Sitting tight - 1997 NBA Finals

There never was enough time to really savor what had accomplished. Maybe that's because, deep inside, they knew they still had not accomplished what they had set out to do. They know that even more so now.

Yes, there was the initial jubilation after John Stockton's 3-pointer against the Rockets, and then there was that crazy crowd that met the plane at the airport in Salt Lake City after 3 a.m. The jazz had done something, if not the thing. It was an achievement reaching the NBA Finals for the first time in the history of a franchise that, lest we forget, traded away a 1979 draft pick that turned out to be Magic Johnson, nearly merged with Denver in 1982, had as its most visible persona an overweight Irish Catholic man from New York City in a state populated mostly by Mormons (a much lighter Frank Layden remains team president), and stood on the brink of financial ruin only a decade ago.

Now, prosperous and productive, the Jazz finally escaped from the annual and unpredictable maelstrom that characterizes the Western Conference playoffs to find the Bulls waiting for them. That' s like going from the frying pan into the inferno.

If Game 1 is any indication, it will, indeed, be a firestorm. Utah did everything but win, falling at the buzzer when Michael Jordan drained an 18-foot jumper to take the game, 84-82. Have we seen that before? It was an in-your-face statement, especially coming when it did, 9.2 seconds after Karl Malone missed two free-throw attempts with the score tied at 82. On this night, Jordan was the MVP.

The Jazz were neither fazed nor awed by their first appearance in the Finals. What else was there to expect? This is a team of veterans who, though they have never been this far before, have learned through the years what it takes. If s not the '69 Mets or the '67 Red Sox. This is a team that broke through after appearing in the Western Conference Finals three previous times, including last year.

The Jazz had beaten two pretty good teams to get this far, dispatching the Lakers in five games and grinding out a six-game triumph over the more celebrated Rockets. No team in Utah/New Orleans history had ever come this far. Even this team was considered a long shot to do it, its stars getting older, its clock ticking, ticking, ticking. Its playoff resume included several entries where the conference finals represented the last stop. But this year's team did what its forebears could not and thus was offered up as the Bulls' obligatory victim.

From a historical perspective, this is supposed to be a mismatch. Chicago has the rings, four of them since 1991. Utah is ringless. The Bulls have the cachet, with Michael Jordan. They are used to the commotion, whether it's Jordan's golf outings or the future of the coach, the star and almost everyone else. They have the endorsement of Heat coach Pat Riley, who says flatly, "There is no one out there who can beat them."

Utah, by comparison, is the basketball equivalent of an Al Gore/Dick Gephardt Comedy Festival. Way, way out there. The Jazz are convinced it is time to end Jordan's perfect Finals record and, in so doing, provide hope and inspiration for 27 other teams.

They almost took a giant step toward that goal in Game 1. Over the course of the game, the Bulls never led by more than three. The Jazz controlled the score, the tempo, the pace and appeared poised to upset the defending world champions and gain control of the series. They simply ran into the same problem that every other team has faced: how to deal with the one-two punch of Jordan and Scottie Pippen. When it came down to the final possession, Jordan, incredibly, was not double-teamed and broke down Bryon Russell off the dribble to hit the jumper.

We tried to play him as straight up as we could. Probably, we made a mistake," coach Jerry Sloan concedes. The Jazz rarely double-teamed all game, except running late at Jordan after he had put the ball on the floor.

"It's not as easy as just doubling," John Stockton says. The Bulls had their five best shooters on the floor for the final 7.5 seconds, so any double-team would have left someone else, say Steve Kerr or Jud Buechler, wide open. But if you're Utah, who do you want taking the last shot? Jordan or someone else?

"Michael got the ball, Michael made the shot. It's hard to argue with that," Karl Malone says.

Sure play has a lot of options," Jordan says. Then he smiles.

Sure, Mike.

This promises to be a series of easily recognizable matchups. The Jazz dare you to defend the pick-and-roll, run to Swiss-watch precision by Stockton and Malone. The two have been teammates for 12 years, longer than any duo in league history other than Kevin McHale and Robert Parish, who were together for 13. Rey have never played for any other team (unlike Parish, now with his third) and probably never will. They go almost by one name and when people in Salt Lake City are asked about the pair, there's only one response: the pick-and-roll boys.

It was that very play that ended the Rockets' playoff run, as Stockton came off a Malone pick and drilled his series-ending shot. Utah never panics. Never. Long ago, the Jazz became the first NBA team to average fewer than 80 shots a game and now almost everyone does. The Jazz have their plan, they stick to it, and, generally, it works.

Malone is the ideal Career Jazz Guy. At one point in his career, he was knocking on management's door every season, asking for an extension or seeking to renegotiate his already rewritten contract. He wondered if he would ever get his just due playing in the shadows of the Wasatch Mountains for a team with an ill-conceived nickname in one of the league's smallest markets.

But he has mellowed. He put together a tremendous season, outpolled Jordan for the MVP and then got his team to the Finals. Now, he goes against the multicolored Dennis Rodman, a player who gives Chicago its only real physical presence. It comes at a cost, both for Rodman and the team. But he may be the only one on the Bulls capable of giving Malone a problem.

Rodman will try to do what he did last year to any available Sonic and what he did this year to Alonzo Mourning, Gheorghe Muresan, Dikembe Mutombo and anyone else who he felt might be a target. Rodman is like the fingernail across the blackboard, and Malone promises not to let the Worm's antics bother him or in any way distract him from his task.

"I know what he's going to do," Malone says. "I have to ignore it and go about my business."

