With the Bulls perilously down 3-0 in their Eastern Conference semifinal series with the Detroit Pistons, you say you want a revolution?
And failing that, you will settle for a faint pulse?
That might require a nuclear-powered defibrillator. No team in the history of the NBA playoffs has trailed 3-0 in a best-of-seven series and come back to win.
But you knew that. You also know that 3-0 is not a guaranteed death sentence. Three teams have rallied from 3-0 deficits to win a playoff series: the 1942 Toronto Maple Leafs, the 1975 New York Islanders and the 2004 Boston Red Sox.
And you also know that nothing happens for the first time until it happens for the first time.
As such, there are a few omens to look for, beginning with Sunday’s Game 4 at the United Center.
Mr. Clutch
Not surprisingly, all three of the miracle-making teams featured a transcendent individual performance, small or large, that changed the series.
For the Islanders, Ed Westfall dramatically ended the series with a goal late in a scoreless Game 7.
For the Red Sox, David Ortiz hit a two-run walk-off homer in Game 4 and a walk-off single in the 14th inning of Game 5.
For the Leafs, Don Metz, involved in seemingly every key goal in Games 4 through 6, scored three of his own in a 9-3 Game 5 victory.
For the Bulls … really, anyone will do. But they do have an established last-minute maestro on the roster.
So, remember the aforementioned defibrillator? Paging Ben Gordon — Ben Gordon, please pick up the white courtesy phone near the kindly man with the paddles.
The folk hero
Recovering from a 3-0 deficit seemingly always involves an earnest — or idiosyncratic — personality who emerges and shines as brilliantly as the star.
Take Islanders goalie Glenn “Chico” Resch. After covering a shot that had rebounded to him off the post in Game 6, Resch pulled himself up and literally kissed the iron that aided him.
Or the Red Sox’s Dave Roberts, he of the .267 career batting average. His steal in the ninth inning of Game 4 against the Yankees is regarded as the turning point of the series
But none matches the Leafs’ unheralded Metz, he of 55 career NHL points, a wheat farmer from Wilcox, Saskatchewan. A wheat farmer? It couldn’t have been more sappy if he had played with a pitchfork.
For the Bulls … does Andres Nocioni’s family have a thriving vegetable concern in Argentina or something? Even without farm aid, his usually irrepressible personality nevertheless fits the bill. Or might the Bulls need to dig so deep as to reach an Adrian Griffin, the forgotten journeyman who seizes the moment?
Short of that, can anyone play in overalls?
Bench marks
Each of the 3-0 comebacks featured, at some level, brave coaching strokes — or at least blind bravado.
So it was with Islanders coach Al Arbour, who reportedly bellowed, “If there’s anyone here who doesn’t feel we can come back and beat these guys, get off the ice immediately.”
More technically, Red Sox manager Terry Francona inserted Roberts to pinch-run, and though it was a no-brainer, had the confidence to let Curt Schilling pitch through his famed bloody sock.
But even bolder were Leafs coach Hap Day’s moves. Down 3-0, he benched his leading scorer, Gordie Dillon, and his best defenseman, Bucko McDonald. He inserted Metz up front, and the obscure winger almost single-handedly won the series.
For the Bulls … some radical lineup adjustments, the kind they seemed too paralyzed to make in Game 3.
Or convince Ben Wallace to change his name to “Bucko.” Then bench him.
Or have Scott Skiles wear a sweat shirt with “COLLEGE” on the front and scream “Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor!?!” Then take the floor in a tank disguised as a float.
The quirkier, the better
It might be a chicken-and-egg debate — does the comeback immortalize the mundane, or did the mundane fuel the comeback? — but nonetheless the fable-like stories are there.
Day, the Toronto coach, read his team a letter from a 14-year-old girl who was convinced the team could win the series.
In 1975, there was Resch smooching the pipes.
In 2004, there was the bloody sock; the longest postseason game to that point; Alex Rodriguez’s notorious slap at Bronson Arroyo’s tag attempt; and the Red Sox watching the movie “Miracle” before Game 7.
For the Bulls … canvass local schools for wide-eyed fans with a gift for inspiring letters? Watch some tapes of Pamplona bulls trampling people? Take a red Sharpie to everyone’s game socks?
At this point, with such a tremendous task ahead and merely a tenuous blueprint to work from, the Bulls might as well try anything. Or anyone. Even Skiles leading the team in a chorus of “Louie, Louie.”
Well, maybe things aren’t quite that bad.
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bchamilton@tribune.com
