Cheering for Losers

When it occurred to me that I liked basketball, it wasn’t because of stars like Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, or the dueling dynasties of the Lakers and Celtics. It wasn’t because of the soaring icon in the Windy City, either. At age 7, my fandom began with the Detroit Pistons, mostly because they had cool T-shirts.

The Pistons defeated the Blazers in five games to win their second straight title on June 14th, 1990. The Finals clincher was a 92-90 nailbiter. Portland had the lead much of the game, but Vinnie “The Microwave” Johnson came off Detroit’s bench and–as his name suggests– he quickly got hot. The backup guard netted every point in a crucial 9-0 scoring run in the 4th quarter, and despite smothering defense by the Blazers’ Jerome Kersey, the Microwave swished a jumper to give Detroit a two-point lead with less than a second on the clock. 

The Pistons celebrated with the Larry O’Brien Trophy. They elated in the locker room and dowsed each other with champagne. The Microwave was an unlikely hero. I toasted the champs with an A&W root beer float in my PJs, thinking I was a straight up mac daddy for putting my faith in the winning team. 

Knowing what I know now, I would have poured a second cup, scooped another ball of ice cream. I would’ve shot more balled-up socks into the round laundry basket as I counted the seconds down to one in honor of The Microwave. 

I would’ve begged my mom and dad a little more for that Bad Boys T-shirt. I wanted to rep the oversized cartoon heads and ripped muscles of Thomas, Dumars, Rodman, and Microwave in my wardrobe, and I should’ve been more vocal about that. 

The Pistons were dubbed the Bad Boys because of their bruising defense and adversarial style of play. They didn’t mind being disliked because they weren’t the Lakers, Celtics, or surging Bulls; in fact, they thrived on that dislike. The Pistons were the defiant, contrarian team. They were rude and downright hostile to the stars of the opposition. Their brand of hoops had less in common with finesse than it did with a crime scene. But they could also torch you with outside shooting. Isaiah Thomas was ahead of his time binging three-pointers in big games. If you were in a different jersey, they did whatever it took to step on your throat. 

But when you’re known for stepping on throats, that’s sure to piss people off. And some of those folks will swear revenge. In fact, the Pistons pissed off probably the most talented and driven athlete in the world. His name was Michael Jordan, and he wanted revenge.

1991– Bulls over Lakers: This is where my losing streak began. Here I got into the nasty habit of cheering against the best player on the court. Heck, I was also damn opposed to the best duon the court, more often than not. Personal taste aside, that’s no way to cheer for winners.

The Bulls swept my Bad Boys in the Eastern Conference Finals. Isaiah and the Boys were sore losers too. Instead of shaking hands with the victorious Bulls in the customary show of sportsmanship, the sullen Pistons walked back to the locker room before time expired on the clock. (It’s safe to say that Jordan took that personally.) We won’t hear from Detroit for a while. 

The Lakers took a game one thriller in Chicago to give me false hope. I wanted to see Magic Johnson win another title. Air Jordan was the most prolific scorer in the Milky Way Galaxy, but he was a bit of a ballhog. I’ve always preferred the players who show more versatility in the stats. If Jordan led all scorers with, say, 42 points, I was someone who pointed out, “Yeah, but he only had 2 assists and 4 rebounds. Magic had another triple-double.” 

My argument was that a player with an unselfish, all-around game benefits his team more than a ballhog does. This stance sounds good in theory, but in reality, Michael Jordan was much better than any of my piddling theories. He was a bit of a ballhog, but he was also the greatest player in a decade loaded with basketball talent. Both statements are true. 

Speaking of elite ’90s roundballers, small forward Scottie Pippen was a 7-time All-Star, 10-time selection to the All-Defensive Team, and a two-time Olympic gold medalist. The Hall of Famer would’ve been the alpha on most NBA squads. On the Bulls, he was an astonishing sidekick to Jordan. 

So, what happened after the Lake Show topped Chicago 93-91 in game 1 of the Finals? Well, the Bulls won 4 in a row to clinch it. Jordan was the leading scorer in games 2, 3 and 4, then Pippen scored 32 points to Jordan’s 30 in game 5 to stick a dagger in the heart of the Showtime dynasty. There was no Hollywood ending for James Worthy, “Big Smooth” Sam Perkins, “Lord” Byron Scott, and Magic. 

As for the Bulls, they were just getting started. And so was my losing streak.

1992– Bulls over Blazers: The Blazers returned to the Finals, and this time, I was on their side. Clyde “The Glide” Drexler and Terry Porter composed my favorite backcourt tandem, and Buck Williams was out there wrecking rims in cool, big-ass goggles. Portland finished with a record of 57-25. The problem was, MJ and Pippen were solidly in their prime. Actually, there was more than one problem. Jordan had arguably his strongest season. The Bulls finished with a superior 67-15 record. Plus, Chicago had complementary players like power forward Horace Grant and guards BJ Armstrong and John Paxson.

