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The vilification of Isiah Thomas began in his prime.The star and on-court leader of the Detroit Pistons, the so-called “Bad Boy” – Isiah named the team after a line from Al Pacino scarface — Thomas is associated with all the sins of the two-time NBA champion and his rogue’s gallery of stars. Rodman, Mahorn, Laimbeer — this looks less like a pro roster and more like a Buccaneers crew. Isiah’s reputation has deteriorated since his retirement, first with his poor performance as head coach in Indianapolis and then with a disastrous turn as the Knicks’ general manager. But most of all, if you hate him, it’s because of his epic battle with Michael Jordan. Isiah, a Chicago native and a product of the West Side playground, competed with Jordan for Chicagoans’ hearts. For years, the Bulls’ season stretched until they met Detroit in the playoffs. When the Bulls finally defeated the Pistons in the 1990 playoffs and won six championships in eight years, Michael Jordan became a god. When Michael Jordan became God, Isiah Thomas became the devil. That’s why you hate him. So consider me the devil’s advocate. Thomas is the best player in NBA history.He is the only player in the team sports Top fifty under six feet tall. He’s a (relatively) small guy who hits big, gets knocked down, but always gets back up and generally plays better after being injured. Not because of the pain, but because of the pain.In this paragraph comes from rolling stones New book from contributor Rich Cohen when the game is warCohen described a great bull-killing performance by Isiah in the 1988 playoffs.
At the start of Game 3, a storm hit Chicago, a strange system from the West. At noon the sky turned dark. Street lights with sensors come on across the ring road. Thunder comes with lightning; the beast is above you. The rain poured down. Chaos reigned on Upper Wacker Avenue. Lower Wacker Avenue filled up like a bowl. A bartender stands in the window of the Billy Goat Tavern and looks out. When the wind blows, it hits the skyscrapers like an open hand. The storm warning was upgraded first to a tornado watch and then to a tornado warning. People ran for cover on Michigan Avenue and State Street. The smell turned the umbrella upside down. Even the people inside the venue can feel the storm. The broadcast was briefly interrupted, but the game continued, meaning that, for a while, only those present knew what was going on. It’s a sad fallacy that the weather was too perfect for them, and the outside world mirrored the gloom every fan felt as they refocused on the Pistons beating the Bulls.
Bill Laimbeer feeds on dark energy. He’s a Bond villain, a heel. He shot from the top of the key, pumped his fist, then caught Jordan with a quick, dirty hip check as the Bulls rushed the court. Jordan staggered around and rushed towards Laimbeer.
From that moment on, Jordan (who later said Laimbeer hit his “balls”) forgot his mission, losing his composure, timing and shot.
“It distracted us,” Bulls coach Doug Collins said. “And we never recovered.”
The Bulls scored just 79 points that night, their worst performance of the 1988 playoffs. Chicago fans who came for the coronation witnessed a funeral.
What followed seemed inevitable: A disappointing Game 4 performance — the Bulls were even worse, scoring just 77 points — followed by a Game 5 loss of the season in Detroit ’s final game. What will be remembered is Michael Jordan and Pistons guard Isiah Thomas battling for rebounds in the third quarter. Michael hit Isiah in the head with his elbow. Isiah was unconscious before falling to the ground. For a moment, the game continued around him. Then the whistle sounded. Trainers and coaches came running over. Detroit assistant Ron Rothstein waved smelling salts under Zeke’s nose. His eyes opened. In it, you realize some fundamental questions: Who am I? Why am I here? His vision cleared; he stood up and stumbled away. They said he was done for the night. He went to the locker room, found the door locked, and, not knowing where else to go, returned to the bench. The announcer said he was back not to compete, but to support his team. A minute later, the same announcer said he would play, but only if absolutely necessary. Within minutes he was on the floor. The Bulls are regrouping. Thomas was told to stop the bleeding.
Bulls fans view Isiah Thomas as a whiner, a loser prone to whining and complaining, just like the rest of the bad boy Pistons. But I never bought into that because I actually watched Isiah play. No one was more resilient, stronger, or more willing to sacrifice his body and well-being for the cause. As an average-sized guy in the big man game, he took more abuse than a grown man, got knocked down, knocked down, stomped on, but almost always came back re-energized, angry and ready to compete.
His post-retirement experience has cast a shadow over Isiah as a player, as he admitted that Michael Jordan was the “GOAT” of the NBA and his hard-fought battle with the Bad Boy Pistons became part of the legend as a member of Detroit’s — Those who dare to stop Michael – become villains. For Isiah, it’s a kind of outcast rap that “The Last Dance” solidified for the next generation, with the film establishing Isiah as his eternal nemesis. What happened to Isaiah was like what happened to the Jews when Rome converted to Christianity. The rivalry between local sects (one aspect of the story) is celebrated as a monumental battle between good and evil.
But I remember it differently. Because I’m right there. Because I watched Isiah play in high school and college. Because I understand the situations he faced in Detroit and how he elevated his talents to turn the team around. I admire how he overcame the weak opponents he faced in Detroit and turned the team into back-to-back winners with leadership and tremendous physical exertion.
What Isiah did that afternoon at the Silverdome was proof of that. At 1:55, he lost consciousness in the paint. At 2:10, he opened the door to the locker room. At 2:30, he returned to the game and led the team across the finish line.
When Zeke came back, the Bulls were in the basket. When I came back five minutes later, they were done. He scored nine straight points in three minutes to end Chicago’s season.
Excerpted from the book “When the Game Was War: The NBA’s Greatest Seasons” by Rich Cohen. Copyright © 2023 Tough Jesus, Inc. Published by Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC.