to organize appearances by former players at FanJam each October, the one to drop by and say hello when the daughter of a former player who was with the team for a brief period 50 years earlier attended a game.

"He was always that middle guy," Keller says. "Anytime I needed something Pacer-related I called Darnell. I would imagine 99.9 percent of the guys did the same thing. And he was always very cooperative in getting your request filled. I'm not sure there was ever a time I requested something of him that he didn't produce for me. He was reliable, and if he couldn't do it he'd tell you up front.

Hillman was his own transportation committee, too. Before every home game the past few seasons, Hillman met Leonard in the underground parking garage at Bankers Life Fieldhouse in a golf cart and drove him to the radio broadcasting porch with an assist from an express elevator. Hillman returned in the cart near the end of the third quarter to take Leonard back to his car.

That gave Hillman time to interact with fans who might be passing by. He was an attraction of his own for older fans who witnessed his career. If they asked if he can still dunk, he might say, "Too much snow on the mountain," referring to his age-revealing gray hair. If someone had a child who was too shy to talk, he would have a small gift handy, such as a ball that lights up when bounced. But he demanded something in return.

Hillman was equally at ease engaging with the military members who were honored at games. As an Army veteran, he could relate.

When you get right down to it, he's the most versatile player the Pacers have ever had if off-court activities are included in the assessment. Replacing him seems nearly impossible without making it a group effort. It might require a lot of alterations to replace someone who wore as many suits as Hillman did.

Hillman's retirement party a few weeks ago was relatively subdued, thanks to the pandemic. It started with a small gathering of fellow employees on the outdoor deck at Rick's Boatyard, a half-dozen or so, and gradually grew to about 18 as word got out among employees. Distancing concerns ran out the clock, but speeches were made and a retirement gift — a new set of golf clubs — was delivered.

A telling moment arrived when Karen Atkeson, the Vice President of Player Relations, asked Hillman to step out to the parking lot. Nate McMillan was waiting there to offer his congratulations, having driven from downtown following practice on the day before the team was to leave for Orlando to resume the season. Hillman technically wasn't part of the basketball staff but had generated that kind of respect.

It would have been a much larger celebration under normal circumstances, but perhaps it was more appropriate that Hillman go out in a subdued fashion. He had come came to the Pacers as a "sleeper," unknown to fans in Indiana, and he had played in the shadows of All-Stars and future Hall of Famers.

Hillman, though, left with the greatest distinction of all: best teammate.

Have a question for Mark? Want it to be on Pacers.com? Email him at askmontieth@gmail.com and you could be featured in his next mailbag.

Mark Montieth's book on the formation and groundbreaking seasons of the Pacers, "Reborn: The Pacers and the Return of Pro Basketball to Indianapolis," is available in bookstores throughout Indiana and on Amazon.com.

Note: The contents of this page have not been reviewed or endorsed by the Indiana Pacers. All opinions expressed by Mark Montieth are solely his own and do not reflect the opinions of the Indiana Pacers, their partners, or sponsors.

hillman-was-a-slam-dunk-in-the-front-office-too

Hillman was a Slam Dunk in the Front Office, Too

The natural tendency is to believe black professional athletes live on an island free of racial bias. They are well-paid and generally beloved if
they are performing well, so who would react to them negatively simply because of their race?

Those who have worn the Pacers uniform say that isn't always the case, however. From the beginning of the franchise's history in 1967 black members of the team have experienced racism in both subtle and blatant forms away from the cocoon of the locker room. The timeline of their experiences reflects progress, but also the need for more of it.

What's clear from conversations with several black Pacers is that Indiana has a reputation for not always being accommodating to them.

"As soon as you get to Indiana and talk to people who have lived there for a long time, you're told right away there are certain parts of Indiana you don't go to," said Antonio Davis, who played for the Pacers from 1993-99. "You know that right off. They talk about the KKK once marching in Indianapolis and you hear the stories about a lot of different things.

