Inside the 1969 NBA Finals: Balloons, heartbreak, and a Lakers collapse

“Those damn balloons are gonna stay up there.” That’s what Bill Russell told Jerry West during warmups ahead of the 1969 NBA Finals. The league was still in its early days, wrapping up a second golden age after the Mikan era, and closing out the most dominant run basketball had ever seen. Russell was entering his final season—now as a player-coach—and once again faced a Lakers team built to finally topple their eternal rivals. Boston had blocked their title hopes six times in the past decade. This time, L.A. loaded up: Wilt Chamberlain, the record-breaker himself, joined West and Elgin Baylor to bring the championship back to the City of Angels for the first time since 1954. It felt like their moment—real, tangible. The Lakers were the heavy favorites. The Celtics, fading and full of doubt. With the series tied 3–3 after six games, the entire basketball world watched the Forum as the stage was set for the NBA’s most thrilling season finale to date.

Even the biggest franchises have their darkest days. That includes the Lakers, arguably the NBA’s greatest franchise by story and by silverware, even though they trail Boston in titles after the Celtics took the lead again last season. Back then, it was all Boston. Eleven rings in thirteen years, all orbiting around Bill Russell. Point guard Sam Jones won ten with him. Red Auerbach coached nine of those, still only surpassed by Phil Jackson, who hit ten in 2009 and eleven a year later. Auerbach was a visionary: in 1950, he drafted Chuck Cooper, the first Black player in league history, and 14 years later, he started the NBA’s first all-Black lineup.

In 1967, after missing the Finals for the first time since ’56, Auerbach stepped away from coaching (cigar and all) and took charge behind the scenes, staying with the franchise until his death in 2006. Russell took the reins as player-coach, a role no longer permitted, although LeBron sometimes seems to do both. In 1968, Russell led Boston to a tenth championship, again over the Lakers. The pain never left Elgin Baylor (0-for-8 in Finals) or Jerry West, who would finally win a title three years later but never got over the torment of facing Russell’s Celtics. West reportedly vowed never to wear green again. No color in the spectrum has ever been more hated.

The Lakers brought in Chamberlain to handle Russell and break through. At 7′1″, Wilt towered over his rival. He shattered records with the Philadelphia Warriors (later the Sixers) but, like the Lakers, was often stopped by Boston. He had won a ring in ’67, the one year Boston missed the Finals, but even his 100-point game and 50+ scoring averages couldn’t overcome the Celtics wall. Van Breda Kolff coached a star-studded Lakers squad to 55 wins in the West, seven more than Boston, who finished with 48 in a rocky season signaling their end.

In the playoffs, L.A. beat the San Francisco Warriors (4–2) and the Atlanta Hawks (4–1) to reach their seventh Finals since ’59—all against Boston. The Celtics, fourth in the East, got past the Sixers (4–1) and Knicks (4–2), who had swept the 57-win Bullets in the semis, knocking out MVP Wes Unseld. For the first time, the Lakers had won more regular season games than Boston and, for the first time ever, had home-court advantage in the Finals. It was win or bust in a rivalry that would later explode in the ’80s with Magic vs. Bird and spark again in the 2000s with Kobe vs. the Big Three. Those later battles (2008, 2010) echoed what was built in ’69: the most iconic war in basketball history.

A brutal battle in the NBA ’69 Finals

The Forum hosted the first two games. Russell opted not to double-team West—and paid for it. West dropped 53 points, torching defenders Sam Jones and Larry Siegfried. A late Chamberlain bucket sealed a 120–118 win in a game with 21 lead changes and 27 rebounds from Russell. Game 2 was just as tight. West poured in 41 points. Havlicek answered with 43 after dropping 37 in Game 1. Baylor scored 31, including the last 12, to close it out for L.A. No team had ever come back from a 2–0 deficit in the Finals. The Celtics looked broken. Russell had to switch it up, especially on West. The series shifted to Boston with both Don Nelson and Bill Hewitt bruised and bandaged from a brutal, collision-heavy Game 2.

Boston punched back. They took Game 3 (111–105) after Russell finally doubled West, who was exhausted and begged for more bench time. Boston built double-digit leads while West struggled. Tied at 78 entering the fourth, the Lakers collapsed. Havlicek had 34 despite getting hit in the eye. Then came Game 4—89–88, 50 total turnovers, and chaos. L.A. had the lead and the ball with seven seconds left when refs called Baylor out of bounds in a controversial moment. Havlicek, Siegfried, Howell, and Jones huddled up. Jones slipped past Chamberlain, lofted a wild shot that bounced off the front rim, the back rim, and dropped in. Even Kawhi’s famous 2019 bounce wasn’t this lucky. From 3–1 up to 2–2. The psychological gut-punch was huge.

