Lakers Must Prove That They Can Band Together and Beat the Rap

The hills are alive with the sound of music, and it ain’t coming from the Laker bandwagon.

Actually, there aren’t many hills in Auburn Hills. But this is a quickly growing, upscale suburb, and the developers no doubt are planning to have some hills trucked in and painted auburn.

If there were hills here, the music they would be alive with would be Piston music, like maybe the Piston “Bad Boys” rap song. This truly is the worst sports-team rap song ever produced, but around here you’d think it was the fruit of a mystical collaboration of Mozart and Smokey Robinson.

What I’m trying to say is that Greater Detroit just couldn’t be any giddier about their Pistons and the series-opening demolishment of the Lakers. The Piston blowout was sweeter than science discovering a cure for the Japanese car infestation.

Check out the Wednesday Detroit newspaper headlines:

--”Take that, L.A.!”

--”Pistons in charge; Lakers shrivel in Game 1”

Shrivel? If you’re a manly team like the Lakers, you can maybe accept a media analysis that what you did in Game 1 was sputter, falter, plod or collapse. Choke, even. But shrivel?

I picture Pat Riley brandishing the headline and challenging his players: “Are we men, or are we raisins?”

And that’s basically the big question facing the Lakers tonight.

Also facing the Lakers is the greatest opportunity in the history of the franchise. OK, maybe that’s debatable, but this is the finals, a time for making grand, sweeping statements.

They are in a marvelous position right now. Byron Scott is out for at least one more game, most likely for the entire series, the Lakers are in hostile territory, they are reeling and yes, possibly even shriveling.

If ever there was a time to cement their place in hoop history as a great and courageous team, this is that time.

The only thing that could be more impressive than a now-impossible Laker sweep of this series, the only thing that would convince Laker detractors that this truly is a team of substance and character, would be for the Lakers to fight out of the hole they are currently in.

Don’t cry for the Lakers. This is their chance to put the stamp of greatness on their decade, for those who are still withholding that honor.

Great teams don’t shrivel in the face of adversity. For an illustration, we take you back briefly to the NBA Finals of 1980, Magic Johnson’s rookie season. The opponent is the Philadelphia 76ers.

The series is 2-2. In Game 5 at the Forum, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar suffers a severe ankle sprain and is carried off the court. He limps back in the second half, plays brilliantly and leads the Lakers to a win.

Now the series shifts to Philadelphia. Kareem’s ankle is shot and he stays home, and remember, he is the league’s regular-season MVP. Norm Nixon has a severe finger injury that limits him to a cameo role in Game 6.

You know the story. Magic Johnson and Jamaal Wilkes, and bench-warmers such as Brad Holland, play inspired ball, run the 76ers off the court and win the title that kicks off the decade.

That’s one example of non-shriveling playoff behavior. There are dozens more. Such as, the Celtics two years ago, pushing the Lakers to the limit even though Kevin McHale and Robert Parish weren’t physically sound enough, between them, to mail a letter.

Or the Pistons last year, picking up the slack when Isiah Thomas’ injured leg allows him to play basically only one great half of basketball.

When the Lakers won the series, Isiah and his little boo-boo were instantly forgotten. The Lakers won, the Pistons lost, there was no asterisk in the record book denoting an injury-aided championship.

If the Pistons win this series, Scott’s injury will be only a tiny footnote, or legnote.

Courage is called for here, and Magic Johnson, specifically, will have to pull his team together. This postseason has not been the best of Magic’s career, despite the team’s 11-0 record going into the finals.

Tuesday night, during timeouts and breaks in the action, Johnson looked like a weary and beaten man. On the court, he lacked the old Magic fire.

Now, somehow, he has to shift himself into a higher gear, and the other Lakers have to be ready to follow.

It won’t be easy. Game 1 was as ugly up close as it must have looked on TV to Laker fans. After the game, one member of the Laker party--and I use the word party advisedly--had this to say:

“Whoooo.”

The Pistons are ready. And their fans are poised--another word I use advisedly--to haul out all the shopworn jokes about Los Angeles and quiche and Rodeo Drive and wimpy basketball.

As an objective reporter, I’m not rooting for either side. But I am concerned about our civilization, and the Lakers are the only force now that can stop the insidious spread of the “Bad Boys” rap song.