There's a movie out now in which Jim Carrey gets to be God for a while. And I figure, if he can, why can't Joe Dumars? I mean, Carrey never won NBA executive of the year.So, while he is Joe Almighty, here are my suggestions for Dumars' Ten Commandments of the Off-Season.1. THOU SHALT THINK POSTSEASON.
SALT LAKE CITY -- He's the one. The golden child. They all know it."C'MON BODE! . . ."It's the reason you saw a little more grit in their teeth as Bode Miller sliced down the giant slalom Thursday."C'MON, BODE! . . ."You could almost hear their prayer as he neared the finish."PLEEEASE, BODE! . . ."He's the reason the U.S. ski coaches and managers and poobahs all leapt a little higher when his hungry, wolfish style gave them another minor miracle, a silver medal from the back of the pack."YES, BODE, YES!"
Time after time, their best hope went into the belly of the beast. Time after time, he came away bloody. Here was Mateen Cleaves, the heart of the Spartans, driving into the Syracuse defense, twisting, leaping, rolling up a shot and -- swat! Rejected. Another drive, a fast break this time, surely now he's going to scor-- swat! Blocked again, into the hands of a Syracuse player, into the hands of another Syracuse player, into the hands of another Syracuse player who jammed it home for a big lead.
This is a college story. A young man named Bobby Madison arrived in Kalamazoo a few years ago. He came to play basketball. He came from Alabama, a small town with an elastic plant and a barbecue joint. He knew nothing of Michigan, except that it was cold. Snow? He'd seen snow. A few times. Near Birmingham. Down there, he says, if it snows three inches "we miss school for five days."He unpacked his bags and waited in the dorm room."Then this tall skinny kid comes in," Madison recalls, "and I said, 'Well, I guess this is my roommate.' "
As the last city in America to have hockey and basketball teams in the playoffs, we in Detroit have a unique problem.It can all get so confusing. Slam dunks on Tuesdays? Slap shots on Wednesdays? Or is it the other way around?What channel are we on?Which round is it?How do we know which sport we're watching?There are many differences between the NBA and the NHL, not the least of which is you've never seen hockey players' knees.
The wife sighs. She has seen this before. Her husband is face-down in the pillow, Monday morning, and he is not moving."You'll be late for work," she says."Can't do work," the husband mumbles."Why not?""Red Wings tonight. Need sleep. West Coast game. Gonna be up late.""What about your job?"He pulls the pillow around his ears. "This is my job," he yells.
On Tuesday, the Tigers lost their president. Sounds bad, huh?Well, before you draw any conclusions, answer this simple question: Who was their last president?No, Bill Clinton is incorrect.The last president of the Tigers was Mike Ilitch. He is also the owner -- and he was then, too. Ilitch handed the reins to John McHale in 1995. McHale left Tuesday to join the Tampa Bay Devil Rays as chief operating officer.Don't be shocked if Ilitch takes the reins back.
It is not his favorite subject. When you remind Kris Draper that this blood-feud rivalry between Detroit and Colorado really began with him, six years ago, when he was cheap-shotted into the boards by Claude Lemieux and an all-out hockey war was declared, he gives a rare sarcastic response."Yeah, lucky me," he says. "I got to have my face rearranged to start a rivalry."The wounds have healed. The scars long since passed. And Draper would rather be singled out for something else these days. He has worked hard to make that so.
TO: Grant Hill The Deliberating Superstar c/o The Detroit PistonsDear Grant,I trust this letter finds you well, at least as well as a man can be three days after ankle surgery. While you were in the hospital, did you remember to avoid the Jell-O? I'm sure you did. You've always been smart.Which brings me to your future, where you must also be smart. It is not my place, as an aging sportswriter who can barely make a lay-up, to advise a sleek young NBA superstar about his prospects.But I'll do it anyhow.
For years, I tried to hide it. If people asked, I denied the rumors. But sooner or later, like a moon through the clouds, your secrets emerge from darkness. And in a few days, mine will be exposed.So I conferred with my people, my handlers, and they suggested, like Bill O'Reilly, it was best if I got out in front of this nasty business. So I will. Right here. I will confess it now.I do Elvis.
The judge called it "the most unusual request I've ever had."The defense attorney said, "I've never heard anything like it."Even the crook admits he never tried anything this brazen.Then again, it is Michigan-Ohio State weekend."The first thing he wanted me to do," said defense attorney Tully Rogers, "was to get him out on bond so he could watch the game. He promised to come right back. I said, 'I don't think the judge is gonna go for that. Maybe we can come up with something else.' "
JUST OVER two minutes left in the Super Bowl. The score is tied. You are the quarterback. The ball is yours. What swirls inside your brain? Nerves? Hesitation? Does the inner voice say, "Be careful"? Does the inner voice say, "No mistakes"? Does the inner voice say, "The whole world is watching. Take it easy. Small steps"?Or does it say, "Aw, heck, go for the whole thing"?
