[trekfan]

Ch. 10
November 21^st, 1996

Sitting beside his head coach, Kobe watched the game unfold with him out of it. He had picked up an early foul and Ron had pulled him, just to give him a minute to think about it. He understood that, but it still pissed him off to get pulled so early in the game here, in Chicago -- he was playing on the court that made Michael Jordan the most famous basketball player in the world.

The night before they had lost to the Jazz in Utah – the flight back was hell and the travel schedule wasn’t doing them any favors tonight. Coming here, on short rest, the Heat were playing against the 7-3 Bulls. Scottie Pippen was ably leading the Bulls without Jordan – something Kobe wasn’t sure the man could really do – and the Heat, thanks to their loss to the still perfect (10-0) Jazz, also were 7-3.

They were only ten games through the season, but already they were battling for a playoff spot. It made him proud to be part of that – this team was a losing one the year before.

“God damn it!” Ron yelled and Kobe watched as Bill Wennington, one of the Bulls centers, grabbed an offense rebound. Dikembe was right nearby but just out of position …



But that didn’t matter. The reach and length of Dikembe was more than enough to swat the ball away from Wennington. It went flying towards the backcourt, where Terry Porter grabbed it and took it the hole with a nasty dunk, then was fouled coming down by Dennis Rodman; Terry landed all right, but he was pissed. Kobe and the rest of the bench stood up as Rodman just shrugged his shoulders after the foul and the refs got between Porter and Rodman, trying to keep things calm.

“Kobe, get back in there,” Ron said as he glared at Rodman heading back to the Bulls bench. Ron grabbed him by the shoulder. “And go at Rodman. We don’t take that *hit lying down.”

“I’ll mess him up.” He’d go at Rodman all right. I’m gonna get that mother*ucker to foul out.

****

“Where’s the defense?” Ron said as he looked at the halftime scoresheet. Sure, they were winning, but it was just by the skin of their teeth.



Doc Kirby chuckled at the sheet. “I told you we shouldn’t have used American Airlines. Probably lost it when we got off the plane.”

Ron blew out a sigh of frustration. Dikembe had three fouls and had spent most of the second quarter glued to the bench. Geiger was doing all right, but was getting torched by the Bulls bigs inside. Shareef and Kobe were doing well, but neither was playing better than average defense. Dominique was getting hammered by Pippen.

But Terry Porter had come to play. The point guard was showing exactly how valuable he was and how, even with Dikembe out, the Heat could still control the game.

“Our defense will need to show up eventually,” Ron mumbled. “After last night, I thought we’d get more effort.” The 98-93 loss still stuck in his craw. They could have been the first team to beat Utah all season – instead, they let it slip away on the road.

“Maybe tonight we should just stick with what works,” Doc offered.

Ron took another deep breath and crumpled the sheet into a ball. “It’s not about who plays the best defense – ”

“But who puts the most points on the scoreboard,” Doc finished, offering a gentle pat on Ron’s back. “You remember, huh?”

Ron smirked. “Hard to forget Coach Smith’s mantra.” Ron took another breath and straightened his tie. “Let’s get this win.”

****

“I’m telling you, he’s picking on Rodman on purpose,” Helena said as she sat in the press box. The Herald was kind enough to send her to cover this game, simply because of the star powered in it.

Her Chicago counterpart, Xavier Galloway, was having no part of her opinion, though. “Bryant is eighteen – Rodman has nearly twenty years on him! No way the kid is targeting one of the best defenders in the league.”

She pointed at the court. “Take a look.”

Rodman had five fouls – three of those coming from contact initiated by Bryant, all coming in the third quarter. There was only three minutes left before they would head to the fourth, but the teams were neck and neck – the lead had been traded back so many times between them, she couldn’t keep track anymore.

But Bryant had the ball now and he was waving everyone off – he had Rodman on him and the young kid was going to try to exploit the mismatch. Or give up a devastating fast break, she thought quietly.

“Rodman’s gonna eat him,” Galloway said with a little too much enthusiasm but it was understandable; he was a homer just like her. The only difference was his team had titles.

Bryant sized Rodman up, tried to get by him with a crossover, but Rodman wasn’t biting. Bryant step backed and dribbled as the clock wound down. 12 seconds. 10. 8.

“He’s gonna turn it over,” Galloway said with glee.

Helena bit her lip as she watched the rookie just sit there.

And then Bryant went right at Rodman, lowered his shoulder, and unleashed a devastating spin move. Rodman barely kept in front of him, but the veteran was clearly off balance and the two went into the air.



Bryant’s floater fell and Rodman was called for the foul after slapping at Bryant’s arm during the shot attempt. Dennis Rodman was out of the game with a full quarter still left.

“*ucking refs!” Galloway yelled.

Helena did her best not to smile.