Women A Way Of Life In NBA -- Like Other Players, `Magic' Found Them Readily Available

In this excerpt from Magic Johnson's autobiography, "My Life," he discusses the NBA "road culture" that he believes led to his being infected with the AIDS virus. --------------------------------

I'm not writing about the women in my life in order to brag; I'm no Wilt Chamberlain. But I have to acknowledge that the virus in my body, which came from a casual encounter, has created tremendous curiosity about the role sex has played in my life. So I owe it to the reader to be candid.

Let me deal with the gay issue first, because people keep asking about it. I can understand the doubts of those who still wonder if I'm gay. For one thing, only a small percentage of Americans who have HIV or AIDS are men who got the virus from having unprotected sex with women. For another, in spite of everything I've said, a lot of people - and especially athletes - still want to believe that I got the virus through a homosexual encounter. Because if I did, that would let them off the hook. If they, too, have been promiscuous with the opposite sex, especially if it happened with any of the same women that I was with, it would be a big relief to know that Magic Johnson contracted HIV because he was gay or bisexual.

But I'm not. And it didn't happen that way. And it didn't happen through sharing a needle, because I've never done drugs.

People make all kinds of choices in their lives. Some drink. Some smoke. Some eat too much. That wasn't me. My pleasure was being with women.

All of this happened during my long, on-again, off-again relationship with Cookie. Some people can't understand how I could love one woman and be with others. But there was a part of me that was always with Cookie. Maybe that was Earvin, and the other part of me was Magic.

Eventually, I wised up and married Cookie. Until then, women were a big part of my life. After Norm Nixon was traded, I became the team leader in that department. I was discreet, and I kept it quiet. My teammates knew, of course. But what I did, most of them were doing, too. Nobody ever said the Lakes were boy scouts.

Just about every time the bus brought us back to our hotel after a game, there would be 40 or 50 women waiting in the lobby to meet us. Most of them were beautiful, and a few were just unbelievable.

Some were secretaries. Some were lawyers. Quite a few were actresses or models. Others were teachers, editors, accountants or entrepreneurs. There were bimbos, too, but not that many. Most of these women were college-educated professionals. Some were black, some white, Hispanic or Asian. Some of these women were very open about what they were doing, and some were more discreet. A few would even brag about all the players they had slept with. For others, all this was part of a very secret life.

Usually, the women waiting for us in hotel lobbies would pretend to be interested in autographs. But you might sign that autograph and write down your room number beside your signature. Or you might write your name and whisper, "Call me," or "See you in an hour."

Sometimes I wouldn't even pick up the phone. Or I might ask the operator to hold all calls. But women kept calling, and some of them got through.

"Hello, Magic. This is Cheryl. Did you get my message?"

"But I don't know you."

"That's all right. I'll be at the game tonight, Section 42. I'll be wearing a black sweater."

This sort of thing happened constantly - especially in the larger cities. New York, Atlanta, Chicago and Houston were hot towns. In the smaller cities and most of the South, the women were generally less aggressive.

Every large city had certain restaurants and night spots where the players would hang out. Most guys didn't enjoy staying in a small hotel room, especially after a game, so often a whole bunch of us would go out dancing.

We also received a huge amount of fan mail. Every day, hundreds of perfumed letters arrived at the Forum. Some of the mail got pretty explicit, and it wasn't just letters, either. Others sent their underwear. There was nothing subtle about it.

I could never understand how a player could sleep with a woman on the day of a game. Some guys did, but I couldn't imagine doing that. I might spend the afternoon with a woman, but I would never have sex until the game was over. With most guys, basketball came first.

Every person is different, of course. Some of the married players didn't fool around at all. Or if they did, they were so discreet that nobody knew about it. There were also a few players in the league who abstained for religious reasons.

Some guys would expect any woman they slept with to spend the night. Some women were happy to. Others wouldn't even consider it. I myself never spent the night with a woman. It just didn't feel right. Often, after we slept together, she'd want to stay. That's why I always explained in advance that I preferred to sleep alone, and that no matter what happened between us, I would be asking her to leave when it was over. That way it was her choice.

I also liked women who could carry on a conversation. That's because being with a woman on the road is not just about sex. It's also about conversation and relaxing, and not being lonely.

But most women talked easily. And if they didn't talk much, they'd ask questions. How does it feel to be famous? What's Kareem really like? Tell me about Arsenio.

Sometimes the questions were very explicit. Not about sex, but money. How much was I being paid? How much was so-and-so making? I sometimes felt that it wasn't so much me, but my paycheck that got them excited. They just couldn't resist the idea of going to bed with a guy who was making millions of dollars.

What it boiled down to was that many of these women were doing to men exactly what men have been doing to women all these years. They were treating us like sex objects. What they wanted was conquest. And for some of them, most of the thrill was in the chase.

For others, the thrill was in fulfilling a particular fantasy. On the roof of a hotel. On a beach. In an airplane. One woman wanted to try it in a hotel elevator.

In the age of AIDS, unprotected sex is reckless. I know that now, of course. But the truth is, I knew it then, too. I just didn't pay attention. I couldn't believe that anything like this could happen to me.

From the book "My Life" by Earvin "Magic" Johnson with William Novak. Copyright (c) 1992, by Earvin "Magic" Johnson. Reprinted by permission of the publisher, Random House, Inc. Dist. by Los Angeles Times Syndicate.