When the Game Was Ours (7 page)

When Magic and Michigan State had completed their thrashing of the Russians, Bird turned to his teammates and said, "Boys, you are watching the best team in the country."

Bird began the evening sitting next to Nicks on a sagging couch and bragging about how he was going to dominate the Soviets. He pointed to one Russian forward and explained in explicit detail how he was going to embarrass him in the post. He pointed to another and promised to rain jump shots on his head. "There ain't nobody out there that can guard me," he boasted.

"That's what he started out saying," said Nicks. "But by the end he was saying, 'That Magic, he's incredible.'"

Bird backed up his bravado on November 20 as ISU stunned the Soviets 83–79 behind 22 points and 13 rebounds from their forward. Thus, Indiana State became one of just four colleges that beat the Russians.

Both Michigan State and Indiana State utilized their victories over the Soviets as a springboard to their regular season before departing for opposite corners of the country.

The Sycamores flew to Deland, Florida, where they easily dispatched East Carolina (102–79) and Cleveland State (102–71) to win the Hatter Classic.

At that juncture, Indiana State was 6–0, but Bird, the architect of the win streak who averaged over 31 points and 13.6 rebounds during that stretch, still wasn't impressed.

"We were winning, but we really hadn't played anybody yet," Bird explained.

For its Christmas tournament on December 18, Michigan State flew west to Portland, Oregon, where they were scheduled to play Washington State, Heathcote's alma mater. The Wazzus were ranked 10th in the country and led by Don Collins, who later played for the Washington Bullets in the NBA.

The normally effusive Heathcote was strangely closed-mouthed in the days leading up to the game against his beloved school, where he had also worked as an assistant coach for seven seasons.

"Like a bulldog, he was so tight," Magic said. "I could tell the game meant a lot to him. He had all of his old friends in the stands watching."

The day before the game, Magic called a players-only meeting and explained the significance of the matchup to Heathcote. "We can't let him down," Magic told them.

Michigan State trounced Washington State by 46 points. As they walked off the court, Magic nudged Heathcote with his elbow.

"Coach, that one was for you," he said.

The next day, just before Michigan State tipped off against Oregon State, Indiana coach Bob Knight, whose team had just beaten Oregon, shook Heathcote's hand and said, "C'mon now, Jud. Make it an all–Big Ten final."

Michigan State dispatched Oregon State by 8, then spanked Indiana 74–57 in the championship. Magic submitted 20 points and 7 assists against the Hoosiers.

The Spartan players were euphoric about their performance but also anxious to return home to ring in the New Year with friends and family. On December 30, they boarded a flight to Seattle that was supposed to connect them to a flight back home to Michigan, but a blinding snowstorm diverted them to Denver. There, with his team gathered around the baggage carousel, Heathcote received the official word: the new college rankings listed Michigan State as the number-one team in the country.

The newly minted team made it as far as Minneapolis the following day before inclement weather again left them stuck in a hotel, rinsing out socks and underwear on New Year's Eve.

By the time they finally landed in Detroit two days later, on January 2, the players were tired, cranky, and irritated. The wait for their bags was interminable. Ten, then twenty minutes passed. Heathcote approached an airline representative, demanding that their luggage be brought out to them. Another ten minutes passed.

"There was steam coming out of his ears," Magic said.

Finally, Heathcote could wait no longer. He climbed onto the conveyer belt and rode down the shoot after the luggage. Minutes later, he was escorted through a side door with a security guard on either arm, as his players convulsed with laughter.

"I get very impatient when I'm traveling," Heathcote said.

When the Spartans finally did return to Lansing, they had not practiced for a week. Although the team rallied to beat their next two opponents, they went on to drop four of the next six games, including a blowout loss to lowly Northwestern on February 3. That defeat dropped Michigan State to 4–4 in the Big Ten.

The number-one ranking was a distant memory, and so was the jubilation of their Far West Classic championship.

Heathcote called a team meeting and chastised his players for not submitting a solid defensive effort, not working hard enough on the glass, and failing to play with the proper concentration.

