‘I’m pulling for them’: Sixers legends see links between 1983 title team and today’s stars

One in a series of stories remembering the 1982-83 76ers, one of the NBA’s best teams ever.

David Adelman is typically comfortable speaking in front of crowds. But when the 51-year-old 76ers minority owner stood before the 1982-83 team inside Live! Casino’s The Prime Rib steakhouse a couple weeks ago, he “froze up for a minute.”

“You have to understand, I had a Dr. J poster and Maurice Cheeks poster on my wall as a kid,” said Adelman, a billionaire who is one of the public voices of the Sixers’ plan to build a Center City arena. “I was like, ‘Oh my God, these guys are here.’ …

“It was pretty awe-inspiring for me to just be in the room with those guys. I converted from the owner to a fan.”

Adelman’s starstruck reaction exemplified what that Sixers team meant to Philly 40 years ago, as a group stuffed with future Hall of Famers and ideal role players that collectively conquered past heartbreak to roll to an NBA championship. And as the Sixers celebrate that milestone anniversary — they were honored in front of the Wells Fargo Center crowd last month — they remain a beacon for an organization about to begin a postseason run with loads of stakes.

“I was like, ‘Listen, you guys represent everything that’s what this city is about, what this team represents, the jersey you guys wore and what it means to the players today,’” Adelman said, recalling the message he delivered once he regained his composure. “We look back and say, ‘We aspire [to be like you].’

“Especially as we’re on the precipice of a playoff run — and a deep run, I believe — that’s the synergy. The way that those guys were able to excite a crowd, I think the crowd feels the same way about this team.”

Connecting those past Sixers with the present team requires some human links, considering no current players (and several under-40 staffers) were born during the 1982-83 season.

Tyrese Maxey learned about Julius Erving from his basketball-coach father, Tyrone, who called Dr. J “Jordan before Jordan, doing the stuff in the air and flying.” Coach Doc Rivers, who was a star junior at Marquette that season, appreciated the “audacity” of Moses Malone’s iconic “fo’, fo’, fo’” interview, guaranteeing the Sixers would win all three playoff series 4-0 en route to clinching the title with ease (they lost once, to the Milwaukee Bucks in the Eastern Conference finals).

Yet the primary daily bridge between eras is Allen Lumpkin, who was a ball boy for the 1982-83 team and is the longtime executive director of team logistics. Lumpkin said he will sometimes “kind of put a bug in their ear, because people don’t understand how great that team was.”

He’ll tell players about the “forgotten” Andrew Toney, who earned the nickname “the Boston Strangler” for his dominance over the Celtics before foot problems derailed his career. And about Marc Iavaroni, the rookie who began his career overseas before emerging as a starter and answer to a trivia question. And about Earl Cureton’s hook shot against Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. And about Hall of Famer Bobby Jones’ willingness to come off the bench for the betterment of the team.

“Every guy had a piece of that championship,” Lumpkin said while sitting inside Milwaukee’s Fiserv Forum last week.

Those players created, as reserve guard Clint Richardson described, a “drama-free zone” on and off the court. That collection of personalities — fueled by high basketball IQ and acceptance of their roles — propelled the Sixers past their three Finals defeats in six seasons. In the process, Richardson added, it jolted a franchise he believed was “flatlining a little bit.”

“I don’t know if we saved the organization,” Richardson said by phone this week. “But we certainly made it relevant again and we brought the organization back to life. …

“We established the standard of this organization and, also, we established the way you construct a team and put a team together.”

Perhaps that’s why Lumpkin had zero hesitation while dropping a, “Yep, without a doubt” when asked if he recognizes parallels between this season’s team and the 1982-83 squad. Erving, Richardson, and Jones separately concurred.

These Sixers have an MVP frontrunner in Joel Embiid, boasting a blend of force and skill that Jones compared to that of Malone. The questions surrounding how Erving and Malone would complement each other following the massive trade before the 1982-83 season is similar to the initial outside speculation about how Embiid and James Harden would play together following last season’s blockbuster deadline deal. Jones also appreciates the toughness of role players such as P.J. Tucker and Georges Niang.

“This team is sort of the same way [as ours],” Jones said. “… All the guys just seem like they’re ready when called upon, so it’s fun to watch and I’m hoping for the best.”

Despite residing back in his hometown of Charlotte, Jones said he watches “every Sixer game that I can” because of the pull he still feels to the team and city. That fondness first sprouted on one of his first days as a Sixer, in 1978, when fans offered to watch his car upon arriving at a South Philly community function. These days, he receives regular invitations to return for visits and an annual Christmas gift from the organization.

“There is a connection,” Jones said, “and I don’t think I’ll ever lose that.”

That bond is naturally strongest with his former championship teammates, which Rivers (who won the 2008 NBA title as the Celtics’ coach) compared to a blood transfusion and that Adelman immediately noticed at last month’s welcome gathering. The following day, the 1982-83 team dropped by the practice facility in Camden for shootaround, presenting the opportunity to forge personal relationships with the current team.

Richardson chatted with Tobias Harris, Shake Milton, and Niang, whom he called “good kids … that have been able to understand it’s bigger than them.” He encouraged them to stick together as they begin their playoff march, noting “if you’re hiking Mount Everest or Mount Rainier, if somebody screws up, they can kill everybody else. … It’s a small sacrifice for the glory to climb to the top of the mountain.”

He also advised them to welcome any adversity that strikes, because his team’s years-long quest also came with struggles. After the Sixers lost to the Los Angeles Lakers in the 1982 Finals, for example, thoughts crept into Richardson’s head about how, after he retired, he would converse with people who lamented that the Sixers never reached the pinnacle.

Instead, they became a historic group that still makes a billionaire minority owner feel like a preteen meeting his idols.

And on the 40th anniversary of their title run, those Sixers would welcome passing that championship legacy onto the current team.

“The pressure would be off if they could win the championship, and we would be like the ‘67 team,” Jones said. “And I’m pulling for them to do that.”