West rebounded with 40 points in Game 5. It was now best-of-three. Back at the Forum, he dropped 39 and Chamberlain hauled in 31 boards. But disaster struck. With three minutes left and the game in hand, Em Bryant stole the ball from West, who chased him and tore his hamstring diving for it. Carried off the court, he would play the rest of the series on painkillers. L.A. led 3–2, one win from glory.

But Game 6 proved Boston wasn’t done. A 99–90 win at the Garden sent it to Game 7. Even after Boston shot just 6-of-27 in one stretch, L.A. couldn’t rally. They padded the score late, but it was over by halftime (55–39). West managed 26 points, but his injury slowed him down. Chamberlain was blasted for scoring just 8 points, swarmed by Russell and passive when it mattered (1-for-5 shooting). Don Nelson led Boston with 25. The stage was set. Game 7. Russell’s last ride, chasing one more ring.

The Lakers fall apart

Game 7 turned into a nightmare. Lakers owner Jack Kent Cooke hung thousands of balloons in the Forum rafters and printed flyers reading: “When—not if—the Lakers win the title, balloons will fall, USC’s band will play ‘Happy Days Are Here Again,’ and Chick Hearn will interview Baylor, West, and Chamberlain.” West was livid. Russell smiled and delivered his line: those balloons aren’t coming down.

With West still hurt and only Baylor beside him, Russell ordered his Celtics to run. Push the pace. Exhaust L.A.’s guards. It worked. Boston jumped ahead 24–12. L.A. clawed back to trail by just three at half, but a crushing 32–20 third quarter made it 91–76 Celtics with 12 minutes to play. Chamberlain picked up his fifth foul early in the fourth—he’d never fouled out—and had to ease up on defense. Down 103–94, he hurt his knee and sat for the first time all series. Mel Counts, the backup, helped spark a run to 102–103. Chamberlain told Van Breda Kolff he was ready to return. The coach waved him off. “We’re doing fine without you.” The decision became infamous.

Then Don Nelson hit the weirdest shot of his life—bouncing off the rim and in for 105–102. A few Laker turnovers sealed it. Final score: 108–106. The Celtics were champions again.

It was a nightmare realized for the Lakers. They’d reach three more Finals in the next four years—losing in seven to the Knicks in 1970, again in 1973 (4–1), but finally winning in 1972. That season brought 69 wins, a still-standing 33-game win streak, and a 4–1 Finals triumph. Coach Bill Sharman, later architect of Showtime, made Chamberlain the defensive anchor in a Celtics-style system—team ball, defense, fast breaks. Baylor wasn’t there—he got injured early in the year and retired just as the win streak began. He never won a ring, though the Lakers count him on that title team (the NBA doesn’t officially). That L.A. story was chaos, heartbreak, resilience, and the birth of a franchise that would become the most iconic in basketball. Their legacy was built not just on banners, but scars.

Jerry West—forever the face of defeat—averaged 37.9 points in the series and finished Game 7 with a 42-point triple-double (13 rebounds, 12 assists). He won the first-ever Finals MVP—the only time the award went to a player on the losing team, despite similar calls for LeBron in 2015. Baylor averaged 18 and 10.3, Egan scored 15.1, and Chamberlain posted 11.7 points and 25 rebounds. For Boston, Russell and Jones played every second of the series. Russell averaged 9.1 points and 21.1 rebounds. Jones added 18.7. Nelson came off the bench to score over 11 a game, and Havlicek led all Celtics with 28.3 points and 11+ boards.

The Lakers outscored the Celtics by three points across the series (744–741). All but one game was decided by single digits. Three came down to one shot.

And there’s more: It was the first time any team had come back from 2–0 down in the Finals. Only four others have done it since: the ’77 Blazers, ’06 Heat, ’16 Cavaliers, and ’21 Bucks. 1969 marked the end of the NBA’s second great age after Mikan, ushering in the chaotic, beautiful 1970s and a fierce TV battle with the ABA. Russell retired with 11 rings. Only Phil Jackson (13) and Auerbach (16, across roles) have surpassed that total. No player has come close. The closest not on those Celtics teams? Robert Horry—with 7 titles across three franchises. Unbelievable. But still no match for the myth of Russell and his Celtics.

It was the nightmare Jerry West never woke up from. The championship that never came. The celebration planned too early—and that never happened. One of the greatest Finals of all time. And one of the saddest chapters in Lakers history.