Joining them in retaliation was exactly what the Pistons wanted. The game would become even more intense, which suited their preferred style—a mud-wrestling match.
But when we didn't retaliate, they didn't know how to respond. They were finished.
For me, this game was tremendously significant, not just for winning the Eastern Conference championship.
On this very court, just a year before, Game 7: I scored only 2 points.
Whether or not I had a migraine, it remains an indelible stain on my basketball career.
I couldn't undo the concussion that left me dazed. We could lament, but we couldn't change anything about the past.
I had to live with those two disappointing performances for the rest of my life, until the day I die.
At least beating the Detroit Pistons in 1991 brought some solace to my heart.
I tallied 23 points, 10 assists, 6 rebounds, and 3 steals.
