The Golden Age of Basketball-Chapter 484 - 101: Overall Runner-Up

With the Boston Celtics and Los Angeles Lakers both eliminated from the Eastern and Western Conference Finals, the NBA entered a brand-new era.

For the second consecutive year, the Portland Trail Blazers made it to the Finals, striving for their first championship defense in 17 years.

The Detroit Pistons, after sweeping reforms, unexpectedly crashed into the Finals during a season full of changes and uncertainties.

Since 1980, the Eastern Conference finally had a third team besides the Celtics and the 76ers making it into the Finals.

The Eastern Conference had been dominated by a "duo" for seven seasons, and the arrival of new faces filled people with anticipation for this round of the Finals.

The Detroit Pistons were undoubtedly very excited. They had toppled the Bostonians’ reign, reaching heights they had never before attained.

To say that the Pistons had undergone a complete transformation this season was no exaggeration. Adrian Dantley’s summer trade propelled them to the top ranks of the Eastern Conference.

Dantley filled the Pistons’ offensive gaps and, on the defensive end, helped slow down the pace, injecting the team with a much-needed style.

Before the trade deadline, they acquired James Donaldson, a trade considered to be outright robbery, which terrifyingly increased the Pistons’ depth in the frontcourt.

James Donaldson was clearly acquired with Gan Guoyang in mind, and incidentally, they wore down the Celtics’ frontcourt trio in the Eastern Finals.

Melvin Turpin, Donaldson, and Lan Bi’er formed a tower of tall players that reduced Kevin McHale, already suffering from foot injuries, to an average of 17 points per game in the series.

Robert Parish became irritable amid the relentless collisions, squeezing, and physical confrontations. After Lan Bi’er’s brutal foul on Bird in Game 4, Parish returned to Boston for Game 5 and unleashed a ferocious hammer on Lan Bi’er to vent his frustrations.

However, the Detroiters took the victory in Boston, and from that moment on, the balance of victory tilted towards them in the series.

Although the Celtics, relying on Larry Bird’s clutch shooting, bravely tied the overall score in Game 6 at the Silverdome, the series was pushed to a Game 7.

But the Celtics had already used up their last bit of energy, worn out by the long regular season, the brutal playoffs, too short a rotation, and a heavy toll from injuries.

The Pistons won the seventh game in Boston, and it was a big win. Afterward, the entire Pistons team boarded their charter plane to leave Boston and headed back to Detroit to prepare for Portland.

The Pistons were the first team in the entire League to have their own plane. In February, owner Davidson spent 500,000 US Dollars to buy a DC-9 aircraft to shuttle the players between different cities.

The experience of flying on a charter compared to a commercial flight was starkly different. The plane had four sofas and 25 spacious swivel chairs, allowing the tall players to no longer have to crouch in business or even economy class, and they didn’t have to wake up early to catch the earliest flight in case of being late for a game.

The charter served them exclusively, ready to depart at any time, providing quiet, quality service during the trip, without being harassed by insurance salespeople.

The coaching staff could discuss tactics loudly and freely, summarizing the game experience without worrying about disturbing ordinary passengers.

Bill Laimbeer had a long table on the charter where he could sit, relaxed, reading a book or browsing through newspapers.

Isiah Thomas, whenever he thought of last season’s nightmare trip to the West Coast, felt an impulse to retire right there and then. It was too exhausting, too tormenting.

Now, they were the first to break free from the grueling away travel schedule, able to enjoy the charter service without the distraction of miscellaneous matters, and able to focus solely on preparing for the game.

Other players in the League did not have this luxury, as most teams were still tight on funds, with maintaining daily expenses and player salaries already being significant expenditures.

Not only was purchasing a plane expensive, but its use was where the major costs lay, including airfield rental, fuel consumption, and the salaries for the crew; only the extremely wealthy owners could afford such extensive costs.

However, the Pistons had set a precedent for the entire League. With more and more wealthy shark-like owners like Davidson emerging, the NBA teams’ income increased, and teams would have sufficient funds to support the expenses of a charter plane, ensuring players could maintain good condition during the long season’s travels.

