It was a weekend brimming with promise.
The Pistons were set to host the Bad Boys reunion on Friday night. Perhaps the presence of such heroic figures in the building would spur the struggling Stones to a surprise victory over the two-time defending champion Miami Heat.
Not to worry if they didn’t, though. The schedule dictated that the following day the Pistons travel to Philadelphia to pick up a guaranteed win. They were playing the 76ers, after all, a team riding the lowest of lows, entering the game saddled with an almost unfathomable 26-game losing streak.
Sunday would be our Michigan dessert. Two Elite Eight matchups, one Spartan and one Wolverine.
Each of our hometown clubs would come in as the higher seed and be expected to earn a trip to next weekend’s Final Four in Dallas.
The world was our oyster, and instead we wound up with bad tuna fish.
It was a weekend to remember, for all the wrong reasons.
Slow Out Of The Gate
Things seemed perfectly fine when the Pistons and Heat commenced their battle on Friday. Eight minutes in, the Detroiters trailed by just one and Josh Smith had tallied an early seven points. It appeared they were trying to put on a little bit of a show for Lamb, Buddha, and the other former legends in attendance.
That faerie tale didn’t last very long, however.
After a quarter, Miami had bumped their lead to five.
At halftime, it jumped to 15.
After three, it ballooned to 32.
And that would be the final deficit. Heat 110, Pistons 78.
LeBron James registered a triple-double in just 30 minutes of court time.
J-Smoove took those seven early points and called it a night, finishing with nine.
Brandon Jennings made a whopping two baskets, careful not to look too interested in the game’s outcome at any point. Heaven forbid.
The only saving grace was that the Pistons were set to take on what has arguably been the NBA’s worst team in league history the very next night.
Rock Bottom
Most expected the game with Philadelphia to be a blowout. In the Pistons favor, of course. Everybody annihilates the 76ers.
They had just been to Houston and lost by 22. Ditto for the game prior in San Antonio. Not only did they never win, it was almost never competitive.
They didn’t win a single game in the month of February. They’d dropped all 14 in March. Just two more L’s and it would be another winless page flip on the ultra-depressing 2014 calendar.
But it never got that far.
The Pistons invaded the city of Brotherly Love and were absolutely steamrolled by the absolute worst the league has to offer.
This was the Miami debacle from 24 hours earlier, multiplied by a billion.
In the Sixers’ last 15 games, they’d eclipsed 100 points just twice. Most of their outings finish with some nondescript total like 91 or 86.
On this night, they would post an eye-popping one-hundred and twenty-three points. Typically, such a total is written using only numerals. But when it is done in such stunning fashion, only spelling the numbers out in full does it true justice.
Brandon Jennings somehow trumped his joyless effort from the night prior. He started the game, jacked up a quick five shots (making one), and was ejected for incessant arguing before the opening quarter could be played to completion. The man makes Josh Smith look like the consummate professional.
When the last of the confetti rained on the Philly floor, the 76ers had busted their streak with a 25-point thrashing of the pulseless Pistons.
To the logical mind, it would seem entirely impossible for a team carrying a 26-game skid to then defeat another team by 25 points.
But we have learned one valuable lesson over these last half-dozen years of putrid Motor City hoops.
Just when you think the Pistons have reached rock bottom, they manage to sink a little deeper into the hole.
Never count this bunch out -- they are capable of anything.
No matter how embarrassing or unlikely it might seem.
Sunday Was No Fun-Day
Schedules were cleared all across Michigan.
This day was not for cleaning out the garage or going for a run or engaging in quiet conversation beside a quiet fire.
It was for basketball. Two national spotlight games, both including teams from our great state, each coming with the ultimate reward: the Final Four.
Tom Izzo’s Spartans were up first. Only nobody told them of that fact.
The game started and Michigan State promptly fell asleep.
Eight minutes melted off the clock; the Green and White had amassed a total of two points.
It’s like that scene from Willy Wonka when the teacher expresses disbelief and outright irritation when Charlie tells him he has opened all of two Wonka Bars.
“Two, what do you mean you only opened two?? I can’t figure out just two!!”
Eventually the Spartans moved off that number and began lighting up the scoreboard with more regularity.
They carved out a small halftime lead and raced to a nine-point advantage early in the second half. Just 16 minutes of mistake-free ball and Izzo’s crew would be dancing to Houston.