"But I can honestly say in being there, I didn't have bad experiences other than minor things. You feel it a lot, but I don't know that I have a story where experienced it."

That wasn't the case when the franchise began operations in 1967 after the American Basketball Association was formed. Some of the players on the inaugural team experienced one of the most fundamental issues of race: housing.

While some of the black players bought houses in predominately black neighborhoods close to downtown, two attempted to rent an apartment farther away. Guard Jerry Harkness inquired about one in a new complex in the Meadows area but was rejected. He had to connect with a local white man, civic leader Bill McGowan, who made a call to another apartment complex on his behalf. When McGowan said he was looking for a place for a Pacer, he was told, "We already have one!"

"One," meaning a black player. That was forward Oliver Darden, who had been granted an apartment at a building on North Keystone after being turned away at three or four other places. Darden got an apartment because he threatened to sue and a Pacers front office member had intervened on his behalf. Harkness later got an apartment at 38th and Post Rd. through local real estate developer Robert Welch, who owned the building.

"I didn't think it would be that hard," McGowan said. "I didn't realize how bad it was."

It should be mentioned, however, that neither Darden nor Harkness say they had memorable issues with other residents after moving into their apartment complexes.

The Pacers had as many as eight black players in their first season, more than any other team in the ABA or NBA. That didn't go over well with some fans. Larry Staverman, the Pacers' first coach, recalled hearing complaints from fans in the stands whenever he had five black players in the game at the same time. The front office must have heard them, too, because there was a dedicated effort the following season to "whiten" the roster. Whereas five white players played for the team in the first season, 11 appeared in games at various points the following year.

The gradual roster transformation finally met with a blowback when general manager Mike Storen tried to release black backup center George Peeples after white guard Steve Chubin had been acquired. According to Jimmy Rayl's account, one acknowledged by Storen, Peeples was called into a locker room before practice one morning and was told of his release by Storen and coach Bob Leonard. When Roger Brown learned of it, he walked into the locker room and filed a complaint. Moments later, Rayl — a white former Mr. Basketball from Kokomo — was called in and told he was being released due to the size of his contract.

Brown, a future Hall of Famer, experienced a more direct form of racism following a Game 7 playoff loss to Utah at the Coliseum in 1971. He had led the Pacers to the league championship the previous seasons but had not performed as well in this series. According to newspaper reports, a few fans hurled beer and racial slurs at him as he headed toward the locker room.

"Afterwards, the usually unemotional Brown was shaken up," Robin Miller wrote in the Indianapolis Star.

"It was a sad scene. Here was a man who almost single-handedly beat the Stars in last season's championship series. He just didn't have the stardust this year. He was solid but not spectacular. As a result he'll probably be scorned for the rest of the summer."

Star sports editor Bob Collins devoted most of his column to the incident a few days later, constructing it as a letter of apology to Brown.

"But morons aren't real long on memory," Collins wrote. "In any basketball crowd you'll see a few drunks who couldn't find the men's room without a map. So, they took it out on you. And they hit you where it cut the deepest. But at the same time they displayed the limits of their vocabulary, to say nothing of their mentality."

Mel Daniels was perhaps the most inclusive of all the early Pacers. Having played for an integrated high school team in Detroit, a rarity in that era, and being a natural empathizer, he was a natural for bridging the gap between races. His personality was such that Billy Keller considers a postgame talk with Daniels after a road loss during his rookie season the exact moment he felt like an accepted team member.

That didn't shield Daniels from bigotry, however. Although his experiences as a Pacer were mostly positive as a two-time league Most Valuable Player on teams that won three ABA championships, he did recall — with laughter — a letter he received from a fan that stated something along the lines of, "We believe that white ballplayers are better than black ballplayers, but we like you. Can we have your autograph?"

