At 72, Scott Wedman Finally Breaks Silence on Celtics Drama – “Turns Out, Being the ‘Incredible Hulk’ Didn’t Guarantee a Welcome Party”

Scott Wedman’s basketball journey is a tale of grit, perseverance, and quiet excellence that spanned over a decade and culminated in NBA championships.

Born on July 29, 1952, in Harper, Kansas, Wedman’s early life was rooted in hard work on a 100-acre farm, where he learned discipline and resilience through daily chores and 4H activities.

His father, Tom Wedman, was a man of many trades — Boeing engineer, farm equipment maker, and car dealer — instilling a strong work ethic in Scott from a young age.

The family’s move to Denver, Colorado, marked a turning point.

At Mullen High School, Scott was initially an underdog — small, thin, and overlooked by coaches who doubted his potential.

But a late growth spurt during his senior year transformed him physically and on the court.

Following his older brother Mike, Scott attended the University of Colorado, where he blossomed into a star player.

Under coach Socks Walsith, Wedman became a three-time letterman, finishing fourth all-time in scoring and rebounding for the Buffaloes, earning multiple conference honors.

Drafted sixth overall by the Kansas City-Omaha Kings in 1974 — the highest pick ever from Colorado at the time — Wedman quickly earned the nickname “The Incredible Hulk” due to his intense weight training regimen.

His dedication to fitness was legendary, helping him recover swiftly from a serious car accident in 1979 when he flipped his Porsche.

Wedman’s peak years with the Kings saw him average 19 points per game and earn two All-Star selections, showcasing his scoring prowess and defensive skills.

However, financial troubles forced the Kings to part ways with Wedman after the 1980-81 season.

Signing a lucrative $1 million contract with the Cleveland Cavaliers, Wedman continued to produce solid numbers before being traded to the Boston Celtics in January 1983 — a move later hailed as a steal for Boston.

Joining the Celtics was a seismic shift for Wedman.

Once a primary scorer, he now found himself backing up Larry Bird, arguably the greatest player in NBA history.

The transition was difficult.

Wedman openly admits he struggled with reduced playing time and a diminished role, averaging just 13 minutes and five points per game initially.

The locker room atmosphere was far from welcoming.

His new teammates, protective of their minutes and roles, viewed Wedman as competition rather than an ally.

One anecdote perfectly captures the cultural clash: Wedman had to paint his white basketball shoes green for his Celtics debut because the team only allowed black or green footwear — a small but telling sign of the adjustment required.

Wedman’s strict vegetarian diet, instilled by his parents from childhood, became another source of teasing from teammates like Larry Bird and Kevin McHale during practices and meals.

What seemed like harmless ribbing masked a deeper truth: Wedman’s approach to nutrition and wellness was ahead of its time.

Many of the practices he embraced in the 1980s are now standard among professional athletes.

Despite these challenges, Wedman’s professionalism shone through.

When Casey Jones replaced Bill Fitch as Celtics coach in 1983-84, Wedman’s role stabilized.

Jones praised his attitude and gave him more consistent minutes, allowing Wedman to contribute meaningfully.

Wedman’s shooting was his greatest weapon.

Known for one of the purest jump shots of his era, his high release and upper-body strength made his shot nearly impossible to block.

This skill made him an invaluable “3-and-D” type player before that term even existed, stretching defenses and creating space for stars like Bird and McHale.

His most iconic moment came during Game 1 of the 1985 NBA Finals, dubbed the Memorial Day Massacre.

Wedman delivered a flawless shooting performance, going 11-for-11 from the field, including 4-for-4 from three-point range, scoring 26 points in just 23 minutes.

This remains one of the most efficient shooting displays in Finals history and epitomizes Wedman’s “stay ready” mentality.

Beyond that game, Wedman hit clutch shots throughout his Celtics tenure, including a crucial baseline jumper in overtime of Game 2 of the 1984 Finals.

When injuries sidelined McHale during the 1985-86 season, Wedman stepped up as a starter, averaging nearly 15 points per game and helping the Celtics secure another championship.

Yet, Wedman’s career was eventually curtailed by injuries, particularly a persistent heel issue that limited him to six games in his final season.

Though traded to the Seattle SuperSonics in 1987, he retired without playing for them, choosing health over prolonging his career.

Reflecting now at 72, Wedman dispels the myths and rumors that surrounded his Celtics years.

He confirms the initial locker room coldness and personal challenges but emphasizes the importance of his role in the team’s chemistry and success.

Basketball historian Bob Ryan once called him the Celtics’ “ultimate X-factor,” a player whose quiet contributions helped forge championship teams.

Wedman’s story is a reminder that in team sports, value isn’t always measured by headlines or statistics.

Sometimes, it’s the steady, unheralded presence—the player who embraces a supporting role with grace and determination—that makes all the difference.

Honored by multiple Hall of Fame inductions, including the Colorado Sports Hall of Fame and the Pac-12 Conference Hall of Honor, Wedman’s legacy is secure.

His candid revelations now shed light on the sacrifices and personal discipline behind those championship banners.

In the end, Scott Wedman’s journey from farm boy to NBA champion teaches us that true greatness often lies not in the spotlight, but in the strength to adapt, persevere, and contribute quietly yet profoundly to a team’s ultimate triumph.