<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8601160410
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
860412
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Saturday, April 12, 1986
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL CHASER
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1C
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1986, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
NBA'S NEW REBOUND KING KEEP COUNT ON THE COURT
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
Up goes the shot, down comes the rebound, in goes Bill Laimbeer.

  "That's one," he says, grabbing it.

  Up goes the shot, down comes the rebound, out comes Bill Laimbeer.
  "That's two,"  he says.
  Up shot, down rebound, out Laimbeer.
  "That's three," he says.
  He counts. He rebounds. He divides. He rebounds. He figures out
percentages. He rebounds. All game long. All at the  same time. In the two or
three seconds it takes to run upcourt, Bill Laimbeer has got it all added up.
His mind is an NBA calculator, a gray-matter box score. You half expect his
eyes to blink on and  off. Rebound 10, rebound 11 . . . 
  He has been doing it all season -- keeping his stats, and everybody else's.
Now the season is just about over. And the numbers are in his favor.
  Jackpot.
  Say hello to the new NBA rebound king, ladies and gentlemen. A man born
into wealth, a man who can't jump over a dog, a man abhorred by half the
league as a dirty player and by the other half as  a crybaby. Say hello to
Bill Laimbeer, the new NBA rebound king.
  Because you can't argue with numbers.
He sees it as his job
  He has them. He has 1,075 rebounds (13.11
 average),  well ahead  of the  1,008 (12.75)  by second-place Charles Barkley
of Philadelphia.
  He did it by playing every game  and by figuring every ball that went
up had his name on it coming down.
  "It's my job,"  he says.
  And so, for the first time in six years, Moses Malone will not claim the
title. It goes to the big guy from Detroit. But don't expect speeches like,
"Gee, I didn't even know. How nice." Uh-uh. This is a man who had Charles
Barkley updates within minutes of the final whistle. Whose first words off the
floor were, "How many did he get?"
  Laimbeer may say, "The rebounding title isn't  really that important to
me. It was my teammates who wanted me to get it." Baloney. His teammates
weren't bent over the newspaper in the locker room, dividing rebounds earned
by games played.
  But  that's OK. The Pistons don't mind that. Especially going into the
playoffs. You can never have too many rebounds. Besides, it's this type of
competitiveness that characterizes Laimbeer in the first place.
  Most people know by now that Laimbeer, 28, is the son of a successful
business executive, that his "street ball" was played in his backyard, that he
once flunked out of college from sheer laziness  and is too slow and too
earthbound to walk in the same room as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar or Malone.
  But Bill Laimbeer is competitive. He's the kid who comes up after a test in
school and says,  "What'dya  get? What'dya get?" And you show him your B-plus
and he whips out his A-minus and says, "Beat ya."
  A few years ago, he bet teammate Isiah Thomas he would outshoot him in
free-throw percentage.  He shot 87 percent for the season -- far better than
he had ever shot before -- and won. "In practice they sometimes play for
travel money," says Pistons public relations director Matt Dobek. "You should
see him. He plays like mad. Like an animal. For what -- $20?"
  Well, whatever gets you up. Last September, Laimbeer says, he was at an NBA
Players Association dinner. Malone, as usual, was accepting  the award for
rebound king. In his speech, Malone said, "This is too much work. Next year
I'm going for something easy, like the scoring title. I'll leave the
rebounding to guys like Bill Laimbeer."
  He sat back down and Laimbeer said to him, "You're right, Moses. I'm
gonna win it next year."
  And now he has.
Tiring and thankless
  Of course, it's also well known that Laimbeer
hears more  boos than cheers. He is not popular around the league. He has
tussled with more guys than Marvis Frazier. And he's had his share of Academy
Award "I was fouled" performances.
  But you can't take this  title away from him. Rebounding is tough and
thankless. "It's so much more tiring than people realize," Laimbeer says. "I
got so tired this year. I don't know how Malone did it for five years."
  There  is more to it than being tall, which Laimbeer is (6- feet-11, 265
pounds), or fast, which Laimbeer isn't, or a leaper, which Laimbeer also
isn't. He credits his success to "desire, position, and doing  anything I have
to to get the ball."
  Let's leave the last part to your imagination.
  In the meantime, there's no arguing with numbers, and numbers say he is the
king. He ought to know. He has  been adding them up since his first rebound of
the season. And for those of you who find it strange that a man can play
basketball and keep an adding machine going in his head, well, you don't know
Bill Laimbeer. "What else are you gonna think about when you run upcourt," he
says, "going fishing?" Yeah.
  Huh?
CUTLINE:
Bill Laimbeer
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
DPISTONS;COLUMN;BILL LAIMBEER;Pistons
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
