When the Boston Celtics traded for Xavier Tillman, he was immediately tossed in with the early warm-up crew. He got shots up alongside Oshae Brissett and Svi Mykhailiuk, and player development coach Jermaine Bucknor was there to help him prepare.
Within a week of his arrival, the two men were already getting competitive. Tillman’s versatile defensive skillset was tested by Bucknor. The 40-year-old coach played pro ball in Germany less than five years ago. But Tillman got the best of him.
On one of the final possessions of a workout, Tillman’s defense was so sturdy that Bucknor lost his balance and fell onto the floor. Needless to say, Tillman was pleased.
Now, they are always competing. Even if Bucknor’s only job is to contest Tillman’s threes as he’s warming up, both guys want to win.
“I’m looking to lock him up every single time,” Tillman said. “We just started the shooting game. He thought he could shoot better than me just because I set a lot of screens. I can hoop, so. You know what I’m sayin’? Every time I get to compete against him, I’m trying to beat him for sure.”
Tillman’s competitive nature is matched by Bucknor whenever they’re on the floor together. That’s just who Bucknor is. He even managed to win a three-point shootout against Paul Pierce, Eddie House, Amile Jefferson, and others during the Celtics’ preseason camp.
Paul Pierce, Sam Cassell, Eddie House, Amille Jefferson, and some #Celtics coaches are in a shooting competition at practice right now.
There is LOTS of shit talk and Jayson Tatum is dying of laughter. pic.twitter.com/1ldhbGqjtN
— Jack Simone (@JackSimoneNBA) October 5, 2023
And when Lamar Stevens was in town, a pseudo-wrestling match broke out.
Bucknor’s competitiveness stems from a lengthy, legendary career in Germany.
It’s a tale that includes meetings with the mayor, a fan-led campaign to bring him back to the team he made his own, and his number on the court in Trier.
Born in Edmonton, Canada, Bucknor’s high-level basketball career began at the University of Richmond. He was college teammates with Celtics assistant coach Tony Dobbins, but couldn’t parlay his time there into an NBA opportunity. So, he turned to the international stage.
After floating around the German BBL, Argentinian Liga A, and the now-defunct International Basketball League, Bucknor found himself playing for the Gladiators Treves (also known as Römerstrom Gladiators Trier).
But the overseas hoop scene back then wasn’t what it is now. There simply weren’t the same opportunities for personal relationships.
To play on the international stage in the early 2010s meant little to no contact with family back home. There was no FaceTime. Skype was just barely starting to come alive, and the connectivity that people take for granted today wasn’t available.
“Those guys that came over [in the] early ages of the overseas basketball, it’s a different life, and you truly have to love basketball. And you can tell that man loves basketball,” said Dan Monsteroso, Bucknor’s teammate in Trier. “It’s what he breathes. It’s what he knows.”
Bucknor’s team-hopping came to an end in Trier. He had found a basketball home, embedding himself in the team, the city, and the culture—a staple within the organization.
“Buck [is] the kind of guy that built a relationship with each and everyone on the team because then he knew, if things go down south, we can still rely on each other, and we have each other’s back,” said Simon Schmitz, another Trier teammate of Bucknor.
Three years passed, and Bucknor went from role player to one of Trier’s top guys off the bench. From the 2012-13 season to the 2014-15 season, his points per game increased by three, his minutes went up by nine per game, and his three-point numbers skyrocketed.
When he first arrived, Bucknor was shooting 2.4 threes per game at a 33.8% clip. Two seasons later, he shot 45.9% on 3.7 attempts.
But when his third year with the team came to a close, Trier got relegated. They went from League 1 in Germany to League 2, meaning Bucknor’s exit was inevitable.
“It was crystal clear that Buck [was going to] leave because there was no money to have him, and also, he was too good for the second league and all that stuff,” said Vincenzo Sarnelli, a Trier super fan turned team media coordinator. “But he was always a fan favorite in Trier.”
Fans were sad to see him go, but had he stayed, his icon status would have never been fulfilled.
Bucknor left Trier for Belgium club Belfius Mons-Hainaut. After just one season there, he moved to Argentina, joining Ciclista Olimpico.
