U.S. Loses Shirts, but It’s Lights Out for the Argentines

Not since Romans filled coliseums to watch lions and Christians have so many come to see so great a mismatch. There were 30,701 in the Georgia Dome to see the Dream Team win by 50, but someone forgot to tell the Argentines they were for dinner.

Argentina was within two points at halftime and within 13 with 5:07 to play Saturday night before bowing, 96-68, to the Americans, who fell 40 points short of the original Dream Team’s 68-point victory in its Olympic opener.

This was a distinct disappointment.

“Our goal is to live up to the standard set in ‘92,” said David Robinson, “and grow to the point where we exceed that standard.”

Or it wasn’t a disappointment at all.

“There’s never going to be another Dream Team I,” Charles Barkley told reporters. “You guys better get over it.”

At Barcelona, Dream Team I went to glory but never drew a crowd larger than 15,000, which was all the basketball arena in suburban Badalona held. However, for obvious reasons--$$$$--the organizers here have moved Dream Team games into more spacious and higher-grossing surroundings.

Appropriately enough for these traffic-swollen, problem-filled “Bubba Games,” nothing went smoothly. There were glitches galore, at the site and on the Dream Team.

The American team showed up without the trinkets the players exchange with opponents before the game. Instead, the players gave out hearty handshakes--Shaquille O’Neal bear-hugged his Argentine--and promises of T-shirts.

Half the lights went out in the first half--yes, this was literally the night the lights went out in Georgia--interrupting play for 15 minutes.

The Americans turned the ball over in four of their first six possessions, setting the tone for the night. They were going to parade their star-spangled bodies in front of the opposition and wait for it to flee into the night.

What happens if the opponent doesn’t flee?

The Argentines, second-place finishers in the American zone and considered nobodies in this competition in which they’re not expected to make the medal round, didn’t seem troubled by their plight.

As they took the floor before the game--to silence from the huge crowd in the mammoth stadium--point guard Marcelo Milanesio laughed and waved. The Dream Team came out moments later, to thunderous applause and the popping of so many flash bulbs it looked like a strobe light show at a ‘60s rock concert.

Led by a hot-shooting guard named Juan Espil, who finished with a game-high 27 points, the Argentines won the opening tip, scored the game’s first basket and had leads of 4-2, 13-10 and 15-12.

“We talked about this,” Coach Lenny Wilkens said. “We said it over and over: The gap is narrowing. When players are playing against you and practicing against you, they’re not in awe of you any more.

“In ‘92, I think everybody was in awe of our players. What I told the players, what we have to do, we have to come out and make things happen. We can’t just show up.”

Argentina was leading, 15-14, when the lights went out. The game resumed 15 minutes later under the harsh glare from the football lights atop the rim of the stadium; the basketball lights didn’t come back on for another 15 minutes.

Alertly, organizers passed out a news release from Stuart Ashe, venue manager, basketball:

“An engineer inadvertently hit the wrong switch and knocked out power service. . . . We were prepared for something like this to happen and the situation is under control.”

The Dream Team was in control, too, even if the Argentines cut a 12-point lead to 46-44 at the end of the half, even if they hung around much of the second half.

Of course, Dream Teams, be they I, II or III, are expected to do more than wear opponents down and ease away from them, but put it down to opening night, or overconfidence, or the Bubba Games.

“There was a foul-up on somebody’s part,” Wilkens said of the missing T-shirts. “We’ll make sure they get them. But these things happen.

“I’ve been in Atlanta three years [he coaches the Hawks in his day job] and my name is spelled W-I-L-K-E-N-S.”

He held up a sign in front of him in the interview room, spelling it W-I-L-K-I-N-S, the perfect ending to an imperfect night.