George McGinnis says he also was denied an apartment after signing with the Pacers in 1971 following his sophomore season at Indiana. He and his girlfriend, Lynda, went to a complex on 56th St. and were told by the office manager, "We don't rent to coloreds." He rented an apartment near Castleton instead.

McGinnis says he didn't hear racial slurs from fans at the Coliseum as Brown had, but often heard them from fans in other cities, especially in the south.

"It was a different time back then," he says. "It happened all the time."

He did have a brush with bigotry following an exhibition game against the Kentucky Colonels at Columbus North High School in September of 1972.

He and Darnell Hillman headed to a Columbus restaurant after the game for something to eat, but were denied service. Not only denied but laughed at by the man in charge.

"I have some friends in Columbus and they told me that guy joked about it for 15 years," McGinnis recalls.

McGinnis says he didn't inform Leonard of the incident, instead airing a more general complaint.

"I don't like it down here," he told Leonard. "If we come back here for another game, I'm not coming."

McGinnis says Leonard replied, "You don't have to worry because the ------- promoter stiffed us out of our money. We won't be coming back."

Hillman had some bad experiences of his own. Visiting the Indianapolis Motor Speedway following his rookie season in 1972, he was taken to the first turn to watch the action. Passing by the Snake Pit, he heard fans shouting the N-word at him.

"I was like, 'OK, this won't be a race I'll be coming back to anytime soon," he says.

Hillman was reminded there were other places to avoid during the playoffs in 1973, when the Pacers played Kentucky. Leonard allowed the players to drive to games in Louisville if they wanted, so Hillman drove his new Corvette.

Heading home after one game, he took the Whiteland exit in search of a gas station. He soon noticed a car full of young white males following him, talking among themselves and gesturing toward him. Farther into town, a police car began following him as well. The kids soon pulled off, but the police officer continued to follow him. Giving up on finding a place to refuel, Hillman headed back to the interstate. The officer followed him for a while before taking an exit ramp. Hillman barely made it to a station on the south side of Indianapolis before running out of gas and was later lectured by Daniels about staying out of smaller towns outside of Indianapolis.

Generally, however, their status as a Pacer helped players in their encounters with police officers.

Hillman, who drove sports cars and motorcycles during his playing career, was pulled over occasionally often for speeding. After the officer looked at his license, the common response was something along the lines of "Slow down, Darnell, we want you around to win basketball games."

The more blatant racially motivated incidents go back many years, but Hillman experienced one after the new millennium while in French Lick for a summer golf outing. He was walking into a store in town when a car of young white men drove by and shouted the N-word at him.

Travis Best had a similar experience as a rookie with the Pacers in the 1995-96 season. The memory of being at a gas station on N. Keystone Ave. and hearing the N-word from some people in a passing car remains fresh in his memory — partly because it had never happened before.

"That was the first time it had ever been said to me," said Best, Best, who grew up in Springfield, Mass. and attended college at Georgia Tech in Atlanta. "That was a jolt.”"

These incidents have become more isolated over the years. It's not as though the Pacers' black players have heard racial insults whenever they leave home, and at some point housing discrimination faded into oblivion for them.

"I've been pretty fortunate in that way," Best says. "Not too many (negative) things have come my way. I'm pretty sure there have been things, but I've always been in a position where I haven't had to ask anyone for anything. So, I haven't been in position where somebody could talk down or berate me in any way."

Davis had the added benefit of being 6-foot-9 and more easily identified as an athlete than the 5-11 Best. He says he felt more racial resentment while playing in other U.S. cities as well as parts of Europe, but he says he felt uncomfortable in certain environments in Indianapolis.

"Believe me, there are times where you are out and people don't know who you are...” he said. "I moved to Zionsville and I felt it there sometimes. You know what I mean? Some people didn't know me or thought I shouldn't live where I lived. It was just something I felt."

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Pacers Players Not Immune From Racial Discrimination

These are the 10 players who comprised the playoff roster for the Pacers' 1970 championship team and their regular season averages.

