For a particular generation of New York Knicks’ devotees, the sight of Willis Reed valiantly striding on the court for the seventh game against the Los Angeles Lakers during the 1970 NBA finals is held in the highest esteem. Despite the debilitating impact of his torn right thigh muscle leaving him barely functional, Reed’s shocking inclusion in the opening roster managed to electrify an expectant Madison Square Garden audience. The team was inspired and won the celebrated match.
One ardent follower, Richard Lewis, would regale women on dates with an accurate recitation of Marv Albert’s notable commentary from that game, a peculiar tactic that occasionally yielded success. He reveals that one of his former girlfriends from Amsterdam was so touched by his ‘Reed routine’, despite having no understanding of what a ‘Knick’ was, she’d be quick to engage in amorous activities.
In his partly humorous, somewhat touching piece penned in 1991 for the New York Times, Lewis conveyed his existence grounded in finding a woman who wouldn’t embarrass him in public, and the hope of Knicks winning another championship. Although he eventually found love with Joyce Lapinsky, whom he first encountered at Ringo Starr’s album launch party, his passing at 76 due to a heart attack meant he wasn’t able to witness another title victory for his team.
Lewis was born in the summer of ’47, three days before Larry David, at the Brooklyn Jewish Hospital. The two crossed paths for the first time 13 years later at a summer camp run by the New York Military Academy taking place in Cornwall-on-Hudson. The significantly shorter Lewis took umbrage at David’s tall, daunting figure. He reassured himself that he was vastly superior in shooting than the adversary he instantly disliked. Many years after this initial encounter, the two met again and formed a close bond while making a name for themselves as budding comedians in the Village’s comedy clubs. They could, however, never concur on who was better in basketball.
David proudly declared, “I was a superior athlete. I was a versatile player with an array of techniques. I was challenging to defend against. My skills included being able to dart both to the left and right, I was capable of throwing a jump shot and I was an excellent player at retrieving rebounds.”
The complex relationship between them, filled with playful rivalry and jest was brought to the spotlight, albeit in an amplified form, in the show “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” the last appearance on Lewis’s diverse acting portfolio. First getting attention for stand-up routines that showcased his neurotic style and sold out large-scale venues such as Carnegie Hall before he retired from performing in 2018, his roles have been varied: a guest-role in “Leaving Las Vegas”, playing a recurring character of a rabbi in “Seventh Heaven”, and starring alongside Jamie Lee Curtis in a popular ABC show, “Anything but Love”. His distinctive portrayal of Prince John, complete with a roaming facial mole, in Mel Brooks’s “Robin Hood – Men in Tights” also stands out.
Known as the “Franz Kafka of contemporary comedy” by Brooks, he had a level of fame that allowed him a seat in the Celebrity Row at the Garden, an esteemed position between Spike Lee and Peter Falk, and even had Billy Joel reference his life in the opening verse of “My Life.” He spearheaded a television advertisement that promoted NBA and featured his humorous quest for romance. His fame also led him to being invited by Bill Clinton to the Oval Office, where the then-president wished to discuss his role as a basketball game co-commentator between the Knicks and the Washington Bullets the previous night.
Basketball has been a significant theme throughout his whole life. One of his earliest memories included watching a Knicks’ game along with his parents. In his brutally honest memoir about mental health and addiction problems, “The Other Great Depression,” he stated his initial experience with opium during his days as an Ohio State University student in the 1960s led him to desire playing basketball. For a considerable amount of time, he was a regular at an exclusive weekly pickup game organised by the late Garry Shandling at his Brentwood residence. Following his death, a popular video clip of Lewis from his interview with Conan O’Brien, where he amusingly discussed his encounter with Shaquille O’Neal’s notable physique in the Lakers’ locker room, became widely circulated online.
A quarter of a century ago, he was hailed by his former educational institution as one of its most illustrious past students in their publicity materials. Unfortunately, this high accolade was tarnished by the description of his profession as an “actor, writer, comedian, drunk”. This was particularly stinging considering that, after a lengthy period of substance and alcohol misuse, Lewis, with a helping hand from Ringo, had achieved sobriety and managed to maintain it for the final thirty years of his existence. Not only that, he guided others along the same sober journey. With his characteristic blend of humour, he used the latest episode of Curb and the platform provided by an Alcoholics Anonymous assembly to test out jokes for a possible comedy show. Even in darkness, he found the light of humour. This was his life mission; it serves as his lasting legacy.