9001220127 DETROIT FREE PRESS 900606 Wednesday, June 06, 1990 METRO FINAL

NWS

1A Photo CRAIG PORTER Piston Isiah Thomas drives to the basket early in the game Tuesday against the Portland Trail Blazers at the Palace. Portland never trailed in the first half. MITCH ALBOM SEE ALSO METRO FINAL CHASER EDITON, Page 1A Copyright (c) 1990, Detroit Free Press ISIAH TO THE RESCUE PISTONS STRUGGLE, WAKE UP IN TIME In the third quarter, with the score tied and the crowd on its feet, Chuck Daly handed his captain an ammonia capsule. Isiah Thomas broke it open and took a sniff, then snapped his head in reaction. The message was clear: Wake up. Message received. Wow! What a late-breaking story! Suddenly, after three and a half quarters of near sleepwalking, the Pistons were back in control, with Thomas clanging the breakfast bell. Did you see that? You must have heard it! Here was the little giant going stone-cold nuts, firing away, jumper, lay-up, jumper, three- pointer -- scoring 12 of the Pistons' last 16 points! Here were Dennis Rodman, John Salley and Bill Laimbeer, building a fort around the Portland offense. Here were the Palace fans at their most intimidating, doing their best imitation of a jet engine and prompting Buck Williams and Jerome Kersey to miss four crucial free throws. "Hey, we didn't think you guys were going to get here in time," the crowd seemed to roar, after Detroit escaped its own lethargy and beat Portland, 105-99, to take Game 1 of the NBA Finals. "'Glad you showed up.' Oooh, Isiah! And, oooh, Portland. You just got a lesson in NBA championships. Take 'em when they're given, because they may not come again. Before the game, Thomas had talked of the advantage he thought the Trail Blazers had in this series opener. "The pressure is on the home team in the first game," he said, speaking from experience. "If they play their cards right, they could win this thing." For much of the night it seemed like they might. The Blazers were quicker than Detroit, a few inches higher, closer to the basketball and definitely on the right side of the referee's whistle. Buck Williams was rising and throwing in jumpers, and Clyde Drexler was driving the hoop and dropping in baskets, and Kevin Duckworth, who -- and I say this with all due respect -- is the size of a Winnebago, well, old Kevin was swishing one-handers from the outside. For much of the game, Portland seemed like a lay-up machine, shot after shot banked off glass. "We were struggling energy-wise," Thomas said afterward. "We just didn't seem to have the emotion." Indeed. It was like one of those dreams where you're falling and falling and at the last second, you wake up. Thank goodness it was Thomas (33 points) who touched Earth first. Once there, he seemed to race around the court, slapping his teammates in the face. "You up? You up?" They're are now. Wake up and smell the victory. Experience necessary This was one that goes to experience, to know-how, it was like drawing interest on all those previous playoff games. You didn't need the uniforms to know which of these teams has been to the Finals three straight years, and which held a victory party after winning the Western Conference. Before the game, the Pistons' locker room was indistinguishable from a regular season game. Players sauntered in at the usual time, some even later than usual. Vinnie Johnson slumped lazily by his locker, smiling at the mood. "You know, I remember our first game in the Finals three years ago. Guys came in early. Real early. Hey, there were guys at the shoot around (that afternoon) who were saying, 'Let's play right now. We're ready!' In the locker room before we started, I saw guys who were sweating just sitting here. It's like 'It's the Finals. the whole world is watching. Man, this is what it's all about.' I couldn't sleep the night before, I was so busy thinking about what I would do. I didn't sleep a minute." "And now? How did you sleep last night?" He grinned. "Like a baby." This is the difference between the first time and the third time. This is the difference between a crowd of 15,000 at the airport when the Trail Blazers returned from beating Phoenix, and a simple round of applause by the Palace crowd when the Pistons beat the Bulls. Complacency? Not really. Call it familiarity. You can't pretend you haven't been here before. So you might as well make it work for you. Of course, if you remember that first game against LA, you also remember this: The Pistons won. No such luck for Portland. "This whole thing," said Thomas, "is psychological warfare. When we made the Finals the first year, I couldn't understand why the Lakers were saying they wanted Boston to come out there instead of us. It was because they were familiar with them. They knew what to expect. "In a situation like this, we really don't know what to expect. We don't know what they're bringing. We're sort of the team that's off-balance right now." He wrapped his upper lip over his lower lip, as if thinking whether he should say the next sentence. He did. "They could win." Thomas wouldn't let them. Fighting lethargy And so the Pistons take the opener, despite injuries to Rodman and Joe Dumars. In many ways, they are fortunate. There was a lethargy that seemed to settle over the whole Palace like a fog. Here was an big game that seemed more like a forgotten anniversary. The Finals? Wait a minute. Is that tonight? Already? The sweat seemed barely dry from the Chicago series, the voices were still a little hoarse, the pretzel bowl still sitting on the end table, three-quarters empty. One thing is for sure; the Blazers are not the Bulls. They move a lot faster and grab a lot more rebounds. But they got the same treatment as the Bulls in their Game 1. Before the game, someone had asked Thomas about the wild celebration in Portland after they made the Finals, the crowd at the airport, the players celebrating as if they had won the lottery. He smiled. "You hope they fall into the trap that's waiting for them. You hope they see the hole, not the donut." They saw the hole. Thomas pushed them into it. GAME; BASKETBALL; DPISTONS;Pistons