Remembering the Pacers' First Championship, 50 Years Later »

Four of the 10 players on the Pacers' 1970 playoff roster have passed away: Roger Brown, Mel Daniels, John Barnhill, and Jay Miller. The remaining members are spread throughout the country:

Art Becker (Tempe, Ariz.): Acquired in a preseason trade with the Carolina Cougars, much to his relief and to the Pacers' benefit. Was an ABA All-Star in the league's first season two years earlier when he averaged 18.8 points for Houston. Was a solid reserve on this team, hitting 52 percent of his field goal attempts and scoring in double figures in six playoff games.

He was traded to Denver the following season but remembers his season-and-a-half with the Pacers as the highlight of his six-season professional career.

"It was just magical for me," he says. "The community was great. People would know who you are everywhere you went."

Becker's favorite memory was getting a press pass for the Indianapolis 500 and watching the race from inside the first turn. "It was just crazy," he says. "I might have taken a couple of pictures."

Has lived in Arizona since retiring in 1973 but stays in touch with his former roommate, Keller, and Netolicky. Also saw Thacker a few years ago when Thacker was passing through the Tempe area, and returns occasionally for reunions.

Oliver Darden (Sunrise, Fla.): A starter on the original Pacers team two years earlier. There's credible evidence he scored the first basket in franchise history. Was traded away the following season and then reacquired during this season — and then released again in training camp the following season.

Fed up with the uncertainty of pro basketball and having options, he retired instead of trying to land a spot with another team and went on to have the most successful career of all the members of this team in financial terms.

He worked for Eli Lilly for a while, then State Farm Insurance for 15 years. He earned a Masters degree from Northwestern in 1982 and eventually accumulated 15 Burger King franchises. He sold those in 2002 and has been retired since.

Played a major role off the bench in one of the first-round victories over Carolina after Daniels got in foul trouble.

Stays in close touch with former Pacers teammate Jerry Harkness and returns to Indianapolis often.

Billy Keller (Bloomington, Ind. in summer, St. Petersburg, Fla. in winter): Considered a novelty by some fans at first, he earned everyone's respect in short order. He was particularly effective in the playoffs after getting a starting opportunity when Lewis became ill before the opener of the second round against Kentucky.

Scored in double figures in 10 consecutive games in the postseason, outplaying Kentucky's All-Star guard Louie Dampier in the second round and then outplaying L.A.'s first-team all-rookie guard Mack Calvin in the first four games of the finals.

Went on to play seven seasons for the Pacers and remains one of the most popular players in Indiana's basketball history. Has rings for a high school state championship, an NCAA runner-up finish, and three ABA titles.

"He earned his opportunity to play," Darden says. "He practiced really hard. He was a hustler who took nothing for granted. He made himself into a very good ballplayer."

Freddie Lewis (Washington, D.C.): Point guard and captain of all three Pacers championship teams. Major contributor who deferred much of his potential scoring to the frontline players.

"Mel and Roger wouldn't have been what they were without Freddie," Becker says.

Averaged 16.4 points during the regular season but raised that to 20.4 in the playoffs. Averaged 26.5 points in the first round against Carolina. The Pacers' only loss in the first two rounds was the one he sat out with the flu.

Spends most of his time today caring for his mother, but remains in contact with several former teammates and attends reunions.

Bob Netolicky (Austin, Texas): The team's best water-skier was also its most consistent player. Averaged 20.6 points during the regular season, 20.3 in the postseason, and 20.3 in the finals against the Stars. Scored in double figures every game and 30 or more three times.

Voted to play in the All-Star Game his first four seasons.

"He could rebound, he could run the floor, he had that 15-18 foot jump shot...he was just a damn good player," coach Bob Leonard says. "But you had to beat it out of him."

Moved to Austin last summer to be with his daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids. Has led an effort to get pension money for ABA players for several years and knows the whereabouts of just about every living ABA player.

Tom Thacker (Cincinnati, Ohio): Only man to have played on NCAA, NBA, and ABA championship teams. Won one in the semi-pro North American Basketball League as well.

Not a shooter but contributed everything else. Biggest playoff moment in this season came in Game 6 against the Stars when he played 33 minutes off the bench and contributed 11 points and 10 assists.

Nicknamed "Dogg" in college after a cartoon character. Carried influence in the locker room as a veteran leader and team psychologist who knew how to motivate.

Has been a regular attendee of Pacers games for several years as well as their annual golf outing. Suffered a stroke last year and is rehabilitating.

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The 1969-70 ABA Champion Pacers

It won more games than any other ABA Pacers team. It played in the franchise's first nationally televised games. It was feted in two parades, not to mention a ham and bean dinner. And then the players all went to Bermuda, where the star player crashed his mini-bike into someone's house.

The Pacers team that won the 1970 ABA championship 50 years ago Monday wasn't the best of the franchise's three teams that won titles, but it had the most fun, the wildest ride, and the greatest impact on fans in Indianapolis, where a "major league" team had never won a championship.

The title was clinched with a 111-107 victory over the Los Angeles Stars, in Los Angeles, on May 25 — technically the 26th in Indianapolis because the game didn't begin until 11 p.m. local time. It could have happened in Game 5 in Indianapolis if not for a star player going water-skiing the day before the game, but we'll get to that later.

Point was, the Pacers won it all and the city didn't care how, when, or where. It just wanted something to celebrate, and how it went about doing so revealed the team's impact.

The Pacers flew home via commercial jet the next day. A parade was conducted the day after that, the 27th, carrying the players, coaches, and front office executives from the team office at 638 E. 38th St. west to Meridian and south to the Circle, where 7,500 fans were waiting.

So were Mayor Richard Lugar and Governor Edgar Whitcomb, who jointly declared it to be "Indiana Pacers Day."

"Indianapolis has finally been put on the map," Lugar said. "It's truly a big-league city. For this we will always be grateful to the Indiana Pacers."

Lugar was guilty of some in-the-moment hyperbole. The Indianapolis 500 had done a good job of making the city known to the world long before that. Still, the championship had real-world value. It boosted civic pride, acted as a unifying force, and amplified the brewing argument for a new arena that came to fruition four years later when Market Square Arena was completed.

Later that evening the Pacers were honored again at a ham and beans dinner in the Farmers Building north of the harness racing track at the State Fairgrounds. Hambeens Junction, a local restaurant, helped sponsor the event, which made it possible for fans to buy tickets for $1.25 each. One newspaper article reported about 700 people were turned away.

That idea came from general manager Mike Storen, who had built the Pacers into a championship team and was about to leave to take over the Kentucky Colonels.

"Mike gets all the credit," recalls Bill McGowan, who organized the banquet. "He didn't want a big-shot dinner. He wanted the real fans."

The Pacers' 37-year-old coach, Bob Leonard, and the players returned downtown to mingle with the fans the next day for the annual 500 Festival Parade. They brought up the rear in a line of convertibles containing drivers in the 500-Mile Race, three astronauts, and television celebrities such as Merv Griffin, Edie Adams, Buddy Ebsen, and, most memorably to some of the players, Frank Sutton — better known as Sergeant Carter on "Gomer Pyle."

"The biggest cheers of all were saved for the Indiana Pacers," a story in the Indianapolis News reported. "As they headed up Meridian, dozens of young fans, both girls and boys, flocked to their cars for a handshake or an autograph."

As if all that wasn't enough recognition for one team, Leonard and his wife, Nancy, were included in the pre-race parade laps at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway two days later, waving to fans from another convertible.

"I'd never been on the track before," Nancy recalls. "I didn't realize it was tilted. It was amazing riding around the track. Someone you knew would yell at you and you could actually hear them and see them."