But back in Trier, the team was struggling. “The guy at the power forward position wasn’t quite doing well,” said Sarnelli. “And it was clear that the coach wanted to change something [at] the position.”
So, with Trier in need of a four and Bucknor’s time in Argentina not going according to plan, Sarnelli and his friends took matters into their own hands.
“Earlier when podcasts weren’t cool, we had a podcast about what’s going in Trier and Trier basketball,” Sarnelli recalled. “And it was like, ‘Yeah, who could be a good substitute for this guy, and who could be someone?’ And we were always talking about, ‘Damn, Buck needs to come back.’ And we were looking. Where’s he playing? And he was playing in Argentina, and it wasn’t going very well there.”
Before long, their idea turned into action.
“And the funny thing was, one of my friends, he’s a journalist, and he had contacts to the wife of Jemaine,” Sarnelli said. “He had made a whole story of them, and that’s why they stayed in contact somehow. And he was just typing in his Facebook Messenger, ‘Trier will fire his power forward. You should call the coach, and you should call the office.’ And that’s what they did.
“And it was like, in between 24 hours, it was a nice alley-oop pass, and the club just dunked it in.”
Just like that, Bucknor was back in Trier, the city he adopted and adopted him for three years, the city that grew to idolize him. But from then on, the love the two sides had for each other grew into an overwhelming adoration.
Upon his return to Trier, banners hung in the arena with the words “Buck is Back” on them. Kids lined up to say hello, fans eagerly welcomed him with open arms, and the entire city showed him love.
“When he came back, that’s actually also when I realized how much of a legend status he already had before he came back,” Schmitz said.
His first game back was a spectacle for the entire city.
“It was, I think, one of the craziest games, when he got back, that I ever saw,” said Sarnelli. “Because everybody in the city [was] hooked. Even the people who didn’t like basketball at all. Because Buck was someone who was known in all of the city. Everybody knows this guy with the big smile.”
Bucknor was an essential piece of the Trier organization for the next four years. And on the court, he carried an unmatched competitive fire.
“It’s life or death with him,” Monteroso said of Bucknor’s competitiveness. “And that’s something that — it’s awesome to be around because I’m very similar in the same way. And all those guys at that level have to be that way, or they wouldn’t be at that level in the NBA. And that’s why he probably gels with those guys so easily, just because of how much he loves to compete. It’s life or death for him.”
The life-or-death ethos followed Bucknor throughout his basketball career.
“Buck’s the type of guy that you [want to] have in your foxhole. He wouldn’t back down from anybody,” said former NBA player Joel Anthony, who played with Bucknor on the Canadian national Team. “And he would definitely let them know just by his presence that he wasn’t going to [go] anywhere. He would challenge anyone, and he had that confidence in himself and in his game.”
Bucknor was willing to leave his body on the hardwood, and he even took things a step further if needed.
“[Trier] was playing against, I think it was, I’m not sure what the team was, but [David] Kramer was playing on it,” Sarnelli remembered. “Kramer, he’s now world champion with the national team. And so, he [got] a little bit better, but it was his rookie season when I remember correctly. And he was like trying to destroy our team.
“He was hitting threes. He was dunking. And there was one story then: He was always flopping. He was always flopping. And Buck, it [got] so on his nerves that this guy was always flopping.”
As Kramer’s cockiness spewed out onto the court, Bucknor did his job in the best way he knew how.
“I mean, [Kramer] was like 18, 19 years old and was destroying our team,” said Sarnelli. “And then Buck fouled him very hard, stepping over him, and I was sitting right next to the bench, and I heard what he was saying. He was like trash-talking to him. He was saying, ‘That’s a grown-up sport, white boy.’”
And even after all of that, his true personality shined through.
“And maybe that describes what Buck is doing. Because in the end, after the game, they hugged each other, and it was, they talked a lot to each other. And Buck was saying in an interview, ‘This guy will get bigger, and he will win titles someday.’”
Those were the plays Bucknor was known for. He was the guy willing to do anything to win. He was the guy his teammates looked to in the middle of a storm. He brought intensity in hopes of creating a team-wide sense of calm. And it all circles back to who he is as a person, not as a basketball player.
“I have a lot of stories of in-game situations where things go down south, and then he makes big threes [or] he makes a dirty play on defense just to get everybody hyped again and ready to compete,” Schmitz said. “But these are basketball things, right? But it’s more important what kind of person he was.”
