<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8701260407
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
870528
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Thursday, May 28, 1987
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
NWS
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1A
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo;Photo Color Associated Press
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
PARISH OUSTED AS BATTLE SHIFTS TO SILVERDOME 
GAME 6: PASSION VS. PRIDE
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
What was once a series has become a war. Every basket for a purpose now.
Every rebound for a cause. The innocence of these play-off games has come
crashing down like a piano from a 10th- floor window,  and you need only visit
any sports bar in this country today to know what we are talking about.

  Detroit-Boston.

  Game 6.
  Look out.
  "Lemme tell you something," someone will say about  this NBA Eastern
Conference play-off game (at 9 tonight at the Silverdome).  "Those Pistons
really showed me something. They're a hell of a team. They're gonna win this
thing."
  "Lemme tell you something,"  someone will answer. "You can't beat the
Boston Celtics. They're destined. They always find a way. Didn't you see what
happened Tuesday night?"
  Tuesday night. Tuesday night. It was Tuesday night  that blew the lid off
this Pistons-Celtics box of warfare, Tuesday night that sucked in the whole
nation. Wasn't it? Don't you figure? Tuesday night? Game 5?
  Oh sure, things were bubbling even  earlier: Larry Bird and Bill
Laimbeer, clawing and jawing in Game 3; Robert Parish predicting the Pistons
"will choke" after Game 4; Isiah Thomas glowering in the Silverdome, saying,
"This is our house;  they don't win here."
  All that was swirling in the pot, growing hotter and hotter, and then  . .
. Tuesday night. The Pistons do the impossible, they have the Celtics beaten
at Boston Garden; and  in five maddening seconds it all slips away. Is there
anyone in either city who hasn't seen "The Play" at least 100 times by now?
Larry Bird steals Thomas' inbounds pass. Larry Bird dishes to Dennis Johnson.
Dennis Johnson lays it in and blows up Boston Garden.
  "Lemme tell you something," someone begins, "the Pistons know they had
them beat. No way they let their season end like that. They  could have won
all five games in this thing. They're gonna come back stronger than ever."
  "Lemme tell you something," comes the answer. "You don't recover from
bullets. You don't recover from bombshells.  The Celtics have got it. You can
forget it."
  DETROIT-BOSTON.
  Game 6.
  Look out.
 How tense has this series become? Players are paying to stay in it.  Laimbeer
was fined $5,000 for grabbing  Bird, and Bird was fined $2,000 for throwing
punches, and Parish was fined $7,500 and suspended tonight for making like
Muhammad Ali on Tuesday. Fighting?  Fines?  This is basketball?
  More than  basketball.  Tradition.  Pride.  Town against town.  "I'm sure
all of Detroit thought we had Game 5 won, and then -- whammo!" Chuck Daly said
Wednesday.  Whammo. And the whole town gears up for the next  round.
  Isn't this already better than you ever figured? Even before they tap it
up tonight? Here is a city that was wiping its brow from the Red Wings' hockey
miracles and -- pow! Basketball. Big after big. Sinatra following Elvis. Or
Elvis following Sinatra. Whoever. And the same spirit that watched the
Edmonton Oilers and said, "We can beat these guys!" has resurfaced in a domed
stadium 40  miles up the highway.
  "What do you do now?" someone had asked Isiah Thomas after Tuesday's loss,
as he slumped by his locker.
  "What we do now," he had said, softly, deliberately, "is go back  home and
win, then come back here for Game 7."
  Is there anything else? Isn't that what it is all about? The finish line?
Game 7?  The Pistons, for the first time, are staring down the barrel of their
 season's end. They are not ready for it yet. Every basket tonight will be an
attempt to forget the nightmare Johnson laid in on Tuesday; every rebound will
be a fight to go back to where the nightmare  happened. Back to Boston, back
to the haunted house, back to the Garden. 
  ONE MORE game.
  There could be no better resolution for this series. It is a growing thing
now, it has taken on life,  it draws blood, it starts arguments. It is
Laimbeer's scuffles, Thomas' persistence, Bird's jumper, Parish's injured
ankle. It is Adrian Dantley with that look in his eye. Rick Mahorn on Kevin
McHale. Coaches Chuck Daly and K.C. Jones crossing their arms and staring at
the referees in disbelief.
  It is passion against pride. Resistance against persistence. A team that
owns it against a team that  wants it. Every basket with a purpose now. Every
rebound a cause.
  "Lemme tell you something," comes a voice. "Tonight is gonna be a whale of
a game. All the anger. All the boasting. All the fights.  Everything they
got. Both of them."
  "Lemme tell you something  . . . " comes the other voice, "I agree."
  Detroit-Boston.
  Game 6.
  Whoo boy.

CUTLINE
Bill Laimbeer goes down as  he is hit by Boston's Robert Parish during the
second quarter of action at Boston Garden on Tuesday night.  
The Celtics' Robert Parish is suspended from tonight's game. Full coverage,
1D. The poster  above was  hanging  at a downtown store.
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<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
DPISTONS;BASKETBALL;COLUMN;SPT;Pistons
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
