The Pistons Take a Powder

MICHAEL JORDAN AND ISIAH THOMAS, 1991

    
     “We definitely won’t get swept.” So said Isiah Thomas of the Detroit Pistons on Memorial Day, 1991. Game 4 of the NBA's Eastern Conference finals was to be played that day, and the Bulls had won the first three.
     The two teams had a good deal of history between them—it was their third straight meeting in the conference finals. The Pistons had defeated the Bulls in six games in 1989 and seven games in 1990, and had gone on to capture the world championship both times.
     The Pistons called themselves the Bad Boys, and indeed their style of play often suggested football or rugby rather than basketball. Bill Laimbeer’s specialty was the well-placed elbow to the back of the head; Dennis Rodman’s was taking the legs out from under airborne opponents as they drove to the hoop. “At some level, you were gonna have to contest [the Pistons] physically if you were gonna stay in the game with them,” Bulls coach Phil Jackson said. “If you didn’t want to stay in the game with them, fine. They’d go ahead and beat you. But if you wanted to compete, you’d have to do something physically to play at their level.”
     For three games, the Bulls had handled everything the Pistons had thrown at them.
     In the early stages of Game 4, though, it appeared that Thomas’s prediction might be right. Fired up by an ear-splitting crowd of 21,454 at the Palace of Auburn Hills, the Pistons came out with more intensity than they had shown in the previous games. They led 22-20 late in the first quarter
     Then came the turning point. As Bulls guard John Paxson drove to the basket, Laimbeer shouldered him into the stands. Paxson got up, had a few choice words for Laimbeer (his fellow Notre Dame alumnus), and calmly converted the two free throws. “It got me going a little bit,” Paxson said of Laimbeer’s cheap shot. On the Bulls’ next possession, Michael Jordan passed up a chance to dunk over Laimbeer and threw the ball out to Paxson, whose 18-footer was perfect. Paxson scored 10 straight points for the Bulls, and from then on the outcome was never seriously in doubt.
     If they were destined to lose, though, the Pistons at least remained true to their identity as the Bad Boys. They heard no inner voices urging them to bow out with dignity. With the Bulls in front 42-34 in the second quarter, Rodman’s body block sent Scottie Pippen skidding into the seats. Several players rushed off the Bulls bench expecting a fight to break out, but Horace Grant reminded his friend not to sink to the Pistons’ level. “You play, you play!” he shouted as Pippen shook the cobwebs from his head.
     “We knew what was coming,” said Jordan. “You take the lumps, bruises, and cuts. You take every beating, elbow, and punch and be smart about it. You look left and right and still try to play your game.” The Bulls kept their cool and gradually turned the game into a rout. They led 57-50 at halftime and 87-74 after three quarters. They were ahead by 20 two minutes into the fourth quarter, and that margin remained roughly unchanged thereafter. The Bulls won 115-94.
     Jordan was superb, as expected, but Pippen was a revelation. His 23 points and 10 assists proved that he was not only an ideal sidekick for Jordan, but also a full-fledged star in his own right. For the series, he averaged 22 points, 7.8 rebounds, and 5.3 assists to emerge at least partially from Jordan’s very long shadow.
     As the clock ticked down toward Detroit’s elimination, Laimbeer, Thomas, Rodman, and Mark Aguirre managed to embarrass themselves more completely than even the Bulls’ dominance had. By slinking off their bench and into the locker room before the game was over, the Pistons’ veteran “leaders” apparently sought to deny the legitimacy of the Bulls’ triumph—as if refusing to acknowledge the result would somehow erase it. They were rightly chastised for failing to congratulate the Bulls, but worse yet was how they so casually abandoned five teammates who happened to be on the court at the time. It was a fittingly shabby way for the Bad Boys to end their reign as champions.
     To every question posed by the media after the game, Laimbeer had the same sneering reply: “They won.” Rodman, too, claimed to be unimpressed by the team that had trailed for only 13 of the 192 minutes played in the series. “They still haven’t proved anything,” he said. “They’ve got to win about five or six championships before they’re a great team.”
     Even by this unreasonably lofty standard, of course, the Bulls would qualify for greatness before the decade was out. And, unbelievably, Rodman himself would be sporting their colors for three titles.

