8601260017
DETROIT FREE PRESS
860608
Sunday, June 08, 1986
METRO FINAL
1F
Photo
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1986, Detroit Free Press
NBA'S GAME 6 MAY HAVE TECHNICAL FOUL AND TKO
BOSTON -- They will not jump it up today. They will ring a bell instead.
Out will come the Celtics. Out will come the Rockets. They will circle one
another, looking for an open shot, looking a rebound, looking for a . . .
Fight? Who said fight?
"And it's a good opening left jab by Larry Bird," the announcer says. "And
you see Ralph Sampson go right for the head. The top of the head, of course.
"There's K.C. Jones stripping off his shirt. And Bill Fitch putting in his
mouthpiece, and . . . "
Hold it. Whoa. There will be none of that. Those theatrics are over. They
went out with Game 5 of this NBA final series -- the night of the Ralph
Sampson vs. Jerry Sichting and Akeem Olajuwon vs. Dennis Johnson bouts. No
more fisticuffs. No residual bad feelings. The Rockets and Celtics enter
Boston Garden today for Game 6 like new-born kittens, all cuddly and
good-natured.
The game is the thing today. With a win, the Celtics take the NBA crown.
With a win, the Rockets force a Game 7 -- going far beyond what everyone
expected, taking the measure of the men in green, putting up an unbelievable .
. .
Fight? Who said fight?
"And the chairs are flying," the announcer screams, "and there goes the
popcorn. And there goes the popcorn vendor. Olajuwon lifts Danny Ainge and
stuffs him through the basket. Bill Walton lifts Allen Leavell and stuffs him
through the other basket -- and he's fouled. He'll go to the line to shoot
Mitchell Wiggins . . . "
Steamy Garden salad?
Please. Your imagination is running wild. There will be no trouble. No
angry feelings from the Boston Garden crowd. Remember, after Game 5 in
Houston, when K.C. Jones predicted the Boston fans today would be "oh, pretty
docile, you know -- just there to watch the game." You thought he was kidding?
Being sarcastic? Not at all.
The Celtics fans will be on their best behavior. They will wait in line
patiently for paper cups full of their favorite beverage. They will be cheery
and good-spirited and well- groomed. No one will be without a shirt. No one
will wave a dirty sign. No one will holler "Houston S----!" Each and every fan
will politely find his or her seat, and the already-seated patrons will let
them pass without a . . .
Who keeps saying "fight?"
"And Red Auerbach just dumped a box of cigars on Ray Patterson!" the
announcer screams. "And Patterson retaliates with a gallon of oil on Red's
shoes! The referees are gone. The players are in a pile at center court. Jerry
Sichting has Robert Reid in the pretzel hold. Jim Petersen has Kevin McHale in
the salami lock. And . . . "
Stop that. Right now. There is no basis for such thinking. Everything will
be fine. Everything will be peaceful.
Forget that Boston play-by-play man Johnny Most called Sampson "gutless"
and "yellow" during Game 5. That was a slip of the tongue. The broadcasters
will be completely impartial today.
Forget that the Houston crowd called for an encore appearance by Sampson
after Game 5, and he came out to a rousing roar of applause. They were
clapping because they like him, not because of the, uh . . .
The uh . . .
"And the the whole upper deck has attacked the lower deck with cotton
candy sticks," the announcer screams, "and it's bedlam here at the Garden,
absolute bedlam . . . "
May the best team win
Now look. Just because Boston Garden is a tinder box, just because Sichting
likened Sampson's punches to "a mosquito," just because Dennis Johnson
grumbled "We're not even yet" with a bandage over his left temple Thursday
night, just because retaliation seems to be the thing to do does not mean it
will be done.
Once this series was just a lounge act, something Boston fans had to sit
through to get to the big event; the crowning of the Celtics as world
champions. But now -- through some magnificent basketball -- this has become
a bona fide struggle. A real NBA final. Houston vs. Boston. Three games to
two. May the best team win.
The players are smart enough to know that. The announcers are smart
enough. The fans are smart enough. No pretzel-holds. No stuffing each other
through the hoop.
They will jump it up to start today's game. They will not need a bell. And
if they do, and you are watching at home, you should simply get up and switch
the channel. After all, wouldn't you rather switch than . . .
Who keeps saying that?
CUTLINE:
Jerry Sichting