by Mitch Albom | Jun 9, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
PALOS VERDES, Calif. — I am walking past the cliffs that drop into the Pacific Ocean. I am walking past the Corvettes, and the BMWs and the dark blue
Mercedeses. I am walking past the tennis courts and the long turquoise pool.
I am walking into Bill Laimbeer’s old high school.
His high school?
“Do people really go to class here?” I ask Laimbeer’s former coach, John Mihaljevich, 52, who greets me dressed in a red windbreaker, sunglasses, shorts and a deep tan. “Do they actually study, you know, math and science and all that?”
by Mitch Albom | Jun 8, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
INGLEWOOD, Calif. — No problem, dude.
The lights? The cameras? The fast-paced LA action? Was all that supposed to bother the Pistons Tuesday night? Was it supposed to embarrass them, intimidate them, make them play like pretenders in Game 1 of this National Basketball Association final?
“Chill, baby,” the Pistons seemed to say as they jogged off the Forum court, having stunned the Lakers, 105-93, to draw first blood in this championship series. “What do you think? We never played basketball before?”
by Mitch Albom | Jun 7, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
LOS ANGELES — This is your nightmare speaking, Los Angeles. This is your darkest fear. This is the voice of a city where men get their fingernails dirty, not polished, where cars are constructed, not leased, and where most adults — are you sitting down? Are you comfy in the hot tub? Got lots of bubbles? — work for a living.
Oh, god. Not that, huh?
Move over, LA. Detroit is coming. Book us a room, and put that crown in it
— the one the Lakers have worn for the last year as NBA champions. We’ll take that home, thank you. And maybe a few of those towels.
by Mitch Albom | Jun 5, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
The hour was late, the game had long since ended, and the last fans were filing out of the Silverdome. Suddenly, Isiah Thomas, still in uniform, emerged from the Detroit locker room, walked down the tunnel — “That’s Isiah! Hey, ISIAH!” — and entered the room where the Boston Celtics were packing up. He had come to shake hands with the vanquished.
“Hey . . . ” he said, offering a palm to Dennis Johnson.
“Hey . . . ” said Johnson.
“Hey . . . ” he said to Danny Ainge.
“Nice going . . . ” said Ainge.
by Mitch Albom | Jun 4, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
At the buzzer, they hugged each other. Isn’t that the right reaction? You’re happy, you hug each other. You’re grateful, you hug each other. Joe Dumars was hugging John Salley and coach Chuck Daly was hugging assistant coach Dick Versace and Isiah Thomas was hugging Adrian Dantley at midcourt, as the crowd mobbed them both, hugging as if they’d never let each other go.
by Mitch Albom | Jun 3, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
They have been “the kids” since the day they arrived in Detroit. We dressed them in short pants, we carpooled them in the backseat. “Wait’ll the kids develop,” we whispered to each other.
by Mitch Albom | Jun 2, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
BOSTON — In the end, they simply showed too much courage to lose. It’s that simple. The gods of fate who have been stealing these heartbreaking games from Detroit and handing them to Boston must have watched this one Wednesday night and finally said: “Enough. Even we can’t be this cruel.”
by Mitch Albom | Jun 2, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
BOSTON — In the end, they simply showed too much courage to lose. It’s that simple. The gods who have been stealing these heartbreaking games from Detroit and handing them to Boston for the last two years must have finally said: “Enough. Even we...
by Mitch Albom | Jun 1, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
BOSTON — Listen. This Pistons-Celtics series? We’re going about it all wrong. We keep watching these games figuring the younger team (the Pistons), the stronger team (the Pistons), the team with the deeper bench (the Pistons) is going to win. HA!...
by Mitch Albom | May 31, 1988 | Detroit Free Press
And they say nightmares happen only in Boston Garden. Forget that. Here, as the buzzer sounded in a summer-hot Silverdome Monday afternoon, was Boston’s Danny Ainge, heaving a basketball high in celebration and pointing bleep-you fingers at the disbelieving crowd.
“YES! YES!” he shouted, his team suddenly alive again in this gut-twisting Eastern Conference final against the Pistons.
“No . . . no . . .” the crowd seemed to whisper.
