If you ever could predict a team’s performance by its pregame appearance, it was Wednesday night at the United Center.
Before Game 4–the turning-point game of this NBA Finals–the Jazz stood in a hallway awaiting their cue to trot onto the floor. They didn’t appear to be a team awaiting their execution. They looked more like they had already lost.
Most of them leaned against the walls. None looked nervous; none looked to have any emotion other than, “Let’s go through the motions and get this over with.” No backslapping. No exhorting. No sounds at all, other than halfhearted grunts when they broke their huddle.
Incredibly, that’s how the Jazz “attacked” the most important game in the Hall of Fame careers of Karl Malone and John Stockton. As they did after the first quarter of Sunday night’s Game 3, the Jazz came out flat and flat-footed. They couldn’t atone for their Game 3 embarrassment by winning a purple heart because the guys in purple didn’t appear to have one.
This was inconceivable for a Jerry Sloan-coached team. As a Chicago Bull, Sloan’s trademark was competing–something his teams have almost always done even in defeat. How could Sloan’s team not come out with fire in their eyes and feet in a game that could get them even with the Bulls? Were they that demoralized by scoring only 54 in Game 3 while losing by 42?
Wouldn’t the Utah Jazz at least show the NBA world that they could match the Bulls’ effort, if not their talent? Say goodnight to the Great Salt Fakes.
Right away the Bulls began beating the Jazz to loose balls and missed shots. The quickest way to gauge a team’s desire is in the rebound category. The Bulls again were bullying the Jazz on the offensive boards. In the first half, the Bulls actually had more offensive than defensive rebounds.
The visitors were stiffs on the boards. Once more, the Bulls’ electricity was supplied by the man who doesn’t even need to sleep (except on practice days). Criticize Dennis Rodman all you want, but this team couldn’t win without his relentless hustle.
Sloan says he wouldn’t coach him. Sloan could have used him.
Even more embarrassing for Sloan’s team was a half-court offense that became even more stagnant than in Game 3. You’ve seen more movement in a Michigan Avenue mime troupe. The Jazz could have been charged with loitering–or impersonating the Jazz who won the West. They definitely could have been arrested by the Fun Police.
No one seemed sure when to shoot. They hesitated; they lost their rhythm. They appeared intimidated by Scottie Pippen’s raptorlike roaming and swooping. They were reduced to begging for illegal defense calls on Pippen.
You felt sorry for them.
Worse, Pippen further demoralized the visitors by suddenly finding the range with his three-point set shots. When Pippen goes unconscious from long distance–an aspect of his game that has faded–it’s almost unfair.
Again and again the Jazz all but begged the Bulls to put them out of their misery. Leads of six and seven points had the feeling of 16 or 17. Utah hung in only because the Bulls began to play down to the level of the competition. This began to resemble a midseason game against Milwaukee or Boston, with the Bulls spurting, then coasting. It was as if the Jazz uglied down the game to the point the Bulls couldn’t sustain their passion and interest.
The Jazz blew layups, missed free throws, threw away passes and opportunities. But the Bulls wouldn’t capitalize. Spurt, coast. Flex, sigh.
In the third quarter, it became increasingly clear the Jazz had only one real scorer left on their roster. Only Karl Malone offset Pippen’s best offensive game of the postseason with eight third-quarter points. As the final quarter began, Sloan began to show his first positive emotion since Game 2. The fist he began to shake said, “We can steal this one.”
The Bulls quit running their offense and began shooting a victory parade of long-range style-point shots. The Jazz began to do what it should have all along: pushing the ball up the floor before the Bulls could set their defense. The Jazz began to score quick baskets–to creep back into a game the Bulls should have put away.
Only then did the Jazz begin to show some confidence, some aggression, some life. You’d like to say it was a tribute to the Jazz that they caught the Bulls and actually led 70-69 with five minutes left. But it was mostly about the Bulls’ lapse in concentration. Winning this one had become almost too easy.
In the end, the difference was the bane of parents everywhere. Yes, Rodman proved once again he can spend the night before in Las Vegas or Detroit and still do what he does best–battle his guts out. As he said, “It’s all about putting your (manhood) on the line.” He did, intimidating Malone, making four clutch free throws, grabbing all the key rebounds.
The Jazz doesn’t have a Jordan or Pippen, but it doesn’t have a Rodman, either. It’s really too bad it has to stick around and play Game 5.
