Bird. 'Nique. Wittman?
http://www.atomicsportsmedia.com/articles/23/1/Bird-Nique-Wittman.html
Dave McElwee
By Dave McElwee
Published on 01/8/2006
Everyone remembers the dramatic showdown between Larry Bird and Dominique Wilkins in the 1988 NBA conference finals. But who remembers the little-known white guy who had the game of his life alongside two hall-of-famers?
May 22, 1988. Bird. Wilkins. Wittman?
For years, I was sucked in too.
Throughout the last two decades, the Powers-That-Be in the NBA have told us that on May 22, 1988, two of the league’s all-time greats suited up for Game 7 of the 1988 playoff semifinals and put on a show for the ages. They said that Larry Bird and Dominique Wilkins walked onto the court that day as men and walked off as gods.
And for the last 17 years, they had themselves a point. I mean, take a look at the stats we’ve been shoveled: 47 points for ’Nique on 19-of-23 shooting, 34 from Bird on 15-of-24 shooting, including 20 in the fourth. The numbers don’t lie.
Or do they?
Last week, the good folks at Netflix mailed my latest DVD rental. After an unsuccessful attempt to erase my memory of “The Island” with a Taco Bell spork and siphoned weed-whacker gas, it was time to watch “NBA: Larry Bird: A Basketball Legend: 25th Anniversary Collector’s Edition, Disc 2.” Which includes, in its entirety, the aforementioned game.
When you watch this game, you’ll notice a few things. One, the production value and game clarity is surprisingly solid for a game 19 years old. Considering the current advances in technology, you couldn’t ask for much more from something nearly two decades old. Another shock is the intensity of play for a semi-final contest. This game was an absolute war. The refs allowed every second of it and managed to call it right, right down the line. I’ve been to a number of NBA playoff games, so maybe this is just me, but the finals aside, I simply don’t think the fans get up for a game like they did 20 years ago. And sometime soon, I’ll write an article about the night-and-day difference between the game play in 1988 (crisp passing, limited dribbling, the art of the 18-foot jumper), and today’s game. For now, the focus of this piece has nothing to do with crowd noise, camera work or length of the players’ shorts.
No, this has to do with something far more shocking and eye-opening. Midway through the second quarter you start to realize, hey, wait a second here, there are a LOT of random players on the court right now. And, they’re contributing!
I thought long and hard about how this article should progress. Do I aim for an amusing feel? Should I poke fun at the crowd’s clothing or Mike Fratello’s hair? Do I focus on the old fashioned trench war between Kevin McHale and Kevin Willis and how an unadulterated low post battle like that will never be seen again? Sure, those are solid topics, but nothing can stop the head-shaking, sheer disbelief of seeing not one, not two, but six guys with a combined lifetime playoff scoring average of 4.1 points per game were all on the floor in crunch time. Of Game 7. At the same time.
Celtics forward Mark Acres dives for loose balls, hits open 12-footers, makes heads-up passes. Hawks forward Scott Hastings plays key minutes, hits a few shots and plays solid D. Cliff Levingston, Dirk Minniefield, Brad Lohaus and Fred Roberts all get some PT. And the impetus for this essay - Hawks guard Randy Wittman - hits 7-of-9 from the field for 14 points in the first half, ending up with – are you ready for this? – 22 points on ELEVEN-of-THIRTEEN shooting from the floor. Against the Celtics. In the Garden. During a seventh game.
Wow.
I’m telling you, you have to watch this game to believe it. Players like this wouldn’t so much as make training camp nowadays. Name any team in the league (ok, except maybe the Knicks or the current Hawks) where skinny, six-foot-six YMCA studs would be doing anything other than taping ankles or giving Shaq his pre-game back rub.
I can’t think of a game, let alone one during the NBA Playoffs, where anyone as random as Randy Wittman took over a contest despite such a noticeable lack of production throughout rest of their careers. (In fairness to Hawks fans, I’ll add this disclaimer – Wittman did have a career-high of 12.9 points per game in ’86 and topped 10 points per game two other times. but other than a not-so-bad four-year stretch from ’85 through ’88, this guy should have been selling season ticket packages, not anchoring your backcourt). In the 1987-88 playoffs, Wittman was fourth in scoring for a Hawks team that featured Dominique, a young, tough and crazy-strong Kevin Willis, lightning quick Doc Rivers, small wonder Spud Webb, a 26-year old absolute monster in Antoine Carr, lane filler/offensive glass wizard Tree Rollins, and a spry and definitely-should-have-been-better-than-he-ended-up John Battle. That’s a solid team. Heck, they came within two points of going to the NBA Finals and a match-up friendly meeting with the ’88 Lakers. I’ll say it again. Wow.
So, yeah, I learned a few lessons when I popped in this little gem. Yes, the NBA has changed - sometimes for the better (exposure, growth of the sport itself) but mostly for the worse (scoring, officiating, rules, nicknames, uniforms, arenas, speed of the game, quality of play, utter lack of a mid-range jumper....)