I watched one of these games at my friend Willy’s house. We cheered for Portland. A year or 2 later, NBA Jam was released on home consoles and our go-to duo was Clyde the Glide and Terry P. Michael Jordan wasn’t in NBA Jam. His name and likeness were so valuable that he opted out of the Players Association’s licensing deal. Gaming companies like Midway and Acclaim had to negotiate with him personally, and Jordan’s price was too steep. Including Jordan in NBA Jam would’ve been so expensive that the popular game would’ve struggled to make a profit. 

He was absent from NBA Jam, but MJ sure as hell made an appearance in game 1 of the ‘92 Finals. The man drilled six 3-pointers in the first half, gave TV nation a photogenic shrug in celebration, and led the Bulls in scoring en route to a blowout win. Portland at least made it interesting with wins in games 2 and 4, but Chicago was a machine. The Bulls repeated as champions as I sulked in back-to-back fashion. 

1993– Bulls over Suns: When Charles Barkley got traded to Phoenix in the summer of ’92, I put my faith in the Suns as the team that would put an end to the Bulls’ title reign. I was sick of Air Jordan and Pip winning everything. Have I mentioned that Phil Jackson was their coach? I wasn’t a fan of Coach Phil, either. They all seemed too perfect and ultra-confident to be real. As the losing streak shows, I suppose, I’ve always been more drawn to flaws. 

Sir Charles was a malcontent in Philadelphia, and finally the 76ers traded the All-Star forward to a Suns squad that had a sick backcourt of Kevin Johnson and “Thunder” Dan Majerle. The Suns went scorched Earth on the Western Conference. They won 14 straight games in December. On my 10th birthday in March, a friend gave me a Barkley jersey after we had pizza at Shakey’s. When the playoffs arrived in early May, the Suns had finished with a 62-20 record. They had the NBA’s best record, in fact—even better than the Bulls’ mark of 57-25. Did I mention Cedric Ceballos was pretty cool too? Dude could jump out of the gym.

Anyway, Chicago still had its stellar core of Air Jordan, Pip, Horace and BJ. But 57 wins was slightly underwhelming by their high standards, and the public was finding out that MJ had a serious gambling problem. Barkley was named the league MVP, averaging 25.6 points, 12 rebounds and 5 assists a game. The Suns had a deep bench with capable white guys Tom Chambers and Danny Ainge. I liked my chances of cheering for a winner this time. 

Only, you guessed it, the Suns fell to the Bulls in 6 games. Air Jordan earned Finals MVP. He boasted 41 points per game to go along with 8.5 boards and—as if he took offense to me calling his game selfish–he actually passed the ball with an average of 6.3 assists. 

With this latest triumph, the Bulls won the title—in the words of Manager Monty Burns—not once, not twice, but thrice. MJ had as many rings as his frenemy Larry Bird, and one more ring than his nemesis Isaiah Thomas. The Bulls had surpassed the mere repeat of the Pistons that preceded them with a threepeat. 

All of these achievements are legit, but kid me still could have sniped at Air Jordan by referencing The Simpsons again: “Oh yeah, MJ? Well, youuuu have a gambling problem!” 

1994– Rockets over Knicks: They were the unquestioned rulers of the NBA, but storm clouds were forming around Chicago, and Jordan was the main reason. His greatness notwithstanding, we began to see signs of a rich, powerful, famous, charming man overdoing it. To be kind, MJ was burning the candle at both ends, under a lot of pressure to perform. He just needed a mental health break in an era where men rarely put it in those words. To be critical, he was a gambling addict, running up debts, drama, and distractions. 

 Tragedy was a factor too. Jordan’s father James was gunned down in a carjacking on July 23rd, 1993, just a month after seeing his son win a third title. It was a senseless, heinous act of violence. An embattled MJ announced his retirement from basketball in October, citing a lack of desire and the realization that he had done it all. Then, in a strange glitch in the matrix that we’ve all sort of accepted, he pursued a career in baseball but never made it to the Majors. If I’m being sarcastic, this is the last we’ll hear from Michael Jordan in this story. 

The day Jordan retired, I was thrilled. I shot hoops in the Olig family driveway on a sunny late afternoon in the fall, daydreaming about watching a Knicks/ Suns Finals. I’d be happy to see either team win it all. 

Fast forward several months, and my preseason prediction turned out to be half–right. The Knicks were tired of being a punching bag for the Bulls, and with the biggest bully on the block busy batting .203 for the Birmingham freaking Barons, Patrick Ewing and the crew finally got a measure of revenge by eliminating the Jordanless Bulls in the postseason. 

