ShareThisBy BRUCE JENKINS
San Francisco Chronicle
Thursday, May 10, 2007
By game's end, Derek Fisher just wanted to reach out _ to anyone. After all the veteran Utah Jazz guard had been through, a soothing word from a fan or teammate would have sufficed. He had an even better option, though. Jason Richardson was standing right there.
Extending an arm to his good friend, former teammate and, at the moment, a beaten man, Fisher got a warm embrace in return. That's part of the Golden State Warriors' character _ seeing the bigger picture, recognizing heart and soul when it passes their way. Monta Ellis was there, too, hugging the man who turned Game 2 into a fairy tale win for the Jazz.
"Hugging those guys, that's something I never would have done normally _ not after a Game 2," Fisher said. "That's more of a Game 7 kind of thing. But I'd talked to a lot of those guys in the last couple of days, and they knew my situation."
Reflecting on an overtime loss that put them down 0-2 in this Western Conference semifinal, the Warriors thought a lot about Fisher, who didn't arrive at the arena until the third quarter after enduring a life-threatening experience with his daughter, stricken by eye cancer, in New York City. They had to admire the 30 points from Carlos Boozer and the 20 from that madman of the open floor, Andrei Kirilenko, and they were probably cursing Deron Williams, once again, for the clutch shots he hit at the end of regulation and the opening moments of overtime.
Through it all, though, they had to recall the sight of Andris Biedrins at the free-throw line, 1:31 left in regulation, Warriors leading by a point. Matt Barnes had just hauled down an offensive rebound _ a bit of an upset, considering Utah's ridiculous 60-32 edge on the boards _ and Stephen Jackson rifled a perfect pass inside to Biedrins, who got fouled.
Biedrins might be the worst free thrower in the history of the NBA. That's really saying something, but he's definitely in the conversation. Some of his shots don't get past the front rim, slamming off rudely and heading off to bruise someone's knee.
Summoning his absolute best at this crucial time, Biedrins put down both free throws. It seems implausible, on the brink of inexcusable, that Mickael Pietrus and Baron Davis couldn't follow his lead.
The Warriors had a three-point lead when Davis brought the ball down the floor inside the final minute. Fisher rushed to guard him in a classic confrontation: two players known to crave the moment when the tension becomes unbearable. Davis, trying to put the game away. Fisher, trying to at least temporarily forget one of the most devastating episodes of his life. Fisher was relentless, swarming over Davis without mercy, and now Baron was accidentally stepping on the baseline, just inside half court, for a turnover.
"I thought he was trying to foul me," Davis said. "He kept reaching, reaching in. I should have kept the ball in the middle of the floor."
Thanks to the superb defense of Jackson, Mehmet Okur missed a three-point try at the other end, and now Pietrus had two free-throw tries that could seal it with 16 seconds left. He missed them both, completing a sadly invisible performance over 13 minutes of play (he didn't stand so tall afterward, either, brushing away reporters with a no-comment stance).
It was a minor miracle that Okur's ensuing shot, a masterpiece of resolve that brought down the house, was taken just an inch inside the three-point line. That left the Warriors up by a point, and when Davis went to the free-throw line with 6.2 seconds left, he had a chance to restore that three-point lead and put extreme pressure on a team that would rather not shoot from that far (16 attempts from three-point range to the Warriors' 40).
But Davis didn't do his job. As marvelous as he was in a 36-point performance that re-established his edge over Williams, he hit only one of the two free-throw tries. "Went in and out," Davis said of the fateful second one. "I really don't miss 'em, so ..."
So Utah had the opportunity for Williams to drive the lane, hard, then pull up for a difficult little 12-foot floater that went straight in. Bedlam. The Warriors didn't know it then, but they were finished. The overtime, as it turned out, was painfully one-sided making the final 127-117.
"We gave this one away," a crestfallen Davis said. "That hurt. That hurt a lot. We lost it on the free throws, really. That just shouldn't happen. We're confident, though. We were out here on the road and put ourselves in a position to win."
As for Fisher, the man who wrote the fairy tale, "He came into the game and really gave 'em a boost," Davis said. "The situation he's in, man, my hat's off to him. He's got a lot of heart and character."
That certainly applied to both teams after a playoff game that left everyone in the building emotionally spent. Today won't feel so hot for any of the Warriors' fans, but Friday night brings Oracle Arena, that sound none of us can forget, and a sense once again that anything might happen. Welcome to the festivities, Mr. Fisher. You just joined the best show in the NBA.
(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service, www.scrippsnews.com.)