But then the Wonka Curse returned. Just two points in another stomach-turning seven-minute stretch.
They would never recover.
The year-long fear that this could become a two-man team reared its head at the worst possible time.
Gary Harris and Adreian Payne searched long and hard for that third or fourth scorer. On this day such a figure would not emerge.
Branden Dawson lacked his usual bounce, Travis Trice could not buy a bucket, and Denzel Valentine valued the ball with the maturity of a second-grader.
You got the feeling that Harris, the best player on the floor for the Spartans on this and most every day, could have been more assertive. He is not one to force the action or search in vain for a shot attempt, but on this day, it would have served the team well.
He shot 8-of-14, but he probably should have launched the pill another eight or ten times. Shabazz Napier struggled for large parts of the contest, but kept throwing himself into the lane and heaving from deep. Eventually he started drawing fouls, some of which were questionable, but all of which were earned with fearless play.
It’s not to say that Harris was the reason for the loss. It’s anything but, as a matter of fact. But as the leader of a team that had so many key parts go missing on the same afternoon, he could have and should have ratcheted up the aggressiveness even more.
Sometimes playing selfishly can be the most unselfish thing you can do.
Shot Through The Heart
The climax of the game will live on forever.
Freshman Aaron Harrison rocked the dribble, created just enough space, and splashed home a game-clinching triple to send the NBA’s 31st franchise, the Kentucky Wildcats, to yet another Final Four.
But the preceding plot and story arc were all too familiar to Wolverine followers.
Kentucky would attack the lane. They would throw up off-balance shots. The ball would bounce off the rim or hit nothing at all.
And the giants dressed in blue would go up and grab it. And slam it home.
It’s no way to lose a basketball game.
Usually at the highest level of college or professional hoops, size is a given. Every team has enough of it to prevent it from becoming the overriding theme to a game.
Michigan is the rare breed that enters each game at a decided disadvantage in this department. They are a Big Ten club masquerading as one from the Ivy League.
If ever there was a game for John Beilein to alter his approach just a bit, adapt to the conditions, play a more conventional two-bigs lineup, this was it. Kentucky is blessed with height and strength and athleticism. They cannot be kept off the boards by Caris LeVert and Glenn Robinson, no matter the determination to do so.
But Beilein is nothing if not rigid.
Now don’t mistake criticism for a lack of appreciation.
Beilein has done a sensational job in Ann Arbor. He took a dormant program and turned into a national power. But the man has certain in-game beliefs that he refuses to stray from, no matter the stakes, and they tend to burn the Wolverines at the most critical of junctures.
Take Jordan Morgan, for example. On this day there would be no more important player for Michigan.
He is their best rebounder. Best finisher inside. Best post defender. Best everything that doesn’t involve dribbling, passing, or shooting threes.
Against the sky walking Wildcats from Kentucky, his effectiveness would be a must. A win would be impossible without it. But first and foremost, he needed to be on the floor. A lot.
Enter John Beilein and his “playing not to lose” mentality.
On this day, Morgan would play just 22 minutes. 22 minutes for the most necessary player on the floor. In the previous two games against Texas and Tennessee, he logged an average of 33.5.
Keep in mind you are permitted five fouls in the college game. Morgan finished with three. It’s not as if the guy was ever in mortal danger of being disqualified.
And, to be honest, even if he was, you still play him. You’re gonna go down, you go down with your best on the floor.
Beilein likes to “buy time” and survive little stretches. In the big games, you don’t win by way of survival. You win by actually going out and taking the game by the throat.
In last year’s title game, Louisville pounded the “one big man at all times” Wolverines to the tune of 15 offensive boards. Trey Burke, the maize and blue protagonist, would log just 26 minutes.
Yesterday was a mirror image.
Kentucky collected 17 on the offensive glass. Michigan’s key figure (Morgan) played a little more than half the game.
Little bounces will take place in every game that can contribute to a win or loss. Nothing is guaranteed.
But the very best coaches do their best not to enter the contest with a built-in handicap.
Michigan ultimately lost on a well-defended jumper from well beyond the arc.
But the game might have been decided 25 years ago when John Beilein decided he would never use two tall men at the same time, and that he would willingly let a do-or-die game play out with his most important asset sitting on a chair.
