When they were teammates Attles and Chamberlain were close friends and they still see each other if circumstances permit. They are an incongruous pair, since Chamberlain has the reputation of being a playboy while Attles does not drink, smoke or use angry words and likes nothing better than to stay home and eat ice cream with the family.
One of the stories about Attles involves Chamberlain's 100-point game. That night in Hershey, Pa. Attles had perhaps his biggest thrill, too, hitting on all of his eight field-goal attempts and making his lone free-throw try. It was a perfect game—and the story goes that he was peeved that no one noticed. That, says Attles, is pure embellishment. He was not upset at being overshadowed. In fact, he says, only two weeks before Wilt's accomplishment he had predicted to a newspaper friend that some day Chamberlain would score 100.
It was Chamberlain who once offered testimony to Attles' proficiency with the bolo punch. During his fight with Bob Ferry in Madison Square Garden—the one in which his mother did or did not intervene—Attles spun Ferry to the floor and jumped on top of him. Chamberlain, meanwhile, was wading through the rest of the players, scaling them left and right like so many Frisbees. He reached Attles, pulled him from the senseless Ferry and carried him off under his arm, like a loaf of bread. Later the writers wanted to know if Chamberlain was worried for his buddy's safety. "Worried?" sputtered Wilt, his face equal parts disgust and incredulity. "I had to get to my boy before he killed Ferry."