<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8701140829
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
870324
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Tuesday, March 24, 1987
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
STATE EDITION
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
PISTONS-DANTLEY UNION COULD BE GOOD OR BAD
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
HOUSTON -- The  Pistons are now like men dancing in wet cement, never sure
which pose will harden. It could be glory. For this is a team of talent, of
scorers, of depth. But this is also a team that  remade itself in the
off-season, and for all the wins --  44 already -- it is still difficult to
figure who'll do what on any given night.

  "That could be good," muses forward Adrian Dantley, stretching  out across
his hotel bed, "because the other team can't prepare too much."

  "And it could be bad," someone suggests, "if during the critical games, the
team is unsure of whom to go to."
  Dantley  listens and his eyes go hazy, until it looks as if he's on another
planet. He calls this thinking. "Could be," he says, nodding slowly.
  Could be. Those are the buzzwords for the Pistons this season.  A division
championship? A conference championship? A coach of the year in Chuck Daly?
  Could be. This is what is. Adrian Dantley, stretched across the bed,
talking long and loud, laughing on occasion,  feeling "better than I ever have
at this point in the season. If they keep playing me this way, I'll be around
five more years."
  He is different. That is the difference. They keep coming up to him  and
asking about his points -- "Adrian, how come you don't score like you used
to?" -- and he shrugs them off, and he tells them his role is changed, and he
tells himself the same thing. He averages  21.7 now, down from the 30's of the
past, and you'd be a fool to think a former NBA scoring leader doesn't miss
big statistics. But he has kept quiet. He has adjusted.
  "When I go out there now I  never know if I'm gonna get six shots or 20,"
he admits. "But hey. We're winning. I'm not complaining."
Proving he can adjust  It tells you something that Dantley throws in "I'm
not complaining" just  about every time he talks about his role. Such is the
residue of his Utah reputation, where people saw him as surly, brooding,
destined to lock horns with coach Frank Layden. "Detroit is completely
different,"  he says, fingering his gray Pistons T-shirt. "Take a guy like Joe
Dumars. He's quiet. Keeps to himself. Here they say, 'He's a good guy, he
don't cause problems.' In Utah they'd be saying, 'He's aloof.'
  "So that's easier. And as far as the game, I think I've adjusted as well as
any player in the league would under the same circumstances. Can you imagine
taking, like, a Dominique Wilkins, for example,  and telling him you can only
do this or that now? What do you think would happen? You see what I'm saying?
  "I had to come to grips with this. The older players said to me, 'A.D.,
you're playing great,  man. Just do what they expect from you, that's all.
Don't worry about points or numbers. Rest your body.' That type of thing.
  "And part of me wanted to listen to them. I am playing good, and I want  to
win and have longevity. But part of me said, 'I'm not old enough yet (31) to
be playing the way I'm playing now. I can still do the things I used to do.'
  "That's when I had to come to a decision,  to say hey, look here, I know
what Adrian Dantley's reputation is. His reputation is scoring points. But can
he play on other teams? I'm proving that now. I probably got more teams
interested in me now because they say, 'Hey, he can play this way. He has
adjusted.' "
  He pauses for another cosmic moment.
  "And I am the one who did the adjusting." 
Excitement and reserve  That is hard to deny.  His former post-up game is an
oldie now, making periodic blasts from the past, but never coming all the way
back. "We are a perimeter, guard-oriented team," he says blankly. Translation:
Isiah Thomas'  team.
  And he and Isiah have learned to co-exist. At times they even complement
each other. It is not yet a perfect blend, but then Daly has had to experiment
while doing, like a student getting dressed as he runs to class. Looking
respectable would be enough. Winning is a feather in his cap.
  Everybody else's, including Dantley's. Let's face it. He wasn't getting
any rings with the cast  in Utah. "My chances for a championship," he says,
"are in Detroit. I'm excited about that."
  Which hardly means he's a cheerleader. The Pistons could win it all and
Dantley would never do one silly  thing with a champagne bottle. He will never
be a media darling. He will never host the alumni barbecue. 
  But so what? Like his team, he has made an adjustment, and the process
continues, for him,  for Daly, for the rest of them, even as the clock ticks
away on the season. A title? A collapse? Could be this. Could be that.
  "Do you think like a Piston now?" he is asked.
  "How does a Piston  think?" he answers.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>

</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