"Karl knows that he can't get into a rasslin' match," forward Antoine Carr says. He didn't in Game 1. He also didn't hit those two free throws at the end. But he did outrebound Rodman, 15-12, and he bounced back from a 1-for-8 start from the field to finish with 23 points. If Malone can get Rodman to implode, Bulls coach Phil Jackson has the option of going to Brian Williams or Jason Caffey.

Freeing Malone from Rodman's maniacal clutches is a Jazz priority, and Utah is famous for using its guards, Stockton and Jeff Hornacek, to set cross picks against bigger players.The Rockets whined about such picks after losing the first two games in Utah, saying the guards either move while making the pick or perform what Celtic, coach Tom Heinsohn used to call it a "move from the Stanislavsky School of acting."

What the pick does, however, is allow Malone to leave his man and, usually, be picked up by a guard. Presto' Matchup problem. Although asking any guard to make the switch is a lot, the Bulls, in the 6-6 Jordan and the 6-6 Ron Harper, have two tall, tenacious defenders. Stockton, meanwhile, has his hands full trying to work his magic against Harper, who did a wonderful job against the Heat's Tim Hardaway, and against Jordan, who is, as we recall, generally up for a challenge. Neither will conjure memories of Matt Maloney. (There was no one happier than Stockton when Seattle got eliminated, because Gary Payton gives him fits.)

However, Jordan admits defending the pick-and-roll is not one of the Bulls' strengths and that they will have to be ever vigilant to stop what he calls "their bread-and-butter play. That's one of our weak points and somehow we have to find a cure for that."

Maybe Michael is nitpicking. Or trying to gain an edge. Or drive home a point. But the Jazz again worked their favorite play throughout the opener; Stockton had 12 assists to go along with 16 points. Malone, too, passed out of the post.

There is some suspicion the Bulls have not been nearly as impressive this year as they were last year in rolling through the playoffs. One thought is that there was no real, spirited challenge in the first three rounds, and that is precisely why the Bulls looked so, well, un-Chicago-like heading into the Finals.

Look at their procession. They defeated Washington, stopping their yawning long enough to finish off the Bullets in three. They then played Atlanta in the conference semifinal and had the temerity to lose at home. Looking suddenly vulnerable, they then went out and swept the Hawks in the Omni and closed them out in five games. Then, instead of the dreaded, hated Knicks, the Bulls instead got the Heat, whom they also don't like. But there was no feeling to that series, no real emotional tug, possibly because no one thought the Bulls were ever in any danger of losing. And, of course, they weren't. Was there ever any doubt they would make it out of the East with that lineup of opponents? They knew the answer.

There were a couple warning signs along the way. Pippen was supposed to be hurt but he ended up starting and playing 43 minutes in the opener, scoring 27 points and pulling down nine boards. The games were too close, too close for the comfort zone that the Bulls had long ago established. Miami had a chance to win either of the first two games. And then there were the Jazz, who fell they let a big opportunity slip away. The Jazz shot 46 percent to the Bulls' 45, had a 50-42 rebounding advantage and still couldn't pull it off.

"Against a team like this," Stockton says, "you have to take advantage of the chances when you get them because you don't get many. We definitely feel like we let one get away."

Then, there are the Bulls' ongoing offensive woes. Their production has dipped with each series and their 84 points in the Finals opener didn't end that drought. "We like the outcome," coach Phil Jackson said. "We don't like the score, but it's who's ahead at the end that counts. These were two teams feeling each other out, the first round of a seven-round battle."

So were the Bulls, experienced veterans that they are, simply pacing themselves for what they knew would be the most difficult series of all, whether it was the Rockets or the Jazz?

If that were the case, it was perfectly understandable. Utah's resilience is a given, and the Jazz will need all of it to forget the first one. When you lead for 80 percent of the game and then lose it the way they did, it can be utterly demoralizing. The team that has won the opener of a seven-game series has gone on to win the series 80 percent of the time. And to have stolen a game in the United Center, with the middle three games being in Utah, would have been an enormous coup.

We can't hang our heads," Malone said. "Everybody is going to say it's because they've been here a lot and we haven't. That's not the case."

Utah was deemed to be a worthy foe and showed it. Rockets coach Rudy Tomjanovich, who knows a few things about winning championships, saluted the Jazz and pronounced them as legitimate contenders. The one unknown for the Jazz entering Game 1 was how their fringe players would do under the glare of the NBA Finals. Utah advanced in large part because of Russell and its reserves, getting timely if unspectacular play from the likes of Howard Eisley, Greg Foster and Carr. Playing in the Finals, and against a team with such a dominating defense as Chicago's, is quite another story, however.

After the opener, there was little to complain about. Eisley had nine points in 10 minutes. Russell made only two field goals, but he had six rebounds and two steals. Foster had six points. There were very few things not to like about the Jazz's play.

Chicago dodged one. That was the prevailing view . Maybe it would wake up the Bulls or maybe it was the way it was destined to be, every game a tractor pull going down to the wire.

At least the Jazz went into Game 2 expecting their biggest fan to be in the stands. Owner Larry Miller wasn't around for the opener, and it had nothing to do with superstition or fear of flying. His Mormon religion prohibits him from working on Sundays and, in Miller's mind, simply going to a Jazz game, or even watching it on television, is tantamount to work. So he stayed home with his family and, occasionally, turned on the radio to get updates. What he heard throughout the evening had to be encouraging. If he stuck around to the end, he could not have been all that surprised. Jordan has, after all, done this sort of thing before.

Miller also will stay away from the Delta Center this Sunday and, if there is a Game 7 (also a Sunday game), he will not be in Chicago for it. Utah rarely plays at home on Sundays; its last such venture resulted in a February loss to the Sonics, the last time the Jazz lost in the Delta Center. The owner will gladly miss the final game if the outcome is different from the first.

COPYRIGHT 1997 Sporting News Publishing Co.
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