The NBA playoffs this year were hardly affected by the Suns drug scandal, and they enjoyed high viewership and media attention across the US, with more and more people tuning in to watch NBA games.

Although many fans regretted that Magic Johnson and Larry Bird would not meet in the finals again, the excitement of anticipating the Trail Blazers taking on the Pistons, and Gan Guoyang heading to the Silverdome to wreak havoc, kept fans and the media quite thrilled.

As June arrived, the Portland Memorial Coliseum stood ready, awaiting the arrival of the Detroit Pistons.

The Detroit Pistons, making their first appearance on the NBA Finals stage, were full of confidence and vigor.

Prior to the game, the Oregon media hyped up Gan Guoyang’s body slamming and punching of Bill Laimbeer, putting pressure on the Pistons.

However, from media interviews, it was apparent that Laimbeer, that blockhead, couldn’t care less, and nothing that had happened before could negatively impact his mentality.

Getting hit, being slammed, conceding 50 points—in Laimbeer’s view, these were all just part of the basketball game process. As long as he could reach the championship shore one day, none of it mattered.

He was neither Rambis nor Pat Riley. He had fought his way up from the NBA’s bottom ranks, relying on his thick skin and excellent psychological qualities to get where he was today.

If he had held even the slightest moral burden on the court, he couldn’t have helped the Pistons reach the finals, nor could he be so universally despised yet still take pleasure in it.

As for going head-to-head against Ah Gan, Laimbeer was actually quite excited. During the pre-game practice, he seemed as if he was on a high, blustering about how he was going to teach Ah Gan a lesson in the finals.

Isiah Thomas said, "Teach him a lesson? Do you mean using your head to ram into Ah Gan’s elbow, so he can see some red blood flowing?"

Laimbeer made a three-pointer and said, "Of course not! I will torment him, lock him down, get him into foul trouble, make him complain painfully to the referees, and in the end, watch him leave the court in disappointment as all of Portland falls silent—wow! Just thinking about it makes me happy."

Bobby Beelman was right; Laimbeer and Gan Guoyang were essentially the same kind of person, taking pleasure in tormenting their opponents and seeing others in pain.

Simply winning didn’t bring them much happiness; it was seeing their opponents lose and suffer that truly satisfied their spirits.

Thomas said, "Don’t think too much. We need to play one game at a time. You’re getting a little too excited, Bill."

Laimbeer responded, "Of course I’m thinking about it. While the game hasn’t started yet, fantasizing is a time of innocent joy!"

Laimbeer possessed that positive mentality; he knew the world doubted the Pistons, especially after witnessing the Trail Blazers’ dominant display in the Western Conference Finals.

In past matchups, Gan Guoyang had dominated the Pistons’ frontcourt, with Laimbeer both taking a beating and being scored on, powerless to respond.

But it was precisely for this reason that Laimbeer felt optimistic. Before the game, he indulged in imagining the joy of victory, because the worst-case scenario was just another beating by Ah Gan, which wasn’t something he hadn’t experienced before.

At 7 p.m. Pacific Time on June 2nd, 1987, the finals tipped off at the Memorial Coliseum.

Next door, at the Paramount Theatre, which usually hosted concerts, they had set up a giant screen and connected to CBS’s live broadcast, allowing more than 2,000 fans who couldn’t get tickets to the game to gather and watch the finals.

The Pistons players, clad in blue jerseys, stood at center court, and the once-excited Laimbeer now had a serious expression and even a hint of caution.

Standing opposite him was Gan Guoyang, who swept his cold gaze across each of the Pistons’ starters—Thomas, Dumars, Laimbeer, James Donaldson, Dantley.

"Are you guys ready to celebrate becoming the runner-up?" Gan Guoyang said. "Being the runner-up is an honor, guys. Cheer up."

No one on the Pistons was cheerful; they all had ashen faces, and not a soul dared to talk back.

Thomas glanced at Laimbeer, thinking to himself, weren’t you all tough before the game? Speak up, damn it!

The Pistons had already found themselves at a disadvantage in terms of momentum right from the start.