Red Auerbach was a dictator and a disciplinarian. He was sly, brash, arrogant and volatile. Throw in vulgar and tough. He also was demanding but fair.

His words were calculated but often infuriating.

Consider Philadelphia in April, 1968.

The city streets are lined with police. Everywhere, there are police. Emotions are high the day after Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated.

The Boston Celtics, however, are turning their emotions to basketball. They are set to face the Philadelphia 76ers in Game Seven of their Eastern Conference playoff series.

The Celtics eliminate the 76ers on that April evening in a thriller. They rally from a 3-games-to-1 deficit in the best-of-seven series by winning three straight games, the first time in NBA history that a team had achieved that feat.

The game is tense, the triumph is stunning. For the 76ers, the defeat is coated with the gloom and anger of a city already in mourning.

And all Auerbach, who then was the Celtics' general manager and president, had to say was: "Let's get out of this rotten city."

The most successful coach in the NBA, he directed his teams to nine championships (eight in a row), then masterminded seven more from his perch in the front office.

Although he was crusty, he had a soft side, too.

"I've seen him laugh and I've seen him cry," John Havlicek, one of Auerbach's great players, said in the foreword of Red Auerbach, An Autobiography. "I've seen him show frustration, rage and compassion."

Havlicek continued: "You meet, and his first move is to put you on the defensive. Most of the time he succeeds. This is a definite Auerbach trait. Once his control is established, his tenacity of purpose takes over and that control will be maintained until he draws his last breath."

That moment came Saturday when Auerbach died at 89 of a heart attack.

The memorable scene and subsequent victory in Philadelphia showed one of the many sides of Arnold "Red" Auerbach and what made him tick.

During his coaching days, there was no democracy. He was a dictator, and discipline ruled. There was some compassion, though only moderate.

Clyde Lovellette, acquired from the St. Louis Hawks as Bill Russell's backup center, once tried to steal a sip of water during a tortuous preseason drill. Auerbach yelled at the top of his lungs: "Clyde, no water. Damn it, knock it off!"

Lovellette timidly replied: "Red, I was just rinsing my mouth."

Auerbach turned from his players, looked the other way at a few of the fans, and smiled.

When Auerbach coached, no one talked in the huddle. If someone had a suggestion, it had to wait. He was in control. But that wasn't to suggest Boston players were pawns.

"We could talk to Red," Frank Ramsey, Auerbach's first fabled sixth man, said in Auerbach's autobiography. "He'd listen to our suggestions. He wanted his players to contribute their ideas. He encouraged that. But, once he started to talk, that was it. He was the boss and he had absolute power to do whatever he wanted to do with us. And the only response he expected was obedience."

Gene Guarilia, a Celtic forward who played at Auerbach's alma mater, George Washington University, once dribbled a ball when Auerbach was addressing his team.

"Fifty laps, Guarilia!" Auerbach screeched.

There was no balking. No pleading his case. Total obedience.

Auerbach was brash.

He was once asked if he had decided to drop No. 1 draft pick Sam Jones instead of Dick Hemric but later opted to release Hemric because the former Wake Forest veteran forward gained what seemed like 50 pounds overnight.

"Where do you invent stories like that?" Auerbach snapped back at a writer. "That's rubbish!"

Auerbach, who more than once was at odds with eccentric owner John Y. Brown, once shot back to his boss:

"You'd trade the Kentucky Derby for the Indy 500."

That quip came after Auerbach learned Brown had acquired Bob McAdoo for the Celtics' three No. 1 draft picks.

Brown and Auerbach weren't exactly drinking buddies. Auerbach was so disappointed the way the Celtics were being mismanaged he decided to join the Knicks as their general manager.

Before Auerbach headed for New York to solidify the deal, a cab driver taking him to Logan Airport, pleaded: "Red, don't go. Boston loves you."

The city did and Auerbach knew it. He turned down the Knicks and outlasted Brown. Auerbach was a blue chip when it came to survival.

As a coach, he was volatile and physical.

He once bloodied the lip of Hawks' owner Ben Kerner when he thought Kerner had altered the height of the rims for a playoff game.

Auerbach was fined $300 for that incident. And, yes, the rims were the regulation 10 feet.

No one could work referees like Auerbach. He'd badger, berate and insult them. He made it an art form.

He had his own philosophy. A philosophy that cost him $17,000 in fines during his career.