That’s enough MJ mentions. We need to talk about a new character who fostered my losing streak. Hakeem Olajuwon was the leader of the Houston Rockets. Nicknamed the Dream, Olajuwon was a dominant center who was named the league MVP in 1994. The Nigerian-born Dream was powerful but quick, fundamentally sound, a virtuoso on offense and defense, and by all accounts, a humble star of Muslim faith. He was hard to dislike, but somehow I found a way. 

The Knicks were my team in the East because Ewing and Starks was my go-to NBA Jam duo when I played alone. Plus, their uniforms were blue, my favorite color—and you can’t spell “Knickerbockers” without my name. The Rockets stood in the way of ending my losing streak at 3. 

The series went the full 7 games, but that was overshadowed by the breaking news that kept interrupting game 5. Hall of Fame running back turned broadcaster/ Nordberg in The Naked Gun/ all-around rascal OJ Simpson. The Juice was being charged for the murder of his ex-wife and her friend, and with his former teammate Al Cowlings behind the wheel of a white Ford Bronco, OJ fled from the law. We’d see Robert Horry chase down a fast-breaking Anthony Mason and foul him hard to send him to the line, followed by an update from anchor Tom Brokaw. 

“Reports abound that OJ now has a gun pressed to his own head, and he’s telling police he wants to see his mother.” 

It was a stranger-than-fiction fever dream. The Knicks prevailed in game 5, but went on to drop the next 2. The Knicks have never won the title in my lifetime and at some point in time I changed my fandom to the Milwaukee Bucks. The Rockets lifted the Larry O’Brien Trophy as my bad mojo outlasted the Bulls’ threepeat.

 

1995- Rockets over Magic: The Rockets returned to the Finals, so let me tell you about Houston’s supporting cast around Olajuwon. They had a solid backcourt of Vernon “Mad Max” Maxwell and Kenny “The Jet” Smith; both were capable three-point shooters. Forward Robert Horry would chip in with about 10 points a game, and they had depth with guards like upstart Sam Cassell and veteran Mario Elie.

Midway through the season, Houston traded for Clyde Drexler, whom you may recall from the ’92 Finals. Surprisingly, the team failed to hit its stride despite the production of The Dream and The Glide. They made the playoffs as the 6th seed. In the postseason, though, they reignited. Houston upset Utah, Phoenix and San Antonio to win the West. In the Finals, they met the Orlando Magic. 

Shaquile O’Neal was a phenom. At 23, in just his third season, he averaged almost 30 points a game and took second in MVP voting. Shaq was also a charismatic showman who rapped and appeared in movies, commercials, and his own outlandish fighting fame called Shaq Fu. 

Shaq was joined by fellow 23-year-old dynamo Anferne “Penny” Hardaway. Penny was named to the All-NBA team in his second season. Before Shaq with Kobe in LA, his partnership with Penny had the ingredients for greatness. Aided by sharpshooters Nick Anderson and Dennis “3D” Scott, the Magic had the talent to put together a dynasty. But we don’t live in that timeline. 

I share a March 6th birthday with Shaq and a first name with guard Nick Anderson. The latter gave Nicks everywhere a bad name when he shockingly missed 4 straight free throws very late in the 4th quarter. Kenny Smith drilled a 3 to send it to overtime, where the Rockets prevailed by 2 points tipped in by the Dream with less than half a second on the clock. Ouch.  

The Magic fizzled. The team didn’t overcome that meltdown. Orlando got swept. I was 0 for my last 5 as an NBA fan. 

Now, I didn’t mention this, but Michael Jordan had returned in March of 1995. He sent out a fax that read: “I’m back.” The catch was, he was a little rusty, and weirdly wearing #45 instead of #23. The Magic actually beat the Bulls in the Eastern Conference semifinals, lest you sneeze at my claim that the Magic had dynastic potential. 

In ’96, Jordan was 100% rededicated to basketball. He changed his number back to 23. Gulp.  

1996– Bulls over Sonics: The legend came back. I booed, but it didn’t matter. Let’s talk about Michael Jordan, the Bulls, their return to the top, and my bitterness.

Scottie Pippen was still in Chicago, and he hadn’t even come close to losing a step. Aside from Pip, the roster was a lot different. Still loaded, but a lot different. 

Journeyman Ron Harper found his niche with the Bulls, running point and playing stifling defense. Six-foot-ten Toni Kukoc was dubbed the Croatian Sensation. He was a big man who could shoot and pass. Kukoc was named the league’s 6th Man of the Year in ’96. Steve Kerr was a masterful outside shooter. But Chicago’s biggest add was probably the weirdo who rarely scored a bucket, the hard-partying eccentric who made a huge impact on every game despite rarely handling the basketball: Dennis Rodman. 

