In the Name of the Father Waltons take after Bill, and vice versa, San Diego Union-Tribune, The (CA), February 8, 1994, Author: TOM SHANAHAN; Staff Writer
Bill Walton and Swen Nater played together at UCLA on two championship clubs; Nater was Walton's beackup. They were rival centers in the NBA, teammates again with the San Diego Clippers. Today they're both basketball dads.
The Walton Gang at UCLA was the best college basketball team in the land. Now it's five big kids -- Bill Walton and his four sons shooting baskets.
Bill is standing in the driveway at his Marston Hills home beneath a glass backboard perched above the garage. Adam, a 6-foot-10 senior at Torrey Pines High; Nathan, a 6-5 sophomore on Torrey's varsity; Luke, a 6-3 eighth-grader; and Chris, a 5-9 sixth-grader, are putting up shots.
The 6-11 Walton, a television basketball analyst these days, doesn't move well after years of foot and ankle injuries through-out his college and NBA careers. But even stationary, with his wingspan, he slaps away carelessly taken shots as he offers steady commentary.
Young Chris, last to take the court, grabs a loose ball and buries his first shot.
"Way to go, Chris," Bill says. "Way to come out hot, right away."
Walton's work keeps him on the road, but on this winter night at home he isn't outside because he wants his kids to follow his footsteps. He followed his kids.
"I'll be working in the house, and I'll hear the basketball bouncing," Bill said. "It's a real thrill . . . but no more a thrill than when I walk into the living room and see them curled up by the fireplace with a good book."
The pressure to follow a famous father could be burdensome. Walton dealt with it by borrowing from his father. Walton's basketball career was born at Helix High in La Mesa, although neither his father, Ted, nor mother, Gloria, was sports-minded.
"I try to do what my father did for me," said Walton. "He was interested in literature and music, but he encouraged me to participate in as many things as possible in life."
Adam says when he was 5, family friends gave him a Nerf ball and basket. Bill promptly took them away. By 7, Adam started playing basketball with friends.
"When the boys wanted to play (in youth leagues), Bill said that was fine because it was their choice," said their mother, Susie. "I think playing the same sport on the same teams has made them support each other. They haven't been competitive."
The boys live with their mother in Carmel Valley since Bill and Susie were divorced 4 1/2 years ago. Once the brothers followed Adam, it wasn't long before Susie found herself spending Saturdays driving all over the county for as many as eight youth league games a day.
Bill used to be a regular at Torrey Pines games until his recent success in television kept him traveling.
"I'd like to be able to go to all the games, but I have a job," he said. "It's one of the major disappointments in my life. I know how important it was to me when my dad was in the gym."
Adam, who has a basketball scholarship to LSU, was the first to confront expectations. It hasn't been that bad, he says. He can say this because he's read about Seton Hall's Danny Hurley, who quit his team this season, explaining the pressure of following his older brother, Bobby, a star at Duke, grew too heavy.
"Reporters are always asking me about it, and fans and players are always saying it ('Walton, you're not as good as your dad!')," Adam said. "I don't let it affect me at all. I love playing basketball."
Adam averages 10 points a game for the Falcons, ranked fourth in the county, and has a soft touch with both hands. Nathan, averaging seven points, is often the first substitute.
Once his sons took up the sport, Bill felt they could gain from outside expectations, even if unreasonable.
'I believe pressure on people is good," Bill said. "When you have to deal with pressure, it helps you for the rest of your life. I don't put basketball pressure on them, but I put pressure on them to be first-class people. I want them to grow and get involved in something they love. I want them to wake up in the morning and say, 'I can't wait to get to work.' "
Walton is known for many passions. Basketball fans first learned of him at UCLA as a fiery All-American in season and a rebellious student out of season.
But his sons describe a passive 41-year-old man. Nathan says it wasn't until last year, when Bill was inducted into basketball's Hall of Fame, that he understood his father's fame and talent.
"He loves to spend time looking at all his plants in the back yard," said Nathan, 16. "He plays the piano -- he can't really play -- but he takes lessons twice a day when he's home."
On summer rafting trips to Idaho, the boys pay careful attention to vegetation. They'll imitate Bill, explaining to each other why trees on mountains grow differently on the north slope than the south.
"They're making fun of me when they do that," Bill says, "but it makes me feel good that they do know how to identify plants."
The boys also have come to appreciate Bill's music. He's long been known as a Grateful Dead fan.
"I used to hate them," Adam said. "Now they're my favorite group. My teammate, Sterling Wyman, and I even asked our coach (John Farrell) if we could play Dead tapes during warmups."
Once on a long drive home from a basketball camp, Nathan woke up and said, "Hey, dad. Got any of that Bob Dylan guy's music? He's cool."
Walton smiled and popped in a tape.