For many old-school NBA fans, today’s landscape can feel a bit too friendly. Watching players openly admire and embrace one another, even as opponents, stands in stark contrast to the cutthroat rivalries of the 1980s and ’90s, when competition often spilled beyond the hardwood and turned personal.

And that generational divide in mentality was perfectly captured in Cedric Maxwell‘s recent admission.

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Maxwell’s Boston Celtics and Rick Mahorn‘s Washington Bullets met several times in the playoffs during the early ’80s. With those matchups being intense and physical, the former Finals MVP developed such a strong hatred for “Ricky” that he unapologetically admitted to having no interest in developing a relationship with him off the court.

“I don’t know about that d— friends, though. We didn’t have that back in the day,” Maxwell said. “One side, I don’t want to see your big a—, I don’t want to see you no more. ‘Yo, Rick Mahorn having a party? Man, F–k Rick Mahorn!’ Hell no!”

Maxwell and Mahorn were involved in heated matchups

The first notable postseason meeting came between them in the 1982 Eastern Conference semifinals, where Boston dispatched Washington in five games – a gentleman sweep. Ced played a key role, averaging 17.4 points and 8.2 rebounds across the series, while Mahorn put up 9.8 points and 8.8 rebounds per game.

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Two years later, they met again. This time in the first round. While Maxwell’s scoring dipped to 8.0 points per game, Mahorn contributed 9.5 points, 10.8 rebounds and 1.5 steals per game. But the result stayed the same – the Celtics advanced once more.

Despite the statistical back-and-forth, what stood out was the tone of those matchups. Games were bruising, physical and emotionally charged, with every possession carrying weight. Thus, for Maxwell, that kind of environment naturally bred resentment.

Put simply, for Ced to realize that there were players who wanted to end the Celtics’ supremacy in the Eastern Conference, he had no interest in entertaining them, at least till his playing days were over.

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Related: Grant Williams explains how taxes influenced his decision to leave Boston: “$54 million in Dallas is really like $58 million in Boston and $63 million in L.A.”

Mahorn held different beliefs

Rick, however, saw things differently. Despite having a reputation as one of that era’s most imposing enforcers, he didn’t feel the need for the animosity to be extended beyond the court.

Moreover, his perspective was rooted in respect – understanding the grind it took for every player to reach the NBA level. So, once the game lights were off, he had no issues extending a friendly hand to his opponents.

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“We become friends, not enemies, because we played the game. It’s not playing the game – a pick-up game, I don’t like you – you don’t like me,” Mahorn said. “But then after the game, we’re friends. It is what it is.”

Safe to say that this contrast highlights an important nuance often lost in nostalgia. While the era is remembered for its fierce rivalries and “bad blood,” not every player carried that intensity into life beyond the hardwood.

Ced represented the extreme edge of competitiveness, where rivalries became deeply personal. Mahorn, on the other hand, embodied a more balanced approach, something that’s more common in today’s era of basketball.

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Related: Rick Mahorn on the moment Isiah Thomas earned his respect: “I hit his a–”

This story was originally published by Basketball Network on May 12, 2026, where it first appeared in the Off The Court section. Add Basketball Network as a Preferred Source by clicking here.