Nicknamed The Worm, Rodman led the league in rebounds per game 7 seasons in a row, from 1991-1998. The power forward was also an elite defender. This version of the Bulls had impeccable defense and the NBA’s #1 scoring threat. The ’96 Bulls won 72 games to just 10 losses. So, which bunch of losers did I pick to win this time? (Rechecks notes.) Why, the Seattle Supersonics, that’s who. 

Gary Payton and Shawn Kemp gave Seattle a tandem that almost rivaled MJ and Pip. Dubbed the Glove and the Reignmaker, the Sonics’ duo had the advantage of youth if not experience. Their highlight reel was unmatched, anyway. SportsCenter was packed with clips of a nifty steal by the Glove, an ankle-breaking crossover in transition, and an alley oop lob to the Reignmaker for a thunderous dunk. 

What’s more, Seattle’s supporting cast was almost on par with Chicago’s. Small forward Detlef Schrempf was a low key All-Star, guard Hersey Hawkins could shoot the lights out, and Sam “Big Smooth” Perkins was a candidate for 6th Man of the Year. The Sonics finished with a record of 64-18, a mark that was second only to the Bulls that season, and the team swept the Rockets and ousted the Jazz en route to the Finals. They had swagger, reason to believe, and everything to prove against the Bulls.

Chicago won games 1, 2, and 3. Seattle didn’t get off to a great start, middle, or near-ending. The Sonics did battle back to avoid the sweep in game 4. They continued to fight off elimination on their home court with a game 5 win. In game 6 in Chicago, though, they met the inevitable. Chicago 87, Seattle 75 to clinch it. The Bulls won their fourth title in six years, but it wasn’t like they were about to three-peat a second time… Right?  

1997- Bulls over Jazz: My temporary cheering for the Jazz was forced. At this point in the losing streak, I was all in when it came to rooting hopelessly against the un-beat-a-Bulls. Sure, I respected the pick-and-roll game of the legendary pair of John Stockton and Karl Malone. I may have even experimented with them in NBA Jam. But I didn’t match the vibes of the Jazz. I was an alternative rock kid. 

Stockton led the league in assists 8 straight seasons and I loved that about his game, but the man had the personality of a cedar scented candle. I was used to delighting in charisma—in the form of Barkley, Shaq, Penny, Glove and Reignman—before the inevitable defeat. Stockton couldn’t even dunk, bless his heart. And as for Karl Malone, the Mailman had the vibe of a surly hunter/ fisherman, best-case observation. To be unkind, he was a corny bumpkin who pretentiously said sentences like, “Karl Malone is gonna do what’s best for Karl Malone.” Then he’d mean mug the camera and spit tobacco into a Gatorade cup.

Stockton and Malone were nearing their mid-30s, and so was Utah’s third option, shooting guard Jeff Hornacek. The Jazz didn’t even have the youth advantage over the battle-tested Bulls. Chicago protected home court to go up 2-0 in the series. Utah put up a fight with 2 wins in Salt Lake City, but then the Jazz dropped a pivotal game 5 at home. MJ famously had the flu in this contest. The night before the game, it’s rumored that the pizza delivered to MJ’s hotel room had been laced to give food poisoning to the Jazz nemesis. Jordan was ravaged by vomiting, diarrhea, and a fever leading up to tipoff. The legend overcame the illness, of course, and dropped 38 points to spite the Jazz, the state of Utah, and their wicked pizza parlors. 

The Bulls prevailed in game 6 at home to win their 5th title of the decade. They treated their fans to a rowdy celebration at the United Center. I’d seen this movie before, and I was to see it once more. 

1998– Bulls over Jazz: If you like repetition with no surprises whatsoever, this NBA Finals was for you. Both rosters were 99% identical to what they were in the previous Finals. The Bulls won the series in 6 games–-again. Chicago completed their second three-peat in 8 years. My losing streak climbed to 8. Air Jordan added to his legacy with another hero moment—but he was a heel to me, never a babyface. 

That wrestling lingo leads me to a tangent about the WCW pay-per-view event Bash at the Beach ‘98. Not long after the Finals, Karl Malone of the Jazz and Dennis Rodman of the Bulls entered a wrestling storyline. In the feud, Malone teamed with babyface Diamond Dallas Page, while Dennis “Rod the Bod” aka “Rodzilla” Rodman paired with the heelish Hollywood Hulk Hogan. The feud culminated in the main event of the July pay-per-view, which saw the cheating baddies come out on top in a high-profile yet hard-to-watch 24-minute spectacle.

