For The 76ers, It Was Almost A Net Loss

It was obvious at the start of Game 1 that the Nets had the right idea. When they weren't running the break, small forwards Mike O'Koren or Albert King brought the ball up the floor, which neutralized pressure from ballhawks like Cheeks and made Erving work harder on defense. The plan worked like a charm from the start; of New Jersey's 39 first-quarter points, an unusually high number to score against Philly, 22 came on layups, dunks or tip-ins.

The blistering second-half comeback was a standard feature of Philadelphia's play last season. But last week in Game 1 the Sixers' big run never materialized, for two reasons. The first was Albeck's adroit use of time-outs; whenever the 76ers began to make a move, the Nets would stop the action, regroup and mount a rally of their own.

The second was more disturbing for Philly. The Sixers were simply out-hustled. While they struck the haughty poses of defending champions, the Nets, especially power forward Buck Williams, who had 16 rebounds and finished with 25 points, gave up their bodies in pursuit of every rebound and loose ball. Once, while Cheeks argued with an official that he'd been fouled after a basket, Kelvin Ransey, whom Cheeks was supposed to have been guarding, broke free for an easy basket.

Such lackadaisical play was reminiscent of the regular season, when Cunningham often bemoaned the Sixers' reliance on their ability to turn it on in the fourth quarter to pull out victories. Cunningham had known that no team could depend on fourth-quarter heroics in the playoffs when Malone, Philly's bread and butter, could get only crumbs in the second half of Game 1, when he was 0 for 2 from the field and took down only four rebounds. No wonder 76ers owner Harold Katz was upset. On the way to the Philadelphia locker room, he was told to cheer up. "You cheer up," Katz snapped. "You pay these guys all this bleepin' money and see how you feel, watching them play like that."

Two nights later, Cunningham wasn't exaggerating when he said Game 2 would be "a seventh game for us"—as in win or be, in effect, eliminated. The adjustment to be made, he added, would have to come on defense. "If we play up to our maximum offensive potential, and they play up to theirs, they win easily," Cunningham said. "They just have to be stopped. Micheal Ray Richardson was doing things to us that we don't let Magic Johnson do."

Before the game, trivia was the order of the day, as in, "Do you know [wink-wink] the last team [nudge-nudge] to come back from a 2-0 deficit in a five-game series [outright laughter]?" Of course, the answer—the 1955-56 Fort Wayne Pistons, who beat the St. Louis Hawks—was thought to be irrelevant.

It wasn't after New Jersey's second win showed that, although Philadelphia didn't play badly, the Nets were simply clicking on all five cylinders. That hadn't been true during the regular season, when New Jersey appeared to be going nowhere fast. Although nine of the Nets' 12 players were first-round NBA draft choices, New Jersey was never in sync long enough to put all that talent to use. After starting the season 5-2, the Nets went through a stretch during which 17 of 22 games were away. They won but eight of them. Then, as one Nets official put it, "Sugar came back."

It was widely assumed at the time that Richardson's return would be worse for New Jersey than six West Coast road trips. In fact, there was good reason to think that the Nets' early season fizzle actually began on Oct. 5, when Richardson, "easily the best player in training camp at the time," says Albeck, disappeared for three days. Richardson would later disclose that his absence was the result of a recurrence of his drug addiction, for which he had twice visited rehabilitation centers last spring and summer. Richardson's odd behavior and his initial reluctance to undergo further drug treatment would cause the Nets to put him on waivers six days after his disappearance. Under pressure from the league to take Richardson back, the Nets hesitantly restored him to their roster in late December—but only after he'd agreed to three urine tests per week for the remainder of the season and to the stipulation that he'd be permanently banned from the league if he ever tested positively for drug use.

When Richardson returned to the Nets, his teammates' less than enthusiastic welcome was "based in reality," says Albeck. "It was like he'd conned us. He had to win our respect again, not once but two and three times." Since his return, Richardson averaged 12 points and 4.5 assists in 48 regular-season games, but perhaps more important, says Albeck, he "reacquired his self-respect and sense of dignity."

"I can understand what the players were thinking," Richardson says. "But I'm just grateful for the opportunity to play again. I knew what I could do if given a chance. Now I'm just doing it."