The team that brought on all this commotion played at a turning point in the city's history, and in fact helped create that turning point. Local leaders were diligently working and planning to make Indianapolis a major league city, and winning a championship in a major basketball league that was growing in stature was as good a way as any to project that image.

The Pacers' later ABA championship teams, in 1972 and '73, were more talented than this one but lacked the harmony, raw enthusiasm, and unspoiled demeanor of this one. They didn't win as often or as easily, either.

The 1970 champions' frontline of Roger Brown, Bob Netolicky, and Mel Daniels all had played in the All-Star game at the Fairgrounds Coliseum that season. Point guard Freddie Lewis had played in the All-Star Game two years earlier and would be voted MVP of the game five years later.

Rookie Billy Keller had led Washington High School to the state championship five years earlier and earned Mr. Basketball honors, and had quarterbacked Purdue to the final game of the NCAA tournament the previous season. A late draft choice, he established himself as much more than a local fan favorite in his first season and started throughout the playoffs.

The rest of the 10-man playoff roster included guards John Barnhill and Tom Thacker, both veterans of the NBA, and forwards Art Becker, Oliver Darden, and Jay Miller.

1969-70 Pacers: Stats and Where Are They Now »

Each player accepted his role. Each player was happy to be there.

The Pacers won a league-best 59 games in the 84-game regular season, eight more than any of the 10 other ABA teams. The could have surpassed 60 victories without much trouble, but had gone 5-7 over the final month of the season because Leonard went to a platoon system to save legs for the playoffs.

The highlight of the regular season came in a 177-135 victory over Pittsburgh at the Coliseum on Sunday, April 12. It was a 2 p.m. game, the third in less than 48 hours, and the third-to-last of the regular season. It might be panned as a mockery today, but was accepted gleefully then. Pittsburgh was a poor team, winning just 29 games that season, and the Pacers were fouling quickly at the end to get the ball back so they could break the record of 172 points they had set the previous year.

Still, 177 points don't come easily under any circumstance and none of the Pacers went longer than 31 minutes, so it wasn't a total farce. It remains the most points scored by an ABA or NBA team in a non-overtime game. Only two Pacers failed to reach double figures, but they contributed in other ways. Daniels, who took just 11 shots, grabbed 17 rebounds. Thacker, who took just five, had nine rebounds and 11 assists.

If any one game could reflect a team's balance and depth, that was it.

"We are ready for the playoffs," Leonard told reporters afterward.

The Pacers were the obvious favorite to win the championship. Barnhill even predicted late in the season they would not lose more than three games in the playoffs and he turned out to be right. They swept Carolina in four games in the first round and then eliminated Kentucky in five games in the second.

Keller was called into the starting lineup in the first game against Kentucky in the second round because Lewis came down with the flu and he kept that spot the rest of the way. When Lewis was healthy enough to play again, Barnhill went to the bench. Keller made his greatest postseason contribution in that series, when he clearly outplayed Kentucky's All-Star guard, Louie Dampier.

Freddie Lewis (left), Bob Netolicky (middle), and Billy Keller (right) filled out the Pacers' starting lineup in the 1970 ABA Finals. (Photo Credit: Pacers Sports & Entertainment)

That left the championship series against the Stars, who had put on a late rush to win 43 games and barely qualify for the playoffs. Bill Sharman, who by then had been inducted into the Naismith Hall of Fame as a player and would be let in again 34 years later as a coach, directed the Stars to an upset of the Western Division's best regular season team, Denver, in the second round.

The Pacers easily won Game 1 on a Friday evening in Indianapolis, 109-93, as Brown, Netolicky, Daniels, and Lewis each scored between 18 and 22 points.

Game 2, on Sunday afternoon, made history as the first ABA game to be televised nationally other than an All-Star game. Don Criqui and Pat Summerall handled the broadcast for CBS. Summerall was a prominent football announcer for the network, but who else was it going to get when it hadn't been carrying basketball games?