Even in this scripted, predetermined, cash-grabbing format, I was enough of a sucker to cheer, however lukewarmly, for the Mailman. He was paired with my favorite wrestler at the time, DDP, master of the Diamond Cutter. And Malone did the job and put the other guys over again. I wanted to see him pinned for good after a Scorpion Death Drop at that point, but Malone was not to lose his retirement match for another 6 years. 

1999– Spurs over Knicks: The landscape of the NBA was drastically different in this lockdown-shortened season. Air Jordan retired a second time. Pippen wanted out, too. He was traded to the Rockets, who paid him handsomely. The Bulls cashed out with 6 titles. A quarter–century later, you could say they’re still rebuilding. 

With a juggernaut gone, star players aging close to retirement, and other stars still too raw and unpolished, the league had found itself in a power vacuum. The ongoing labor dispute between the owners and the players union caused further consternation. When an agreement was reached in the winter, the season was reduced to 50 games and fans grew discontent. 

In this nonsensical, wide-open season in which even I had to wonder if the NBA needed Jordan to thrive, three teams tied for the best record in the East: Miami, Orlando, and Indiana. None of these 33-17 teams made it to the Finals. Orlando got bounced in the first round by Philly and their blossoming phenom Allen Iverson. One-seeded Miami was upset by the 8th seed, who went on to knock out Atlanta and Indiana en route to the Finals, because nothing made sense in the East without MJ. 

That eighth-seeded squad was a familiar sentimental-fave of mine: the New York Knicks. My man John Starks was gone, but I sure liked the backcourt of smooth-shooting Allan Houston and Heisman winner/ pass-happy point guard Charlie Ward. Larry “Grand-ma-ma” Johnson added 12 points per game at power forward, and when he was healthy, aging center Patrick Ewing was still leading the team in scoring. 

These Knicks also made a few clever moves after the lockout had been resolved. They traded for Marcus Camby–a young, athletic, lanky big man. Also notably, and more controversially, the Knicks acquired troubled but electric Latrell Sprewell from the Warriors. When I say “troubled,” that’s code for “he choked and punched his coach and got suspended for most of the 1997 season. But I was sorta partial to the Knicks, as I said, so I was open to a redemption arc that saw Spree inject new life into the Big Apple’s scoring attack.

The West was repped by San Antonio. The Spurs took a more conventional path to the Finals as the #1 seed. Already we can see a flaw in my plan to cheer for the eighth seeded team with a 27-23 record instead of the heavily favored team that went 37-13 in the regular season. The Bulls were out of the title picture, but that didn’t stop me from cheering for the underdogs.  

As for the over-dogs, San Antonio was led by a potent pair of big men—veteran All-Star David “The Admiral” Robinson and Tim “The Big Fundamental” Duncan, who had already emerged as an elite player in just his second NBA season. Both are Hall of Famers. The supporting cast featured Sean Elliott as a capable third option, well-tenured snipers and multiple ring-holders Mario Elie and Steve Kerr, and the undersized yet feisty Avery Johnson running point.  

The Spurs won the series in five games. This one was an underwhelming blur. Young Duncan was exceptional and deserving of Finals MVP honors. The Knicks let me down again as my losing skid extended to nine. This bizarre season marked a moment in time when the NBA was between dynasties. As you might have guessed, I was not a fan of the upcoming dynasty. 

If I had to find a positive at this stage of the skid, I guess I’m glad Latrell Sprewell didn’t choke anyone in the Finals. That’s a nice silver lining. Way to control yourself, man. 

2000- Lakers over Pacers: Nicknamed the Zen Master because his leadership was flavored with meditation, mindfulness and yoga, Phil Jackson left the Bulls after the Last Dance of ’98. Jackson took a year off, then landed on his feet by signing to be the Head Coach of the Los Angeles Lakers. Instead of Jordan and Pip, Jackson inherited the duo of Shaquille O’Neal and Kobe Bryant. I didn’t know this at the time, but those 4 legends would combine to win a total of 21 titles. Coach Jackson ended up with 10 rings. Safe to say, LA was set up for success. And I didn’t like it one bit. 

I smelled an emerging juggernaut, one that would be coddled by the masses, ambushed by bandwagon jumpers with loose morals, and it made my stomach turn. Heck, at the risk of further spoilers, my tummy would end up doing three full revolutions because of the damn Lakers.

Entering his 4th season in the pros, Kobe “Black Mamba” Bryant was becoming the heir apparent to Air Jordan. Comparisons to Michael abounded for the 21-year-old shooting guard. Both had maximum talent and work ethic. They were obsessively driven competitors who could explode to the rim, create their own shots and score an abundance of buckets from anywhere on the court. As for Shaq, Mr. Fu was named the league’s Most Valuable Player. He averaged a robust 29.7 points and 13.6 rebounds and 3 blocks a game. Like that team from the Windy City, Coach Phil had a foundation of 2 of the top 10 players in the league. The feeling of deja vu for me didn’t end there.

