When you hear the name Phil Jackson, your brain probably goes straight to a guy in a suit with 11 rings, managing the massive egos of Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant. The "Zen Master" sitting on a high-backed chair. But before he was the most successful coach in the history of the game, he was a gangly, long-armed irritant on the court. Honestly, it's kinda wild how many modern fans forget that Phil Jackson was a legit NBA player for over a decade. He wasn't just some guy on the bench, either. He was a vital, elbows-flying part of the most beloved era in New York Knicks history.
He was 6'8". He had arms that seemed to go on for miles. Teammates called him "Bones" or "The Mop" because he was constantly diving on the floor for loose balls. Basically, if you were an opposing player in the late 60s or 70s, you probably hated seeing him check into the game. He didn't play pretty basketball. It was jagged. It was physical.
The Player Nobody Talks About: Phil Jackson’s New York Roots
Most people think of Phil's playing days as a footnote. That's a mistake. He was drafted by the Knicks in 1967 out of the University of North Dakota—not exactly a basketball powerhouse back then. But he was an All-American there, averaging nearly 20 points and 13 rebounds. When he got to the NBA, he had to reinvent himself. He wasn't going to be the primary scorer on a team that had Walt "Clyde" Frazier or Earl Monroe.
He became a specialist.
His game was built on defense and high-level basketball IQ. He played for Red Holzman, a legendary coach who preached "hit the open man" and relentless team defense. This is where the seeds for the Triangle Offense were actually planted. Jackson wasn't just playing; he was absorbing a philosophy. He was a key reserve on the 1973 championship team, coming off the bench to disrupt the rhythm of opposing stars with those "ever-moving hands" that sportswriters used to rave about.
The 1970 Ring and the Injury that Changed Everything
Here’s a bit of trivia that trips people up: Phil Jackson has two rings as a player, but he didn't actually play a single minute during the 1969-70 championship season. He had a brutal back injury that required spinal fusion surgery.
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He spent that entire season on the sidelines.
Instead of just moping, he became a sort of unofficial scout and assistant for Holzman. He would sit in the stands or on the bench, taking notes and learning how to see the game from a 30,000-foot view. He even wrote a book called Take It All about that season, which was basically a photo diary. Most guys would’ve just cashed the checks. Phil used the time to figure out why some teams click and others don't. When he finally got back on the court for the 1970-71 season, he wasn't as mobile, but he was smarter.
What Kind of Player Was He, Really?
If you look at his career averages—6.7 points and 4.3 rebounds—you might think "journeyman." But stats in the 70s didn't capture the "Action Jackson" effect.
- The Nickname: He was "Action Jackson" because he was a spark plug. He’d come in, commit three fouls in four minutes, grab two offensive boards, and completely change the energy of the Madison Square Garden crowd.
- The Hustle: He led the league in personal fouls in 1974-75 with 330. Think about that. He wasn't a starter most of his career, yet he was hacking people so frequently that he led the entire NBA.
- The Shot: He had this weird, left-handed hook shot that looked broken but somehow went in. It wasn't Kareem’s skyhook. It was more of a "get it off before I get blocked" kind of move.
By the time he was traded to the New Jersey Nets in 1978, he was already transitioning into coaching. He was a player-assistant for the Nets, which is a role you almost never see today. He was literally coaching the guys he was playing with. He retired in 1980, finishing a 12-year career that most people would kill for, even if the coaching career that followed eventually overshadowed it.
Why His Playing Days Matter for the "Zen Master" Persona
You can't understand Phil the coach without Phil the player. He wasn't a superstar. He was a role player who had to deal with injuries, coaching changes, and the reality of being a "system guy." When he later coached MJ or Shaq, he knew exactly how to talk to the 10th man on the bench because he was that guy. He understood that a championship isn't just about the leading scorer; it’s about the guy who dives for the ball and isn't afraid to use his six fouls. He learned the value of "we-over-me" from Red Holzman, and he carried that through every single title he won in Chicago and LA.
Actionable Insights from Phil's Career
If you’re looking to apply the "Player Phil" mindset to your own life or sports game, here’s how he did it:
- Find your "Mop" factor. If you aren't the best "scorer" in your office or on your team, find the things nobody else wants to do. Jackson made himself indispensable by doing the dirty work.
- Observe when you’re sidelined. Phil’s year off with the back injury was arguably the most important year of his career. He learned the "why" behind the "how." If you're currently in a period of "waiting" or "injury," use it to study the industry or the game.
- Lean into your weirdness. Jackson was an "intellectual" who lived in a loft and rode a motorcycle when most NBA players were doing the traditional disco-era thing. He didn't fit the mold, and that individual perspective eventually became his greatest strength as a leader.
To really see what he was like, look up grainy footage of the 1973 NBA Finals. Watch number 18. He’s the one with the shaggy hair and the long limbs, probably getting tangled up with a Wilt Chamberlain or a Jerry West. He wasn't the star, but he was the glue. And sometimes, the glue is what actually holds the trophy together.
Check out some of the old Knicks archives or his book Eleven Rings to get the full picture of how those early days in New York shaped the dynasties that came later.