LAKERS RECALL GENTLE GIANT.

Byline: Howard Beck Staff Writer

Wilt Chamberlain's physical prowess made him an unstoppable force between the baselines. Ironically, it also was the source of some of his greatest emotional pain off the court during and after his 14-year NBA career.

Those who knew Chamberlain remember a gentle giant - a Goliath, with an ego to match - but with an equally big heart that made him vulnerable and sensitive to fans' negative perceptions of him.

Chamberlain, who died of an apparent heart attack at age 63, was the first of his kind, a 7-foot-1 athlete who simply dominated opponents from 1959-73. Chamberlain's immense size evoked both fear and admiration. He longed to be accepted and cheered, but as longtime Lakers assistant coach Bill Bertka recalls, ``He was always perceived as a villain.''

``His (biography) was called, `Goliath.' Nobody loves Goliath,'' noted Bertka, who was a Lakers scout when Chamberlain arrived in 1968. ``You had this perception that he was sometimes unapproachable. But after he had a severe knee injury (in the 1970-71 season), he came back, and he didn't feel useful, didn't feel as dominant. But for the first time in his life as an athlete, he felt loved in Los Angeles by the fans. . . . He said, `I never experienced that, and I really did feel excited and loved and it stimulated me.' If there's any memory of Wilt now, that is it.''

That's a picture few would imagine of the larger-than-life Chamberlain. But it was a theme repeated many times Tuesday in the wake of his death.

Chamberlain was always stung by criticism that he wasn't as great as Bill Russell, who won 11 championships to his two. But he was also hurt by fans' fear of him, even by innocent jokes along the lines of ``How's the weather up there?'' Friends said it made him feel different, isolated.

``I think that's probably the thing that most touched me,'' said former teammate and Lakers executive Jerry West. ``He had this bluster about him, and on the inside he was a soft guy. There were times when we'd be on the road and he didn't have anyone to have dinner with. And we'd have dinner in the (hotel) room together. And we talked about a lot of things other than basketball.

``He did have a soft side and he was really perplexed that people would get on him and maybe boo him. He couldn't figure that out because he thought he was a good guy. . . . I think that made him stronger.''

Since his retirement in 1973, Chamberlain was a reclusive figure, surfacing only occasionally for a Lakers event - the reunion of the '72 championship team in 1992 (on Hearn's urging) and the retirement of teammate Gail Goodrich's jersey number in 1996.

Otherwise, Chamberlain has mostly kept a low profile, even speaking only rarely to old friends like Bertka, West and longtime Lakers broadcaster Chick Hearn.

Hearn, who shops at the same Encino grocery store frequented by Chamberlain, last saw him 12 days ago and said he ``looked fine. He always looked fine.'' Chamberlain had continued to play volleyball, his second sports love, and work out regularly.

But West revealed Chamberlain had heart problems and was in need of hip-replacement surgery, and former Lakers trainer Frank O'Neill said Chamberlain had recently been under a cardiologist's care.

Yet no one was prepared for the news that came Tuesday.

``It's really a sad day,'' said former teammate Tommy Hawkins, ``because you're talking about one of the incredible giants of not only professional basketball, but sports.''

Chamberlain was a genuine superstar in professional sports, but he joined a Lakers team already anchored by West and Elgin Baylor. When coach Bill Sharman convinced him to sacrifice scoring to provide more defense and rebounding, the Lakers became champions in 1972.

``It was a tough pill for him to swallow, but he did swallow it,'' Hearn said. ``I found him to be not only a big man physically but a big man as a friend. . . . He loved his mom, called her every day and did all the things a good son does. I liked the man very much.''

So did O'Neill, the Lakers' trainer, who first met Chamberlain in 1958. O'Neill recalls an incident when his son, Michael, was in the Forum parking lot with a wad of certificates for free basketball shoes, courtesy of the Lakers, that he planned to give to friends. He was about to be mugged when Chamberlain walked up.

``He came over and said, `Hey ``Frank Jr.'' what's going on?' When he spoke to him, all those guys scattered. My son felt those guys were going to jump him and Wilt sensed it,'' O'Neill recalled. ``In a lot of different ways, he was a kind and caring individual. A lot of people didn't know that.''

Ex-trainer O'Neill: glimpses of Wilt

Frank O'Neill, the Lakers' trainer from 1960-74, knew Wilt Chamberlain intimately. A few of his remembrances:

``He always used to wear rubber bands on his wrists. . . . I asked him, `Why do you wear these dumb rubber bands?' He said, `When I was a kid, I had to have something to hold my socks up because my socks were old, they wouldn't stay up.' So he always had rubber bands.''

``When we were in the playoffs and we knew we needed a big game, sometimes he would beat me to the dressing room. He'd get an engineer or maintenance guy to let him in, and he'd go in the doctor's room and lie down on the table, turn off the lights and take a nap. I learned any time I caught him taking a nap, he was going to have a hell of a game, and he never let me down in that respect.''

``The guy used to sweat like you wouldn't believe. He literally rained perspiration off on you. So I came up with this idea of a headband, and he went for it. Wilt wore them the rest of his career. I'd give him a dry one at the end of each period.''

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photo, box

PHOTO Wilt Chamberlain, who once scored 100 points in a game, goes up for a finger roll for Philadelphia.

AP File Photo

BOX: Ex-trainer O'Neill: Glimpses of Wilt (see text)