The Pacers wore their navy blue road uniforms in Game 2 because their home whites didn't contrast well enough with the Stars' powder blue road uniforms. It made for an odd sight in an era when the home team always wore white, but it was a small sacrifice to make for the opportunity for unprecedented exposure. The broadcast was blacked out locally but was a point of pride for fans who craved national recognition.

The Pacers won that game less easily than the first, 114-111. Netolicky led the scoring with 32 points, hitting 14-of-22 shots, including 10 in a row in the second half. He also grabbed the game's biggest rebound with six seconds left, drawing a foul and hitting two free throws to complete the scoring.

"I played that way for my man Johnny Rutherford," said Netolicky, a rabid race fan. "He inspired me yesterday when he almost got the pole for the 500-mile race."

Mel Daniels added 31 points and 27 rebounds and permitted Stars center Craig Raymond just eight points.

"I thought we played terrible," Daniels said. "But Los Angeles played a terrific game, especially that second unit."

The ABA schedules were notoriously illogical and unforgiving in those days, even in the playoffs. After Game 2, both teams headed for the airport and boarded the same flight to Anaheim, where Games 3 and 4 would be played the following two nights. Netolicky remembers migrating to the first-class section where he got a look at Conrad Hilton Sr., the 82-year old founder of the hotel chain.

The Pacers lost Game 3, 109-105, after squandering a 21-point at the end of the first quarter but came back the following night to take a 3-1 series lead with a 142-120 victory.

And here is where Roger Brown began cementing his legend.

Brown scored 53 points, still a franchise playoff scoring record, while hitting 18-of-29 shots and 14-of-16 free throws. He also grabbed 13 rebounds and passed out six assists, both team highs.

Brown was just a few days short of his 28th birthday and at his physical and emotional peak. His body hadn't begun breaking down and he hadn't yet been softened by success or his poor health habits. He was virtually unstoppable offensively, living up to the "Man of a Thousand Moves" nickname some newspaper reporters had attached to him, and he played with the regal bearing that made his more common nickname, The Rajah, a perfect fit.

Brown cited two factors in his 53-point outburst: news shoes and miniature golf.

He wore navy blue adidas "Superstars," a recently released leather model accented with three stripes that was about to take over the national marketplace for basketball shoes from the Converse Chuck Taylors. He said they made him quicker. Keller, for one, thought it strange a player would wear a new pair of shoes in a game without breaking them in first, but this was a break from canvas shoes of old.

Brown also found a way to calm his nerves. Admittedly putting pressure on himself earlier in the series, he had played miniature golf with a few teammates that afternoon near the team hotel, which was across the street from Disneyland.

"I thought walking around the course would relax me," he said.

The Pacers had a chance to wrap up the championship four days later, on a Saturday afternoon, back at the Coliseum in another game broadcast by CBS — with "color cameras" the Indianapolis Star pointed out. Champagne was on ice in the locker room and the city was braced to celebrate on its own turf.

Pat Vidan, the longtime starter for the "500," met the team at the airport and waved a white flag, signifying one lap to go. The headline in the Indianapolis News read, "Pacers Are Near Own Victory Lane." A standing room only crowd of more than 10,000 fans turned out to see it unfold.

The players, however, succumbed to the moment. They admitted later they were emotionally uptight. And one was physically tight.

Netolicky had gone water skiing the previous day on Morse Reservoir with his attorney, Mike Quinn. Capable of slaloming on one ski, he put a strain on arm and shoulder muscles that he hadn't used in basketball. It's no wonder, then, he hit just 7-of-22 shots and fired a few air balls in the next day's game, a 117-113 loss in overtime.

"I missed about 10 easy shots," he recalls. "If I hadn't gone water skiing, we would have won it at home."

He says he waited about four years before admitting his misadventure to Leonard.

"The jerk," Leonard says today, not angrily.

