<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8601250009
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
860602
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, June 02, 1986
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL CHASER
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1F
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1986, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
ROCKETS REACH FOR THE SKY; FINALLY, THEY GET THERE FIRST
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
HOUSTON -- Finally, it was time for giants. There were seven seconds left
in the madness of this NBA championship series game, the crowd was roaring
like a rocket blast, and the players loped out  to center court, sweaty and
ready. Big Ralph Sampson, 7-feet-4, was staring into the eyes of big Robert
Parish, 7- feet- 1/2, with big Akeem Olajuwon, 7-feet, standing nearby. Jump
ball. Big on big.

  No more little men now. No more feisty guards, darting like water bugs. No
more small forwards popping those baseline jumpers. The score was 105-104
Houston, and all that was at stake was the Rockets'  survival. "Tower to
tower," Houston coach Bill Fitch had instructed during the time-out.  Sampson
to Olajuwon.  The moment had finally come where height mattered most -- a tap
-- and after two straight  losses to the Boston Celtics, the Rockets were more
than happy to take advantage of it. Tower to Tower.

  The Houston crowd was on its feet, stomping and whooping like some atomic
square dance. Boston  would have to grow a few inches to stop this.
  "Here we go," the referee motioned.
  The players leaned into the circle at center court. Sampson glanced over
at Olajuwon, then squared up against  Parish. Seven seconds left. Tower to
Tower. All eyes on the basketball.  The referee tossed it up.
The perfect tip 
  What drama had led to this? What confusion and hysteria? Fouls. Terrible
shots.  Momentum ricocheting like a pinball. The Rockets had dominated the
first half, led, 62-59, yet had come out in the second half on another planet.
 "It looked liked we'd been dipping into some Tijuana  water," Fitch would
say.  They threw the ball away, bounced it off their legs and knees. The
Celtics roared ahead, and everyone figured that was it.  This series, which
Boston already led, 2-0, would  be swept in four. Color it green.  Everyone
knew it. 
  Everyone, that is, except the 16,016 packed inside this gleaming arena.
Remember, this is not Boston Garden, where the Celtics had annihilated  the
Rockets in Games 1 and 2 beneath the shadow of their dusty championship
banners. Uh-uh. This is Texas, land of the steak, of the oil well, big noise,
big arena, big rock-and-roll crowd.  Big on big.
  And the big men led Houston back.  Olajuwon threw in short jumpers.
Sampson pulled down rebounds. The Celtics saw an eight-point fourth-quarter
lead disappear -- the Celtics did that?  And now, trailing  by one point, they
had let the 24- second  shot clock  tick away, too. Only "an inadvertent
whistle" by referee Jake  O'Donnell had given them another chance at the ball.
  There was confusion.  Arguing.  "I was fouled,"  Parish said. "They lost
it," Sampson said. Here was the verdict: a jump. How many times do you see one
of those in the fourth quarter? 
  The referee tossed the ball high.  Sampson  and Parish leaped for it. "I
didn't have a chance," Parish would say later. In that instant, when Sampson's
hand reached the ball first, there was a swirl of vindication for all the
abuse he has taken in the last seven days. True, he had played god-awfully  in
the first game, and only marginally  well  in the second. But this, the third
game, was his.  He was the highest.  Biggest of the big. Tower  to Tower.
  He slapped the ball to Olajuwon, who grabbed it and was fouled immediately
by Larry Bird.  Olajuwon made one of two free throws, it was 106-104 with five
seconds left, and when the Celtics  muffed an inbounds play, the Rockets had
done it. The Towers had one.
  "It was a perfect tap," Olajuwon exclaimed. "I mean, right in my
hands!"Will they return to Boston? 
  So now, on to Game  4. True, the Rockets have a long way to go. Even with
all they had going for them Sunday -- subpar play by the Celtics' centers,
subpar shooting by the Celtics' guards -- they won by only two points.  It is
possible still that they may not win again.  It is possible they may not
return to Boston for Game 6.  
  But on this day, they did this much: They found themselves. They are a big
team.  Big men. They used it. Sampson had 22 rebounds. He and Olajuwon
combined for 47 points. Tower to Tower.
  "Will we see the same intensity on Tuesday?" someone asked Olajuwon.
  "No, more, more,"  he said.
  He was smiling.  Even Sampson smiled a little.  At the very least, they
had won one.  They had showed the TV watchers why they'd made it this far.
  "If we had gone down, 3-0, it would  have been almost a nightmare,"
Rockets guard Mitchell Wiggins said. Well then. This was almost a dream.  And
it lingered into the Texas night.
  The Rockets can win.  The Celtics can lose. This was  a day for
mountaintops and cloudbursts.  For basketball way up there. Tower to Tower.
The Rockets are on the board.  The series continues, but on a much higher
level.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>

</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