"I made it my business to know all I could about every referee, to study him, to analyze his personality, to anticipate the way he might call a game," Auerbach said in his autobiography. "Referees became a big part of my pregame talks.

"You had to understand these people. Mendy Rudolph had a great deal of ego. His hair was always neat and things like that. He ran around like he was king. Sid Borgia was just plain tough. He was always on top of the game and he had supreme confidence in himself.

"Most of your referees were inferior athletes. So they've got frustrations. Give them a whistle and a little authority and they think they're big shots. I was smart enough to know it. Now and then you get someone like a Cal Hubbard or a Hank Soar, but officials are just frustrated jocks. I didn't want them taking their frustrations out on me or my ball club."

Russell, undoubtedly Auerbach's best player, was impressed with the way his coach went to bat for him against referees in his third game.

"There was a goaltending call against me and Red came storming out," Russell said in Auerbach's autobiography. "He was arguing like mad. That's when I realized here was a guy who was 100 percent for me and the rest of his team. You can't help liking a coach like that."

Russell wasn't so lavish in his praise when he once asked Auerbach, who served as general manager and coach simultaneously, about a particular situation.

Auerbach asked: "Are you addressing the coach or the general manager?"

"The general manager," Russell said.

"Then that'll cost you," Auerbach growled, trying to hold back a smile. "You went over the coach's head."

Jim Loscutoff, Auerbach's "policeman" during the early days of the dynasty, never feared anyone or anything. Except Auerbach.

"I'd be at a dinner or some function and Red would be there and I'd quickly put out my cigarette," Loscutoff said. "I was still afraid the coach would reprimand me. That's the kind of respect his players have for him. You still saw him as an authority figure."

Willie Naulls, who came to the Celtics from San Francico for a draft choice after seven years in the NBA, couldn't believe the kind of training camp Auerbach conducted.

"My first camp under Red was tougher than my first seven put together," Naulls said. "I fainted after 10 minutes into my first workout. If you weren't in condition, you'd never survive with him."

Respected by his players and loved by Boston fans, Auerbach drew respect from opponents as a coach but opinions about his style bordered on sheer hatred.

Consider this remark from Auerbach's autobiography:

"I admired his ability to coach," said Fred Schaus, the L.A. Lakers coach whom Auerbach defeated four times in the championship finals. "He always kept his team hustling and hungry. But I didn't like the man. I didn't like the way he rubbed salt in our wounds. Red Auerbach will never be known as a gracious winner."

Auerbach, taunting opponents with his lighted cigar signifying victory, put a high priority on winning and an even higher priority on the price it took to get to the victory circle.

"Show me a good loser and I'll show you a loser," was Auerbach's motto.

He may have been controversial but when it came to basketball technique and strategy, Auerbach was regarded by friend and foe as the most knowledgeable and successful coach at the professional level.

"Dress British and think Yiddish," he said once, referring to his Jewish background, when asked about his cunning personnel moves in trades and the draft.

Auerbach was a great ambassador for basketball. He gave clinics at high schools in the greater Boston area with his players when the sport was in its infancy and fighting hockey for headlines. He and all-star players traveled on goodwill tours to Europe and the Far East to teach basketball for the State Department.

There were some quality deeds that never hit print. Like working diligently behind the scenes to get countless deprived kids into college regardless of their ability on a basketball court. That was not an infrequent happening in Washington, D.C., his hometown.

But what Auerbach cherished dearly was the way his former players kept in contact with their former coach. He details that in his autobiography.

"My phone's always ringing," he said. "Sometimes they just want to say hello, or tell me some news about their families, or careers, and sometimes they want advice.

"It gives me a good feeling inside to know that they still value my opinions, and that I apparently had a good influence on their lives. Call it respect if you want to, or call it friendship. In my mind, it's just their way of letting me know they're still my guys, and I hope they always feel that way. That relationship doesn't stop the day they stop playing for me. As Bill Russell says, it goes on until one of us dies."

Saturday, one of them died.

He was the legendary Celtics coach who prophetically said in his autobiography:

"I see pride, integrity and dedication slipping away in sports. Where are they going? And why? These are values that should last forever. How are we losing them?"

Auerbach's death ends an era. An era that put a priority on loyalty, teamwork and devotion to a task. All that old-fashioned jazz.

He left a rich legacy.

Red Auerbach's Boston Celtics weren't just a team. They were a way of life.

khamwey@projo.com / (401) 277-7340