Each year since 1975, the Professional Basketball Writers Association votes a player, coach or staff member to receive the J. Walter Kennedy Citizenship Award. Luol Deng of the Miami Heat won this year. This citizen of the world -- born in South Sudan, raised in Britain, educated at Duke -- is a role model for all aspiring young athletes.

But who was J. Walter Kennedy? Many National Basketball Association fans are too young to know.

He was the commissioner of the NBA for 12 years, and he was my boss for six of those years.

He took over a struggling NBA in 1963. There were nine teams, no network TV contract, no licensing agreement, and poor attendance in the league's weakest markets. 

When he retired in 1975, the league comprised 17 teams. He landed big contracts for that era, first with ABC, then CBS. There was a 200 percent increase in income, helped by a small but growing licensing deal, and attendance tripled during those years. 

He retired in 1975 and was succeeded as commissioner by Larry O'Brien. David Stern, who took over in 1984, was the architect of the league's phenomenal growth, as the NBA became a global powerhouse. Adam Silver replaced Stern last February and has already demonstrated his strength under fire.

Commissioner Kennedy had constant challenges, too, but the league was much smaller then.

When I walked into NBA headquarters in New York City on June 1, 1969, as director of public relations, we had only six full-time employees. It sounds unfathomable now. I now visit the huge headquarters on Fifth Avenue from time to time and marvel at how different it is. 

In Kennedy's first season, a group of players tried to strike and not play in the All-Star Game. They had no pension plan and demanded one. The owners had demonstrated at league meetings that they had no intention of complying. 

But the commissioner huddled with the player reps in the dressing room and promised, on his word, he would convince the owners to start a player pension plan. The players believed him, went out and played hard for the fans, and within months, a new pension plan was approved.

He was a trailblazer, but so much we take for granted didn't exist until he made it happen.

Members of the news media loved him. He virtually never turned down a request. He was out front and available. He traveled the league all during the year and talked to fans everywhere. He genuinely loved the sport. 

He was an attorney who was also a hard-core fan. He loved watching a well-played game. He was dedicated to building the sport.

In a typical year, there were seven or eight owners meetings. The franchise owners were called the Board of Governors. The most popular location for meetings was the O'Hare Inn in Chicago. Each owner could fly in that morning, participate in the meeting and fly home the same day.

During the meeting I would rent a suite, order refreshments and accompany the newspaper reporters, radio and TV people. We would play cards. We would tell stories. We would relax. Then, when the commissioner entered the room, the news conference would begin. He had great credibility with the press. They believed him when he summarized the events, often volatile, at the owners meetings. Then came questions and answers. When the reporters were satisfied, we'd walk to O'Hare Airport, adjacent to the hotel, and fly home to New York City.

During his regime, the league office grew to 23 employees. He presided over staff meetings firmly. No detail escaped him. He had an iron fist as well as a soft heart.

In 1973 I was honored when he and his wife of 33 years drove from his home in Stamford, Conn., to my hometown outside Boston -- about a 360-mile round trip. The occasion was my wedding. He made lots of friends at the reception. Our family and friends were delighted that he didn't act like a big shot. He seemed like just an average guy with his smiling wife, and both seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely.

During his regime, a rival league called the American Basketball Association became the biggest issue. They were competing for the best college players each spring, and the best NBA free agents in the offseason. It was a huge struggle because players usually signed with the highest bidder. Both leagues were overspending for some players. It was not until 1976, during the O'Brien era, that an agreement was reached.

Kennedy had retired to his home in Stamford and hoped for a peaceful life after years of constant turmoil. But he contracted cancer and passed away suddenly after his 65th birthday in 1977. He was elected to the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame in 1981.

He had been very involved in the Hall of Fame, serving as a trustee for 13 years and two years as president. I can now say, decades later, he was the best boss I ever had.

Nick Curran was the NBA's director of public relations from 1969-76. He later became a vice president and financial adviser for 28 years with Morgan Stanley, and its predecessor firm, Dean Witter Reynolds. He and his wife, 

Eileen, are retired and live in Santa Barbara.