<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9601130491
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
960422
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, April 22, 1996
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1E
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>


:
Doug Collins
</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1996, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
A RITE OF SPRING RETURNS: PISTONS IN THE PLAYOFFS
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
We interrupt this hockey season for a message from the Pistons. You
remember the Pistons? Basketball team? Play up at the Palace? Once, they were
April, May and June in this city. They owned the  spring, and everything else
had to get in line for crumbs. There were basketball titles here and
basketball parties, and, everywhere you looked, people wore Pistons shirts,
and their cars had Pistons  bumper stickers. Then the Pistons lost their
crown, an graceless exit in the 1991 conference finals  against the Chicago
Bulls, and things collapsed. They drowned the next year before they even got
wet, a first-round loss to the Knicks, and after that, the Pistons did not own
the spring anymore. They became bad, then awful, then, even worse, forgotten. 

  Which is when Detroit became Hockey Town.

  Well, in case you haven't noticed, we wake up this morning with something
not seen in these parts since George Bush was president: an NBA playoff team.
The Pistons confirmed it Sunday night, winning  their season-ending game,
their 46th victory of the year. Just to show you how big that is, in the two
seasons before this, they won a total of 48 games. 
  And in the locker room afterward, you saw  something you rarely see: Doug
Collins, the new coach, went to each player, put his arm around him or shook
his hand, thanked him for believing. And the players, led by Joe Dumars,
responded. "Thanks  for getting us back to the playoffs," Dumars said. He
meant, of course, thanks also for getting him back to the playoffs. Dumars is
the only holdover from the glory years, when the Pistons owned the  spring. He
thought seriously about quitting after this year. Now, he says he'll be back.
Most of that is because of what has happened to this team this year. Like an
injured sprinter learning to walk  all over again, the Pistons have found a
stride, they are picking up speed, and it all feels very fresh, with a
definite sense of direction.
  Rising.
New guys, meet playoffs
  "Do you remember  what you were doing the last two years after the final
game?" Alan Houston was asked in the locker room after the game.
  "Oh, yeah, I remember," he said. "I had a plane flight home. I knew I was
going  a home a month before the season ended. And I couldn't wait for the
last game to be over.
  "Tonight, I couldn't wait either. But it was a different kind of feeling."
  Rising.
  Finally, there  were no suitcases after the home closer, no locker sweeps,
no tight-lipped good-byes. There will be an 83rd game of the season, and an
84th and 85th. Friday night, against Orlando, the playoffs will  say hello,
for the first time, to Houston, Lindsey Hunter, Theo Ratliff, Don Reid, Lou
Roe. 
  And yes, to Grant Hill. He is already one of the most recognized faces in
his sport. Last year he was  rookie of the year, the leading vote-getter in
the All-Star Game -- and was home by the third week of April. He was
embarrassed and frustrated, so much so, he couldn't even bear to watch the
playoffs  on TV.
  "That was the first time in my life that I didn't have some kind of
post-season," Hill said Sunday. "High school, college, we always went to
something."
  "Do you feel like you belong in  the playoffs?" he was asked.
  "I feel like the Pistons belong in the playoffs. Three years away? The
Detroit Pistons? That just doesn't seem right."
  Rising.
No letdown from this team
  Midway  through the third quarter Sunday night, the public address man
announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, the Pistons will open the playoffs against
the Orlando Magic Friday night." Collins went berserk. He screamed  at the
table, "Why are you announcing that now? Why can't you do that after the game,
for bleep's sakes!"
  He was angry, because his team didn't know the outcome of an Atlanta-Miami
game that would  determine their playoff opponent --  didn't know it, that is,
until it was boomed over the loudspeakers. Collins fretted over a letdown.
  Instead, Houston continued to bury aesthetic jump shots, and Otis Thorpe
slammed one-handed harder than most men can slam with two, and Hill grabbed
rebounds, and Dumars sank jump shots, and the Pistons, rather than let down,
actually increased their lead over  Milwaukee.
  And later, Collins, the man who stirs the stew, seemed on the verge of
tears when he talked about his troops. "We lost three in a row to open the
season and we never lost three in a row  again. You know what that says about
this team? They never get down. They keep lifting themselves up.
  "It's been six years for me since I've coached in the playoffs. I pride
myself on picking people  I want to be in the foxhole with, and I think I've
picked a good group here."
  That he has. Not the most talented. Not a playoff favorite. But a
contender. A worthy entrant. Spring is here, and hockey will have to share the
stage. There is, once again, a basketball team in this town. Look up. You can
see it rising.
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<DISCLAIMER>
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
BASKETBALL; PISTONS
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
