Lenny Wilkens: The quiet genius who made basketball better

By all accounts, Lenny Wilkens never needed to shout to be heard.

He coached with calm authority, played with purpose, and lived with humility — a rare trifecta that spanned more than five decades in the NBA.

When he passed away Sunday at age 88, basketball didn’t just lose a Hall of Famer. It lost one of the few people who truly made the game better than he found it.

Life of Firsts

Wilkens’ story was one of persistence and poise. Raised in Brooklyn by his mother after his father’s death, he learned toughness long before the word became a basketball cliché.

By the time he made it to Providence, he wasn’t supposed to be there — he didn’t even play high school ball until his senior year. But he became a two-time All-American anyway, and in 1960, the St. Louis Hawks drafted him sixth overall. His rookie salary? $8,000.

From there, Wilkens became a nine-time All-Star, leading the NBA in assists in 1970 and earning a reputation as one of the smartest floor generals of his era.

At just 6-feet tall, he dribbled mostly left but somehow got anywhere he wanted. He later became the second Black head coach in NBA history, taking over the Seattle SuperSonics while still playing — and eventually guiding that same franchise to its lone championship in 1979.

The Coach’s Coach

Wilkens’ coaching résumé was unmatched for its combination of longevity and consistency. When he retired, he held the record for most wins in NBA history (1,332).

He led five different teams — Seattle, Cleveland, Atlanta, Toronto, and New York — to the playoffs, often rebuilding rosters from the ground up.

“He’s a mentor to all of us who coach the game,” Pacers coach Rick Carlisle once said. “A true NBA treasure.”

What separated Wilkens wasn’t just his calm presence. It was his belief in the team above the individual. He was the coach who trusted Craig Ehlo for the go-ahead bucket in that 1989 Bulls-Cavs playoff game — before Michael Jordan answered with The Shot.

It’s a perfect snapshot of Wilkens’ faith in role players and his quiet courage to coach his own way.

More Than Wins

Wilkens’ impact stretched far beyond the sideline. He was a pioneer, a Black athlete navigating a segregated America in the early 1960s.

He faced racism in St. Louis and used it as fuel rather than bitterness.

“I wanted to leave places better than I found them,” he once said.

Seattle never forgot that. Four months ago, the city unveiled a statue of Wilkens outside Climate Pledge Arena — a tribute to the man who brought it its only title and decades of community service.

Washington Governor Bob Ferguson called him “a unifier, on and off the court.”

Legacy Lives On

Wilkens’ basketball credentials speak for themselves: player, coach, Dream Team assistant, and three-time Hall of Famer.

But the real legacy is quieter — a lifetime of teaching, mentoring, and leading by example.

He and his wife Marilyn were married 63 years, living most of their lives in the city that embraced him. For all the games, the milestones, and the history he touched, maybe the best description of Wilkens’ life came from his own words:

“I always wanted to leave places better than the way I found it.”

He did. Every single one.