Netolicky wasn't the only Pacer missing shots, though. Lewis hit 6-of-21 attempts and Brown's 10-footer at the buzzer that could have won the game in regulation rimmed out. Brown, however, owed no apologies.  He finished with 39 points, 13 rebounds, and eight assists.

The players have acknowledged they failed to handle the moment, then and now.

"We were all nervous," Lewis says. "That's why we blew the game. We were like, 'Oh, boy, we're going to win this thing at home before our fans!' But they fought us to the wire."

Leonard, though, promised the championship would come.

"We will see what they (the Stars) do Monday night, and if we don't win Monday, we'll win Tuesday," he said. "The Indiana Pacers will win the ABA title; you can be sure of that."

So, the two teams headed back to California for Game 6, this time to Los Angeles instead of Anaheim. The downtown Sports Arena, where the NBA Lakers had played before The Forum opened in 1967, was available for this one, unlike in Games 3 and 4. A crowd of 8,233, a record for the Stars in L.A., showed up, including Lakers stars Jerry West and Elgin Baylor, comedian Bill Cosby, and movie star Mickey Rooney. Keller isn't sure, but he believes noted actress Debbie Reynolds was on hand as well.

More than likely they had come to see Brown, who was making headlines in the Los Angeles newspapers. So maybe it wasn't such a bad thing Netolicky had gone water skiing, after all. It gave Brown an extra opportunity to put on a show, and in the world's entertainment capital.

If he was anxious, he didn't let on. Nancy Leonard recalls standing to the side of aisle leading from the locker room to the court, anxiety threatening to get the best of her.

"Roger came by and took one look at me and said, 'My god, you look like you're about to go to the death chamber,'" she remembers. "He didn't seem nervous at all."

Brown went on to score 45 points, 21 of them coming on seven 3-pointers — a franchise record at the time — to lead a 111-107 victory that clinched the championship. Lewis hit the game's biggest shot, a 16-footer with 16 seconds left, and added a free throw nine seconds later. Brown, fittingly, scored the Pacers' final points with two free throws with two seconds remaining.

The Pacers got a break when L.A. center Craig Raymond sprained his ankle and had to sit out the last 19 minutes, but the Stars fought to the end without him. Literally, on one occasion. Netolicky, who finished with 14 points and 13 rebounds, exchanged blows with George Stone in the fourth quarter and needed eight stitches to close a cut above his left eye. Neither player was kicked out, which is how things tended to go in the ABA.

Brown let down his guard when the final buzzer sounded, rushing to the sideline to hug Leonard. He had just put on a postseason tour de force never to be forgotten in Pacers lore by averaging 28.5 points, 10.1 rebounds, and 5.6 assists over the three postseason rounds and 45.7 points on 71 percent shooting over the final three games against the Stars. He had played every second in those three except for part of the final minute in the Game 4 blowout when he scored 53 points.

The locker room champagne celebration that had eluded the Pacers in the previous game in Indianapolis came off this time. But once things calmed down and the players began to shower and dress, Daniels — who had grabbed 27 rebounds in the game and blocked a shot late in the game — experienced what he claimed years later to be his career highlight: Brown walked across the room, kissed him on the forehead and said, "Can you believe we just won this championship?"

Brown created a lot of lasting memories that night.

"You have to have a Roger Brown in order to win a championship," Darden says. "The Stars knew they had to stop him to have a chance and they couldn't do it. He put on a show. And I had the best seat in the house."

1970s

Statements On The Passing of Bobby “Slick” Leonard

Hillman was a Slam Dunk in the Front Office, Too

Pacers Players Not Immune From Racial Discrimination

The 1969-70 ABA Champion Pacers

Remembering the Pacers' First Championship, 50 Years Later

Pacers Found a Happy Home in Anderson

Costas Joining Former Players for ABA Reunion

A Closer Look at the Pacers' Hall-of-Fame Frontline