Reprinted from Heydays: Great Stories in Chicago Sports
(c)2009, 2010 by Christopher Tabbert

Dick Motta: A Lotta Bull

DICK MOTTA

     The departure of the Bulls' popular head coach Johnny “Red” Kerr after the 1967-68 season was a serious blow. But when managing partner Dick Klein tapped an obscure young coach from Weber State University in Utah to replace Kerr, he probably saved the franchise. The announcement attracted little notice in the press—because Dick Motta’s first day as coach of the Bulls was also George Halas’s last as coach of the Bears. It was May 27, 1968, forty-two years ago yesterday.
     The two-year-old Bulls franchise was still all but invisible in Chicago. “We had four people in the front office,” said Motta. “We had a coach and no assistant. There were no newspaper people following us on the road. We didn’t do radio on the road. We didn’t do TV on the road. They sold, I think, 38 season tickets that year.”
     The Bulls opened the 1968-69 season with a starting five of Jerry Sloan and Flynn Robinson at guards, Bob Boozer and Jim Washington at forwards, and rookie Tom Boerwinkle at center. Their new coach was quite a contrast from the easy-going Kerr. He battled ceaselessly with his bosses, the media, referees, and any player who didn’t want to do things his way. A month into the season, Motta went home from practice one night and called Klein at home. “If Flynn [Robinson] is there tomorrow,” he said, “I’m gone.”
     Klein resented the ultimatum and told Motta so. Nonetheless, he traded Robinson to the Milwaukee Bucks for forward Bob Love and guard Bobby Weiss. Then he phoned Motta to “congratulate” him for forcing what he called the worst trade he’d ever made. “Motta had no idea who we were,” said Weiss, “and Klein did not like the deal. It was just one of those things that worked out.” Motta later described the trade as “the major turning point of the franchise.” The wiry, six-foot-eight Love became a force at both ends of the court (he would lead the Bulls in scoring for seven consecutive seasons), and the scrappy Weiss proved a solid sixth man.
     The Bulls went 33-49 and missed the playoffs in Motta’s first year, but they were starting to jell.
     Pat Williams was appointed general manager in 1969, replacing Klein, who had run afoul of his fellow partners. “I rubbed some furs the wrong way,” said Klein. Williams's first order of business was to complete a trade with the club he had just left, the 76ers, for forward Chet Walker.
     Walker, master of the pump fake and an excellent free-throw shooter, was just what the Bulls needed—a go-to guy who could deliver in pressure situations. “Chet [Walker] was a great clutch player,” said teammate Matt Guokas. “When teams stopped our offense, we needed good one-on-one players to finish it off. Chet was the guy.” Walker teamed with Love to give the Bulls a superb forward tandem.
     Meanwhile, the fiery Sloan thrived under Motta, a kindred spirit, emerging as the most tenacious defender in the league. “It took me about 10 minutes to recognize that he was very special,” Motta said. “There weren’t many players that had his intensity.” And Boerwinkle developed into an outstanding rebounder and passer. “He really set the whole Motta program up,” said Sloan, “because of his ability to pass the ball.”
     The 1969-70 Bulls finished 39-43 and won only one of five games in their first-round playoff series. It was clear, however, that they were on the verge of being one of the elite teams in the league. As Motta left the locker room after the last playoff game, he said, “I wish the season started all over again tomorrow.”
     The Bulls won 50 or more games in each of the next four seasons. Attendance soared. The Bulls didn’t win any championships in those years, but they won over enough Chicagoans to ensure that the franchise was here to stay. “The thing I really feel a little bit of pride in,” said Sloan, “is the fact that we kept the franchise here. Otherwise it would have been gone.”