And sure, it does make me sad that role players are a dying and completely unheralded facet to today’s sports landscape. But even though I do realize that during this particular day in late May nearly 20 years ago, two legends faced one another and put on a show I’m unlikely to ever see again, it ended up taking a forward from Indiana not named Bird steal my imagination.
 |
Everyone remembers the dramatic showdown between Larry Bird and Dominique Wilkins in the 1988 NBA conference finals. But who remembers the little-known white guy who had the game of his life alongside two hall-of-famers?
|
May 22, 1988. Bird. Wilkins. Wittman?
For years, I was sucked in too.
Throughout the last two decades, the Powers-That-Be in the NBA have told us that on May 22, 1988, two of the league’s all-time greats suited up for Game 7 of the 1988 playoff semifinals and put on a show for the ages. They said that Larry Bird and Dominique Wilkins walked onto the court that day as men and walked off as gods.
And for the last 17 years, they had themselves a point. I mean, take a look at the stats we’ve been shoveled: 47 points for ’Nique on 19-of-23 shooting, 34 from Bird on 15-of-24 shooting, including 20 in the fourth. The numbers don’t lie.
Or do they?
Last week, the good folks at Netflix mailed my latest DVD rental. After an unsuccessful attempt to erase my memory of “The Island” with a Taco Bell spork and siphoned weed-whacker gas, it was time to watch “NBA: Larry Bird: A Basketball Legend: 25th Anniversary Collector’s Edition, Disc 2.” Which includes, in its entirety, the aforementioned game.
When you watch this game, you’ll notice a few things. One, the production value and game clarity is surprisingly solid for a game 19 years old. Considering the current advances in technology, you couldn’t ask for much more from something nearly two decades old. Another shock is the intensity of play for a semi-final contest. This game was an absolute war. The refs allowed every second of it and managed to call it right, right down the line. I’ve been to a number of NBA playoff games, so maybe this is just me, but the finals aside, I simply don’t think the fans get up for a game like they did 20 years ago. And sometime soon, I’ll write an article about the night-and-day difference between the game play in 1988 (crisp passing, limited dribbling, the art of the 18-foot jumper), and today’s game. For now, the focus of this piece has nothing to do with crowd noise, camera work or length of the players’ shorts.
No, this has to do with something far more shocking and eye-opening. Midway through the second quarter you start to realize, hey, wait a second here, there are a LOT of random players on the court right now. And, they’re contributing!
I thought long and hard about how this article should progress. Do I aim for an amusing feel? Should I poke fun at the crowd’s clothing or Mike Fratello’s hair? Do I focus on the old fashioned trench war between Kevin McHale and Kevin Willis and how an unadulterated low post battle like that will never be seen again? Sure, those are solid topics, but nothing can stop the head-shaking, sheer disbelief of seeing not one, not two, but six guys with a combined lifetime playoff scoring average of 4.1 points per game were all on the floor in crunch time. Of Game 7. At the same time.
Celtics forward Mark Acres dives for loose balls, hits open 12-footers, makes heads-up passes. Hawks forward Scott Hastings plays key minutes, hits a few shots and plays solid D. Cliff Levingston, Dirk Minniefield, Brad Lohaus and Fred Roberts all get some PT. And the impetus for this essay - Hawks guard Randy Wittman - hits 7-of-9 from the field for 14 points in the first half, ending up with – are you ready for this? – 22 points on ELEVEN-of-THIRTEEN shooting from the floor. Against the Celtics. In the Garden. During a seventh game.
Wow.
I’m telling you, you have to watch this game to believe it. Players like this wouldn’t so much as make training camp nowadays. Name any team in the league (ok, except maybe the Knicks or the current Hawks) where skinny, six-foot-six YMCA studs would be doing anything other than taping ankles or giving Shaq his pre-game back rub.
I can’t think of a game, let alone one during the NBA Playoffs, where anyone as random as Randy Wittman took over a contest despite such a noticeable lack of production throughout rest of their careers. (In fairness to Hawks fans, I’ll add this disclaimer – Wittman did have a career-high of 12.9 points per game in ’86 and topped 10 points per game two other times. but other than a not-so-bad four-year stretch from ’85 through ’88, this guy should have been selling season ticket packages, not anchoring your backcourt). In the 1987-88 playoffs, Wittman was fourth in scoring for a Hawks team that featured Dominique, a young, tough and crazy-strong Kevin Willis, lightning quick Doc Rivers, small wonder Spud Webb, a 26-year old absolute monster in Antoine Carr, lane filler/offensive glass wizard Tree Rollins, and a spry and definitely-should-have-been-better-than-he-ended-up John Battle. That’s a solid team. Heck, they came within two points of going to the NBA Finals and a match-up friendly meeting with the ’88 Lakers. I’ll say it again. Wow.
So, yeah, I learned a few lessons when I popped in this little gem. Yes, the NBA has changed - sometimes for the better (exposure, growth of the sport itself) but mostly for the worse (scoring, officiating, rules, nicknames, uniforms, arenas, speed of the game, quality of play, utter lack of a mid-range jumper....)
And sure, it does make me sad that role players are a dying and completely unheralded facet to today’s sports landscape. But even though I do realize that during this particular day in late May nearly 20 years ago, two legends faced one another and put on a show I’m unlikely to ever see again, it ended up taking a forward from Indiana not named Bird steal my imagination.