Then it was the players' turn to sound off. Kelser went first. "Our mistakes are exacerbated by your tirades," Kelser told Heathcote. "You need to back off. You are also relying on Earvin too much. It's made us too predictable."

One by one, the players weighed in. Vincent said he was playing tentatively because he was afraid if he made a mistake he'd get yanked off the court. Magic told Heathcote he felt stifled with the offense they were running.

"Coach," Magic implored Heathcote, "let me take the ball and go!"

The coaches and players had reached a stalemate. Heathcote and his staff wanted better fundamentals and a more consistent commitment. His players wanted more freedom and less harassment.

Reserve John Longaker, a Rhodes Scholar who rarely played key minutes but was respected by his teammates for his high basketball IQ, stood up and declared, "We're not playing Michigan State basketball. What happened to all that confidence we had earlier in the year? Earvin, what happened to all that cockiness you had that kept us going?"

"He was right," Magic admitted. "We weren't playing with the same swagger."

"I was glad John said something," Heathcote said, "because he was one of the only guys Earvin would listen to."

Longaker, who went on to become a physician at Stanford Medical School, spoke plainly to Johnson about his academic deficiencies and the need for him to apply the same self-discipline he exhibited in his workouts to his studies. He taught Johnson how to organize his assignments and budget his time.

Longaker was one of the few players who wasn't afraid to challenge Johnson. During that team meeting, he implored Johnson to stop pointing fingers and look at himself.

After each player aired his concerns, Heathcote pledged to provide his point guard with more leeway and agreed to make a concerted effort to scream a little less. The meeting adjourned without properly addressing one more unspoken issue.

Although the Spartans were a close team, there were occasions when Magic's gigantic personality became all-encompassing. That was occasionally bothersome to Kelser, who was the team's leading scorer and rebounder but who was clearly overshadowed by his dynamic teammate.

"The truth is, we had two superstars—Magic and Kelser—but Magic was getting all the ink," Heathcote said. "Earvin understood it was a problem, but it was just his personality. He couldn't help that everyone loved him. He was such an easy guy to gravitate towards, and sometimes that was difficult for his teammates."

Kelser rarely vocalized his frustrations. He and Johnson were great friends and spent many nights dancing at the clubs in Lansing together. Yet Heathcote detected hints of Kelser's mindset in the locker room.

"Greg was always into his stats," Heathcote said. "We'd pass the sheet out after the game, and Earvin wouldn't even look at it. But Greg would devour that thing. He'd say, 'They've only got me down for six rebounds. I thought I had more, didn't you?'"

In 2006 Kelser published a book in which he detailed his memories of Michigan State's championship season. Included was a passage in which he discussed watching Magic score 20 points one night and becoming determined to score 25 himself the next time out so that Johnson wouldn't outshine him.

"There
was
jealousy," Magic said. "I didn't see it at the time, but I had stolen a lot of Greg's thunder. I didn't mean to. I didn't care about anything but winning.

"His comments in that book surprised me. He said I took away some of his glory. I was taken aback by that. It was kind of disappointing."

Kelser insists that he recognized Magic provided him with exposure he might not have ever received had he played without him and never meant to imply he wasn't grateful to his former teammate.

"I had no problem taking a back seat to Earvin," Kelser said. "But I did want to be recognized for what I accomplished. When our team was billed as 'Magic Johnson and the Michigan State Spartans,' I didn't appreciate that. But what was I going to do?"

The now famous Spartans team meeting is often cited as a catalyst to the team's turnaround, yet Heathcote believed that his decision to remove Ron Charles from the starting lineup and replace him with the smaller, quicker Mike Brkovich, who was a better shooter, had as much to do with the resurgence of his team as anything.

Teams had begun to recognize how damaging it was to allow Magic to grab the rebound off a miss and start the break himself. They adjusted by assigning a player to him with one specific goal in mind: block him out.

Brkovich provided another outlet pass and ball handler to facilitate the transition game. Heathcote also intended to make another change—to send Terry Donnelly to the bench and insert the freshman Busby into the starting lineup. But before Heathcote could promote him, Busby abruptly quit the team. He was homesick, bothered by his coach's gruff demeanor and his constant use of profanity. Busby decided a change of scenery was in order.