Adapted from Heydays: Great Stories in Chicago Sports
(c) 2009, 2010 by Christopher Tabbert

Stan Jones, 1931 – 2010

STAN JONES

     If you sat down with some buddies to try and name the 26 Bears in the Pro Football Hall of Fame without looking them up, the name of Stan Jones probably wouldn’t be one of the first to come to mind.
     Jones, who passed away Friday at the age of 78, played for the Bears from 1954 through 1965 and was inducted into the Hall in 1991. If he is not as well remembered as other Bears legends, maybe it’s because he toiled for most of his career at the thankless position of offensive guard (he was only the fourth guard to be enshrined in Canton).
     Jones’s resume includes seven consecutive Pro Bowl appearances from 1955 to 1961, but his chief claim to fame is that he was the first athlete in any major sport to make weight training a central part of his workout routine. Lifting transformed Jones from a 140-pound high schooler to the strongest man in the NFL.
     “I'll tell you one thing, he could lift the side of a house,” said Bears defensive tackle Fred Williams. “He was one strong son of a gun.”
     Before Jones came along and proved its value, weight training was considered to be useful only for bodybuilding per se, not as a strength-and-conditioning tool for athletes. “If I hadn't lifted weights,” Jones said, “I probably wouldn't have become a pro football player. It really helped me recover from the bruises after every game.” Jones never missed a game in high school, college, or the pro ranks—logging 22 years of football without a significant injury.
     In 1962, the Bears were a little short on the defensive line, and their imaginative defensive coordinator George Allen asked Jones to help out. Jones played on both sides of the ball that year, and then played defense exclusively in 1963. Jones, at left tackle, was part of a front four that included Williams at right tackle and Doug Atkins and Ed O’Bradovich on the ends. Thanks in large part to this group, the Bears won the world championship.
    When asked it was strange playing defense after so many years on offense, Jones asserted that he was actually quite comfortable. “On offense, you are limited,” he said. “You have more freedom on defense. You can dish it out for a change.”

On a Roll

In 1992, as in 2010, the Blackhawks swept the Western Conference finals. We hope that the similarities go no further than that, because the '92 Hawks went no further than that.

STEVE LARMER

     As the Bulls and Blackhawks advanced through their respective playoffs in 1992, Chicago fans entertained the novel idea of simultaneous championships. The Bulls were heavy favorites to win their second consecutive NBA title, while the Blackhawks were longshots to win their first Stanley Cup in three decades.
     The Hawks carried a seven-game winning streak into the conference finals, having won three in a row to close out their first playoff series against the St. Louis Blues and four straight to dispatch the Detroit Red Wings in the second round.
     It was their fourth conference finals against Edmonton since 1983, and the first three tries had not gone well. But the team confronting the Hawks this time was not the unstoppable Oilers who had won five Stanley Cups in seven years. Wayne Gretzky, Mark Messier, Jari Kurri, and Paul Coffey were gone, and the Oilers had plodded through the season with a mark of 36-34-10.
     The series began with a bang when Steve Larmer tallied for the Hawks only 47 seconds into Game 1 at the Stadium. But Chicago’s All-Star goalie Ed Belfour was shaky, allowing two soft goals later in the period. The score was 2-2 at the first intermission. “Eddie started slow,” said center Jeremy Roenick, “but then he put it in overdrive.”
     So did the Hawks, who suddenly transformed the tie game into a rout. A three-goal barrage by Mike Peluso, Roenick, and Steve Smith started 2:51 into the period and concluded less than 90 seconds later. The Hawks now led 5-2, and Game 1 had been decided. For good measure, the Hawks lit the lamp three more times in the third period to make the final score 8-2.
     Larmer, an unflappable 10-year-veteran and former Rookie of the Year, had scored the first and last goals of the game and assisted on two others in between. The four points put him over 100 in postseason games for his career, a level previously reached only by Stan Mikita, Bobby Hull, and Denis Savard in Blackhawks history. After the game, reporters asked if Larmer was excited about his performance and the Hawks’ prospects. “Maybe,” he replied. “I guess.”
     Edmonton coach Ted Green was more quotable. “We’re certainly going to have to pick up our socks,” he said, “or else it’s going to be a very short series.”
     Green proved prophetic. In Game 2, Larmer’s goal off a nifty pass from Michel Goulet tied the score 2-2 with 14 minutes left. Goulet tallied ten minutes later, assisted by Larmer. Stephane Matteau’s goal 45 seconds thereafter put the game away. Defenseman Chris Chelios assisted on all three Chicago goals in the third period.
     Game 3 at Edmonton was deadlocked 3-3 after three periods. Two minutes and 45 seconds into overtime, Roenick received a pass from Chelios in the slot and cranked away. Edmonton goalie Bill Ranford never saw the shot. “I heard a chink when it hit the crossbar,” he said. “I was waiting for a cheer [from the Edmonton crowd]. When I didn’t hear a cheer, I knew it was over.” It was indeed. Roenick’s shot clanged off the bottom of the crossbar and spun into the net. The Hawks won 4-3.
     The demoralized Oilers had little left for Game 4. The Blackhawks sailed away to a 5-0 lead in the first two periods and prevailed 5-1. Their postseason winning streak had reached 11, a new NHL record, and they were headed to the Stanley Cup finals for the first time since 1973.
     By now the Tribune had taken to printing a “Championship Countdown” showing the “combined magic number of wins that would give the Bulls and Hawks championships.” On Saturday, May 23, the number stood at seven for the Bulls (who were tied 1-1 in their conference finals) and at four for the Blackhawks. Alas, the Hawks’ countdown went no further. They were swept by Mario Lemieux and the Pittsburgh Penguins in the finals, losing the four games by a total of five goals.
     The Hawks qualified for the playoffs every year from 1970 through 1997, and made three appearances in the finals, but the ultimate prize continued to elude them, as it had since 1961.

