Personal Duel

Never have the baskets taken such a beating. Shooting with uncommon skill and uncanny accuracy, the National Basketball Association's towering pros are scoring at a record clip. No fewer than 16 players are racking up 20 points a night. The N.B.A.'s average winning score is 122 points a game. But in all the high scoring crew, no one can match the marksmanship of Philadelphia's fantastic Wilt Chamberlain, a reedy-legged Negro who is so tall (7 ft. 2 in.) that he can reach up and drop the ball through a10-ft.-high basket while his feet are planted firmly on the floor. A third-year pro with a bewildering variety of shots, Chamberlain last week was riding the hottest scoring streak in basketball history: in five games, he had run up a total of 300 points--including a record-smashing 78-point* spree against the Los Angeles Lakers.

Running Away. But while other teams are running up the score, the Boston Celtics are running away from the league. The season is only a few weeks old, and the Celtics have won so often (21 of their first 24 games) that they are odds-on favorites to win their sixth consecutive Eastern Division title and their fourth straight N.B.A. championship. The performance is all the more remarkable because not one Boston player ranks among the N.B.A.'s top ten scorers. Key to Boston's low-scoring success: defense. The other teams make their big scores against each other, not against the ball-hawking Celtics, who never concede a basket until the game is safely locked away. Stingiest of all the Celtics is their bearded center, Bill Russell, 27--the N.B.A.'s Most Valuable Player, and the best defensive strategist in basketball.

Last week on the mirror-slick court in Boston Garden, the Celtics played the Philadelphia Warriors, and 6,700 fans turned out to watch one more classic personal duel between Attacker Chamberlain and Defender Russell. In the dressing room before the game, Russell was sick to his stomach with tension. "All I want to do is get this over with." he said. "I could even do without half time." Carefully, he reviewed his mental "book" on Chamberlain, plotted his strategy: force him to take hook shots, keep him away from the basket. "Defense is a science," said Russell. "But anything I do against Chamberlain is a calculated risk."

Flailing Arms. The first half belonged to Russell. Tireless and amazingly agile, he stretched his 6-ft. 101n. frame until it seemed to tower over the taller Chamberlain. When Warrior guards tried to feed Pivot Man Chamberlain with soft, overhead passes, Russell was there--arms flailing--to bat the ball away. When Chamberlain leaped for his famed "fallaway" push shot, Russell leaped with him leaning into Wilt just enough to disturb his delicate aim. By half time, Chamberlain had scored just nine field goals, was so frustrated that he shook a clenched fist angrily at the air. Only in the second half, when Russell relaxed, did Chamberlain begin to click. By game's end, the duel had turned into something of a standoff: Chamberlain had scored 52 points, but the Celtics won, 123-113. "Winning is the important thing," said Team Man Russell, as he slouched wearily off the floor. "If a sorcerer told me, Til break your arm and your team will win the championship,' I'd be walking around right now with my arm in a sling."

*The old record: 71 points, set in 1960 by the Lakers' own high-scoring (38.1 points per game) Elgin Baylor.

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