NEW YORK -- How wretchedly ironic Dennis Johnson, 52, dropped dead from a heart attack on the day of the NBA's trading deadline.

How sorrowfully strange the relatively young Celtic great and Red Auerbach, the franchise's patriarch, would pass away within four months of each other.

Because, as we all know, acquiring D.J. was one of Red's all-time hijacks.

No. 1 was confiscating Bill Russell from the St. Louis Hawks for Easy Ed Macauley and the rights to Cliff Hagan on April 26, 1956.

Two was commandeering the No. 3 pick (Kevin McHale) and Robert Parish from the Golden State Warriors for the first choice, overall (Joe Barry Carroll) and Rickey Brown (No. 13) on June 9, 1980.

Three was shoplifting D.J., a first rounder and No. 3 pick from the Phoenix Suns for Rick Robey and two seconds on June 27, 1983.

"I totally agree with that, and Rick was one of my best friends," Larry Bird said from his car phone on the way home from the Pacers office. "I couldn't believe how lucky we were to get him. Those Sonic teams were real tough on us and he was a huge part of their success. They manhandled us. Rick felt the same way. He couldn't understand what the hell the Suns were thinking about, either.

"We heard what people (coach Lenny Wilkens branded him a cancer) said about him in Seattle. We heard there was friction in Phoenix. We heard he was difficult to get along with. Heard he was moody. So when we made the deal I wondered how he'd fit in with us. But I figured if he couldn't get along with K.C. Jones he must really be a problem."

Instead, Dennis Johnson turned out to be the best clutch player Bird ever teamed with.

He said it while they were winning two championships and competing to the bone for two others. And he accentuated it again yesterday during our 15-minute conversation.

"At the end of the game D.J. was money!" Larry declared.

"He used to tell me, "I may be a horrible shooter (not exactly; 45 percent over a 14-year career and nearly 80 percent from the free-throw line), and you may be a better shooter than me against Cleveland in February. But when it comes to games in May or June I'll outshoot you every time."'

D.J. repeatedly made a believer out of Bird in critical playoff games against the Pistons and Lakers, settling matters with a flawlessly released, superbly arcing, right-handed springer.

"I would be double-teamed and you know I was gonna crank it up, anyway," referring to a particularly enjoying moment in Game 4 of the 1984 finals against the Lakers," Bird said. "But I spotted D.J. on my left side and I knew the percentages were in his favor so I got him the ball. He never failed to deliver. He was always there when I needed him."

You can't find a more textbook illustration than Game 5 of '87 the Celtics-Pistons sumo series, tied 2-2, at Boston Garden.

Chuck Daly's squad had the contest (and, essentially, the round since Game 6 was in Detroit) wrapped up. All Isiah Thomas had to do was cleanly inbound the ball directly across the court from the Celtic bench.

Indelibly etched forever in league lore, and no doubt haunting Thomas to this day, is Bird's outrageous theft and instantaneous feed to a cutting D.J. for the winning basket. Boston won in seven.

"When I think about basketball the only thought I have is playing in the finals. He was there!" Bird said. Twice in four years with Seattle, D.J. was a major contributor to them reaching The Finals.

In successive seasons the Sonics lost to the Bullets, and then won it all in 1979; he crowed that glory by capturing MVP.

Johnson started on four Celtic teams that made the finals, helping their Hall of Fame frontline of Bird, McHale and Parish appropriate the organization's last two titles (1984 and 1986) of a league summit 16.

Dennis Johnson was not a prototype point guard yet the converted swingman managed to average between 4.1 and 7.8 assists for 10 seasons, as well as three-to-five rebounds.

He was not known for his scoring yet he averaged 14. 1 points (15,535) during the regular season and (no surprise) increased it to 17.3 in 180 playoff games.

Not bad for a second-round pick (29th) from Pepperdine and the same California high school (Compton's Dominguez) that produced Tayshaun Prince, Tyson Chandler and others.

However, it was D.J.'s defense that distinguished his career and distanced himself from the herd. The five-time All-Star was voted to the NBA's All-Defensive Team six times.

"Ask Magic how hard he was to go up against," Bird underlined. "Ask any of those high scoring guards during those days."

Did D.J. ever guard you? I wondered.

"He knew better!" Bird harrumphed, chuckling long and loud. "He was too little to handle me. He could guard everyone else. Two D.J.s couldn't guard me!

I understand that Dennis had a remarkable life, I told Bird. I understand he accomplished more in his career than 95 percent of those who ever picked up a basketball in all seriousness.

Yet I'm overwhelmed with sadness that he died unfulfilled on two accounts.

It's disturbing he never got the chance to show what he could do as an NBA head coach (except for an 8-16 stretch as Clipper interim in 2003; he was currently in charge of the NBA Developmental League Austin Toros).

And, if I found it unimaginable in print less than a week ago that he wasn't among the 15 final nominees for the Hall of Fame, picture what poison is rushing today through my veins.

"I don't know why D.J. is not in," Bird said. "Maybe it's because me, McHale and Parish are in. Obviously, those people don't appreciate how much he meant to our achievements. But there's no doubt he deserves it.

"I agree, it's terribly sad he didn't get to live his dream. After he retired he told me, 'I'm a basketball person and I want to be a basketball coach.'

"He told me he was prepared to pursue that goal with his whole mind, heart and soul.

"Here's a guy who always finished the last play when he only had to depend on himself. But in these two cases he needed a hand or a push and he never got the help."