Guard Ron Harper joined his former coach in LA. Not a player with a similar game; I mean the exact same guy—Ron freaking Harper. He reunited with Zen Master to run point and play smothering defense. Harper was 36, so he split minutes with the younger Derek Fisher. Fish would go down as a good-not-great player from the supporting cast of NBA champions. Like the Bulls, the Lakers had plenty of those guys, such as Rick Fox, Robert Horry, and AC Green. 

Finally, the Lakers had Glen Rice, a legit 3-time All-Star forward who could rip three-pointers. Rice was on the wrong side of 30 and he wanted a ring. Who stood in the way of Rice and his teammates in the 2000 Finals? 

The Indiana Pacers, that’s who. Led by Reggie Miller, the most stone-cold long-distance shooter in league history until Steph Curry showed up, the Pacers finished with a 56-26 record, good for the first seed in the East. Jalen Rose balled out too; the small forward out of Michigan averaged about 18 points, 5 rebounds and 4 assists per game. Power forward Dale Davis made his sole appearance in an All-Star game, scoring and rebounding in double figures on a regular basis. Even Rik Smits wanted to give me false hope; the aging 7-foot-4 center was still good for like 13 points a night. 

I vibed with this team from Indiana more so than I did with the Utah Jazz, but less than I did with the prior season’s Knicks, who were a pretty fluky squad to make the Finals. So I was rooting for the Pacers to shock the world, but I was no longer a kid who believed in Santa Claus, pro wrestling, or anyone on the Pacers having a chance in hell of stopping Shaq. 

The Lakers won the title in six games. Shaq scored the most points in every game except for game 3, when he tied with Miller’s total of 33. Shaq “The Diesel” Fu was named the Finals MVP. I was begrudgingly somewhat happy that my birthday buddy had won a title, but I wished he had stayed in Orlando to win it alongside Penny. Accepting a golden Hummer stuffed with cash from the Lakers seemed like a sellout move to a kid who dabbled in punk rock. I had my principles, I suppose, as well as a losing streak that had reached 10.

2001- Lakers over 76ers: The Lakers returned to the Finals, obviously, and much of their roster was the same, with a few exceptions. Glen Rice was dealt to the Knicks. Coach Phil reunited with Horace Grant, another role player with three rings from their time together in Chicago. 

Those were minor changes, though. The bottom line was that Shaq and Kobe were still dominant; in fact, Kobe was notably improving. Mamba’s points per game climbed from 22.5 the year prior to 28.5 in 2001. 

LA faced Philadelphia in the Finals. The series coincided with my graduation from high school. The boy who had toasted the Pistons with a root beer float was now a man, I guess you could say. My June b-ball slide lasted a decade of my childhood. Why would I hope for success against Shaq, Mamba, and Zen Master? 

My hope was personified by Allen Iverson. Standing at six-foot-one, The Answer was brash, tough-as-nails, and defiant—just like one of the Bad Boys from my youth. Iverson was undersized, but he’d throw hands against a charging rhino. 2001 was probably the pinnacle of his Hall of Fame career. The Answer led the NBA in point per game (31.1) as well as steals, and won the MVP award in a league where 165-pounders almost never do that. 

My hope was mitigated by The Answer’s supporting cast. With names like Eric Snow and George Lynch getting a lot of minutes, Philly had perhaps the weakest roster of the losers in my losing streak. The 76ers acquired All-Star center Dikembe Mutombo at the trade deadline, but he was 35 and past his prime. He was still a very good rim protector, but Shaq was an absolute monster to guard in the Finals. 

In game 1 at the Staples Center, Shaq obliterated the Sixers frontcourt as he slammed home 44 points. Incredibly, he was outscored by Iverson, who dropped 48 points on LA. He added 6 assists, 5 steals and 5 rebounds in the winning effort. Philly stole game 1 in LA with a 107-101 stunner. 

So what happened after the Sixers went up one-oh in the series? They dropped 4 straight—duh. The Lakers hoisted the Larry O’Brien Trophy on Philly’s home court after a 108-96 loss in game 5. 

That summer, I took a moment out of my busy schedule of drinking keg beer and going on space cruises to roll my eyes at the Lakers. Led by Coach Zen “Phil Jackson” Master and 2 transcendent talents, I was nonplussed about this impending threepeat. I get the funny feeling I’ve mentioned deja vu before. 

2002- Lakers over Nets: We’re familiar with the Lakers, so let me tell you about the plucky babyfaces who replaced the Sixers as Eastern Conference champs: the New Jersey Nets. 