With a celebrated return and an already-lengthy Trier career behind him, Bucknor’s status as a fan favorite was elevated to that of a local legend.
His passionate on-court playstyle and hustle were outmatched by an off-the-court warmth that endeared him to an entire city.
“There were situations I remember when he was talking to people, like politicians of the city—the mayor of the city, for example—and he was like talking about the game and talking about basketball, and everybody was in love with him, and with the way he talked,” Sarnelli shared. “And even if they don’t understand English at all, they were like, ‘This guy, I remember him.’
“And it’s like, when Buck comes to town, everybody remembers him. It doesn’t matter how many days he has [been gone]. Everybody knows who he is.”
By the end of 2021, age and injury caught up to Bucknor. Three-and-a-half full seasons of basketball were halted by knee and hip issues. But he couldn’t shake the urge to be around the sport. So, he coached.
Bucknor joined the Trier coaching staff as an assistant, which only boosted his desire to compete. “If anything, it went up a notch,” Monteroso said of Bucknor’s competitive fire.
Thanks to some unlikely circumstances, Monteroso got the chance to hoop with Bucknor as teammates, play under him as an assistant, and coach alongside him on the bench.
In their final season in Trier in 2022-23, the head coach got fired, and Bucknor took over. Simultaneously, Monteroso was dealing with a hernia and couldn’t play. So, the two friends joined forces. “I was like, ‘Buck, you know I want to coach at a high level, too. Can I help?’ And he was like, ‘Can you help? I need you to help.’”
At every turn, Bucknor acted with a blend of intensity and compassion—a balance he’s utilized for his entire career.
“When I first got over to Team Canada, I was extremely quiet,” Anthony recalled. “And Buck would be one of the guys I would always talk to. But even after, he’d reach out. We’d also always make sure to be [in] contact even after the fact.”
It’s why he’s so beloved by everyone who knows him.
“He’s a guy that socially knows how to talk to people. Knows how to get to people,” said Anthony. “He’s extremely personable. And that’s why he’s someone that other guys definitely regard highly. Because of the relationship.
“It’s not just because of what he was doing on the court for us. It was because of who he was as an individual. He was someone that you wanted to be around.”
But Bucknor’s graciousness extended far beyond normal expectations.
By the end of his time in Trier, he was immortalized by the organization. They retired his number and gave him a huge ceremony. Yet in his biggest moment, a day that was designed to honor him, Bucknor couldn’t pass up the opportunity to share it with his teammate.
“I played professionally for 13 years and obviously spent the last four years with Buck being the captain in Trier and so on,” said Simon Schmitz. “And then my last season, I got hurt, and Corona started, and the season was over. That was the finish of my career. So, I never had the time of a last game when I knew that after, it was over. I never had that goodbye to basketball. And then there was obviously the Corona season. No fans. And so, there was never really a goodbye.
“But then when he coached his last game in Trier when it was pretty much clear that he was gonna leave, they had a big retirement ceremony of his jersey. And that was already like, three, four years after I retired. So, [the] gym was packed. Obviously, it was announced that [they were] going to have a jersey retirement ceremony. And so, everybody came onto the court congratulating him, and so on. And then he got the mic and started thanking fans, thanking the coaches, the organization.
“And then, he obviously knew that I was in the stands with my little son. So, that’s his time of saying goodbye. His big ceremony. And he took that time to not speak about himself, whatever. But he took the time to get me and my son on the court because we never really had that goodbye.
“[He] then spent like, two, three minutes of his own ceremony thanking me, what kind of good teammate I was. And that just shows what a character he is. In a moment where this is his big goodbye, his jersey retirement ceremony, and he’s actually spending it in the spotlight with somebody else who [he] thought also deserved something like that.”
“I think that moment tells a lot about Buck.”
He spent nearly a decade in Germany, carving out a life for himself and his family. The minutes Bucknor spent on the court going to war for his team were incredible, but they pale in comparison to his genuine kindness and the connection he formed with the city.
“I think he just embraced the city of Trier, and the city embraced him as well,” said Monteroso. “And that’s why No. 32 is on the floor for him. It’s an awesome [story]. His story is actually unbelievable.”