Reprinted from Heydays: Great Stories in Chicago Sports
(c)2009, 2010 by Christopher Tabbert

The Fog Bowl

KEVIN BUTLER AND FELLOW PLAYERS IN THE FOG

     When Bears defensive coordinator Buddy Ryan resigned after the 1986 Super Bowl to become head coach of the Philadelphia Eagles, the uneasy truce that he and Mike Ditka had observed for four years was fractured forever. Since they no longer had to work together, each man was now free to say just what he thought of the other. Both men made full use of the privilege, and their long-simmering enmity bubbled over in a series of recriminations back and forth through the media.
     The feud was good theater, and it sparked interest in the Eagles-Bears playoff game at Soldier Field on the last day of 1988. Unfortunately, the crowd of 65,534 and the national television audience saw only the first half. The second half was rendered all but invisible by fog.
     Neal Anderson’s four-yard touchdown blast put the Bears ahead 14-6 with 6:21 remaining in the second quarter. This took place under sunny skies. But when Kevin Butler added a field goal some four minutes later, the fog was rolling in from Lake Michigan and creeping over the stands. Within minutes, the whole field had been obscured.
     For the rest of the game, the spectators could not see a thing. Nor could the TV cameras capture the action going on behind and within the soupy curtain of fog. “I felt like I was on another planet,” a CBS producer remarked. For the players and officials on the field, visibility was better—but still less than 20 yards. “Have I ever played in anything like that before?” said Butler. “I haven’t even driven in anything like that before.”
     Philadelphia’s Luis Zendejas kicked two field goals (his third and fourth of the game) through the mist in the second half, and Butler booted another to make the final score Bears 20, Eagles 12. The game was quite unremarkable but for the fog. Quarterbacks Mike Tomczak of the Bears and Randall Cunningham of the Eagles tossed three interceptions apiece. The Eagles outplayed the Bears in most aspects, but they frittered away one opportunity after another—particularly in the first half, when Cunningham had two touchdown passes called back for penalties and another would-be touchdown strike dropped in the end zone.
     Despite 430 total yards and 22 first downs, the Eagles never breached the Bears’ goal line. “Credit the Bear defense,” Ryan said. “Every time we got down there, we didn’t make anything happen. We stopped ourselves. The effort was there, the heart was there, but it just didn’t happen.”
     The Bears were delighted to have gotten away with the victory that few people saw. “One good thing will come out of this,” said center Jay Hilgenberg. “We’ll have a short film session tomorrow. I mean, what are the coaches gonna show us?”
     Bob Verdi had the last word on the game that was known ever after as the Fog Bowl. “Somewhere over there on the lakefront,” he wrote, “there’s a guy who left his seat late in the first half to find a restroom and he’s still out there, trying to find his wife.”

Reprinted from Heydays: Great Stories in Chicago Sports
(c)2009, 2010 by Christopher Tabbert