I liked the Nets’ alpha about as much as I did Iverson. Point guard Jason Kidd had the eclectic game that I admired. Like Magic Johnson before him, he could score, rebound, and assist—Kidd was a constant threat to notch a triple-double. He had a knack for stealing the rock as well. 

Compared to Iverson and his motley crew, Kidd had better players around him, too. Forwards Kenyon Martin and Keith Van Horn and shooting guard Kerry Kittles were in their athletic primes, scoring 14 or 15 points per game. Small forward Richard Jefferson added depth and finished second in Rookie of the Year voting. The Nets played with unselfish chemistry en route to a 52-30 record, the best record in the East. 

Did they have a prayer in the Finals against the dreaded Lake Show? Of course not. The Nets were swept. They were defenseless against Shaq, who scored 36.3 points per game to go along with 12.3 rebounds. I let out a single, soft “boo” as the Lakers completed their threepeat. Diesel O’Neal was named Finals MVP—in the words of Coach Monty Burns—not once, not twice, but thrice!  

I spoke ill about the 2001 Sixers aside from AI, but at least that team won a game against the titans of LA in the Finals. These Nets got battered by a broom-wielding Shaq without a single hope spot. 

Ladies, are you attracted to dudes who cheered for the losing team in the NBA Finals at least 12 times in a row? Then I’d like to name drop a bonafide stud muffin: Me! 

2003- Spurs over Nets- I was a bit mentally and emotionally checked out by this point in the skid, but I vaguely recall seeing the Finals preview and deciding, “Hmm, not the Spurs again.” With a shrug, and a half-hearted murmur, I said, “Go Nets, I guess.” 

I was 20 years old and had just finished my sophomore year at UW-Oshkosh. My celebrity crushes had gone from Tiffany Amber-Thiessen to Teri Hatcher to Alecia Silverstone to Elizabeth Hurley to Cameron Diaz to Kirsten Dunst. My home consoles had changed from Nintendo to Super Nintendo to Nintendo 64 to Playstation 2. I was burning daylight on my life during this skid, folks. 

The Nets roster was mostly the same. Kidd was still an elite point guard flanked by the likes of Kenyon “K-Mart” Martin, Kerry Kittles, and Richard Jefferson. Keith Van Horn was gone, but they were fine without him. Jefferson offered a younger upgrade at small forward. What the Nets needed was a low-post presence who could challenge the Spurs big men Tim Duncan and David Robinson. What they had was a committee of the halfway decent Jason Collins and an older, more injury-prone version of Dikembe Mutombo. RIP Mount Mutombo, but at 36, he wasn’t the same force on defense. 

Whereas Duncan was the reigning league MVP and in his mid-20s, Robinson was playing his farewell tour at age 37. The Admiral’s minutes and production fell, but San Antonio had a ton of talent to pick up the slack. Guards Tony Parker and Manu Ginobili were emerging stars who were just getting warmed up. Including Coach Gregg Popovich, this San Antonio squad now has five Hall of Famers. 

Bruce Bowen played suffocating defense. Malik Rose had a sneaky-good career. Stephen “Captain Jack” Jackson was good for about 12 points a game. This team was sick. They even had an aging three-point specialist named… (checks notes) Steve Kerr was still playing?! Son of a bitch!

New Jersey had a better showing than they did the previous June, winning game 2 in San Antonio by a bucket and besting the Spurs at home 77-76 in game 4. With the series tied at 2, you guessed it, the team I wanted to win dropped back-to-back games to lose the NBA Finals. 

I had gone cheering for losers 13 times in a row.  

2004- Pistons over Lakers: The streak ended! After a baker’s dozen straight unlucky defeats that could’ve happened to anyone, victory returned to the place where I last saw it: Detroit. My prolonged struggle was bookended by Pistons title winners. Go figure. 

The ghost of Jimmy Naismith finally showed me mercy. I was also gifted with an interesting storyline to complete this project. 

The Lakers had reached the summit of NBA greatness, and with that success came bloated egos. Shaq and Kobe were butting heads, as 2 alphas who strutted through the same locker room for several years may do. The pair of stars were bickering. Shaq accused Kobe of being a selfish teammate, while Kobe took shots at Shaq’s work ethic. Countless other digs went back and forth. By ‘04, not even the Zen Master could transmit healing vibes to appease the clash of egos.

LA lost supremacy in the West to San Antonio in ’03. In a daring move to return to the Finals the next season, this team bursting with talent and egos added old talent and huge egos. The Lakers signed a couple of aging legends still chasing that elusive ring: point guard Gary Payton and power forward Karl Malone. Gary Glove was 35, Mailman Malone was 40. Both were cool with riding the coattails of the younger Shaq and Kobe, but they both brought needy egos to a team chemistry that was already combustible with egos. The Lakers had followed the Bulls formula of surrounding 2 basketball unicorns with a number of good role players who damn well knew their roles… now they were deviating from that formula. 