He transferred to Ferris State and performed well there, but Busby never came remotely close to winning a national championship—or making his projected jump to the pros.

"I'll always wonder what Gerald Busby was thinking," Magic admitted.

After the meeting and the lineup change, the Spartans ripped off wins in 10 of their final 11 games.

The lone loss down the stretch came when Wisconsin's Wes Matthews (who would later become Magic's NBA teammate for the 1987–88 championship in Los Angeles) connected on a wild last-second bank shot at the buzzer in the season finale, 82–80.

Initially, the last-second defeat stung the Spartans, who truly believed they were not going to lose another game. Kelser remembers that his teammates were uncommonly deflated before Magic started to work the room, pounding backs and whacking shoulders.

"It's okay, their season is over," Johnson told them. "We still have business to take care of."

Knocking off Indiana State was at the top of their list. Bird's team was the number-one overall seed in the field of 40, an astounding transformation for a school that had averaged less than 3,000 fans a game before he arrived.

Indiana State knew its fortunes had changed when the students who used to play on the courts after practice began showing up earlier and earlier. After a while, the number of people watching them work out had swelled to over 100 and Hodges was forced to close practice. That did not deter the "gym rats" from showing up anyway.

"I'd look through the windows on the gym doors, and you could see all these heads jostling to get a look," said Dr. Bob Behnke, the team trainer.

By the end of the season, fans were lining up outside the Hulman Center at 3:30
P.M.
for a 7:30 game. Since the student section did not have assigned seats, when the doors opened at 6:00, there was a mad rush for the open spots. The fans were allowed into the gym in the middle level of a three-tier building. Bird and his teammates would stand in the tunnel on the first level and watch as their fellow students stampeded one another to get a better view of their beloved basketball team.

More often than not, the effort was worth it. Early in the season in a two-point game against Illinois State, Hodges called a time-out in the final seconds with the score tied and Indiana State in possession of the ball. Behnke remembered watching Hodges draw up an elaborate play on his chalkboard that involved double screens and back picks.

Nicks was assigned the task of inbounding the ball. As he and Bird walked out of the huddle and toward the court, Behnke heard Bird say to his friend, "Hey, Carl, just get it to me."

"So I did," Nicks said. "And you know what happened. Larry scored to win it."

The most titillating victory of the year, however, featured Bird in a supporting role. By February 1, 1979, Indiana State had won 18 in a row, but in a game with New Mexico State they were trailing by 2 points with 3 seconds to play. The Aggies' Greg Webb was at the line, while Bird and Nicks were stuck on the bench, having fouled out of the game.

Hodges called time-out, reminded his players to stay levelheaded,
then went about divvying up responsibilities for the final seconds. Heaton, who was in the game, waited for his assignment, but in all the confusion Hodges had neglected to tell him where to go.

As each team broke from their huddle, the partisan New Mexico State crowd leaped to its feet bellowing, "18–1! 18–1!" Slab Jones, their star, sauntered past the Indiana State bench ribbing Bird and Nicks, "Too bad your streak is over."

Heaton, unsure of where to go, hustled underneath the team's basket, then realized he was too deep and would have no time to shoot even if he did get the ball. He migrated to half-court and waited.

Webb's free throw clanged short. ISU's Brad Miley controlled the rebound and quickly relayed it to Heaton. The player Bird affectionately called "Heater" didn't hesitate: he hoisted a 50-foot bomb just before the buzzer sounded.

"I thought it was going clear over the backboard," Heaton said.

Heaton groaned. The ball started its descent and, incredibly, banked in.

The shot pulled the plug on the New Mexico State celebration. Indiana State had improbably forced overtime, then went on to win in the extra frame.

"When New Mexico State scored their first basket of the overtime, no one even clapped," Heaton observed. "They were done."

Bird was elated for Heaton, a grinder with limited speed who compensated for it by making good decisions on the floor. It was also encouraging to see reserve Rich Nemcek make a couple of meaningful plays in a game of that magnitude.