However, this team went 56-26 in the regular season, good for the 2-seed in the West. The Lakers bested Yao Ming and the Rockets in the first round, then more impressively, they knocked out the Spurs in the conference semi-finals. Then they beat the #1 seeded Timberwolves who were led by the great Kevin Garnett. The bloated ego Lakers made it all the way to the Finals and they beat the Spurs along the way, so what the hell did I know? As I write this, Shaq, Kobe, Malone, and Payton are Hall of Famers who combined for 56 All-Star appearances. Malone and Payton were old, but they weren’t dead. They could still play basketball at a high level. So, what chance in hell did I have as I cheered against this juggernaut with a 30-ton jock strap? 

The Detroit Pistons featured one of the most idyllic starting fives of all-time. Ben Wallace played center. Big Ben was the runnerup for Defensive Player of the Year. He averaged 12.5 rebounds and 3 blocks per game, and he chipped in 9 or 10 points. 

Power forward Rasheed Wallace, unrelated to Ben, found his way to Detroit via trade in February. Leading up to the postseason run, he scored 13.7 points a contest to go along with 7 boards. 

Small forward Tayshaun Prince was known for his plastering defensive effort and high shooting-percentage. The lanky second-year starter scored about 10 points a contest. 

Shooting guard Rip Hamilton led Detroit in scoring with 17.6 PPG. He was tough, athletic, energized, and unselfish. He shared these traits with his teammates in ‘05.

Rounding out the starting five, point guard Chaucey Billups led the team in assists and three point shooting while averaging 16.9 points a game. He was nicknamed “Mr. Big Shot” because he wanted the ball in those do-or-die moments when the only way to win was to swish a buzzer beater. 

Veterans Lindsey Hunter and Corliss “Big Nasty” Williamson get a shoutout for providing depth, and because I like to say “Big Nasty.” 

Detroit was coached by the pride of Brooklyn, New York, Larry “Little General” Brown. The General had been in command of NBA squads since the mid-’70s. Before Detroit, Brown had gigs in Denver, New Jersey, San Antonio, LA, and Philly—but had never won a championship. As for Brown’s coaching counterpart, Jackson had 9 rings and zero losses in the Finals at this point in time. 

You’re damn right I wanted Phil Jackson to fail for a change. After the lulling, autopilot letdown of the prior season’s finale, I was pretty psyched for the good guys to upset the heelish divas in these Finals. Just before tip-off of game 1, I may have even gestured at Detroit’s starting 5 onscreen and demanded, “Win this one for Lil’ General!” 

Big Ben, Sheed, Tay, Rip, and Mr. Big Shot must’ve heard me from 2 time zones away on the west coast, my voice piercing through the commotion in the Staples Center the night of June 6th, 2004. Mailman Malone shot like garbage in game 1, going 2-for-9 shooting to my delight as the Pistons prevailed 87-75. Detroit put on a masterclass of team defense. 

The Lakers bounced back to take game 2. Screw this game!

Game 3 saw the Lakers wondering if they could win a pro basketball matchup by scoring only 68 points. Sorry fellas, it doesn’t work that way since they invented this doodad called the shot clock. Detroit’s D was exceptional again and the Lakers were reeling. Rip Hamilton led all scorers with 31 points. 

In game 4, it seems the Pistons felt sorry for the Lakers, so they generously allowed them to score 80 points to see what would happen. Well, Detroit still prevailed, 88-80. Shaq made a woeful four of his 11 free throws, which was poor timing for his notorious Achilles heel to flare up. Sheed and Chauncey combined for 49 points as the fans at the Palace of Auburn Hills went home happy.

On June 15th, 2004, my Finals losing streak came to an end at 13 as the Pistons bested the Lakers 100-87. All five Detroit starters scored in double figures in another showcase of glorious team basketball. Mailman Malone was too banged up to compete. Basketball Reference describes his game 5 efforts in the box score with the 3 words “Did Not Dress.” Gary Glove scored two lousy points in almost 31 minutes on the floor. Shaq missed 10 of his 16 free throws because that was something he never got good at. It’s a safe bet that Kobe was pissed. 

But I was the opposite of pissed. How would I describe my mood? Peacefully free of piss? Hey, I don’t call myself a wordsmith for nothing. 

Thanks for letting me get these 7,000-plus words out of my head—the words about the NBA Finals, I mean. Extra thanks to the Detroit Pistons. I don’t root for you anymore, I don’t plan on cheering for you again, and stop beating my Bucks, but your teams taught me that when we persevere, no matter how long it takes, everybody can find redemption. 

Everybody but Karl Malone.