Billups proves to be one of league's most valuable players

ON BASKETBALL

Give yourself a slap on the back if, way back in November, you saw this one coming:

The Detroit Pistons, with their six consecutive trips to the Eastern Conference finals, swept -- in embarrassing fashion -- in the first round of the NBA playoffs.

And, just as shocking, the Denver Nuggets, with their five straight first-round exits and not a run past that round since 1994, in the Western Conference finals -- even getting there before the West's heavily favored Los Angeles Lakers (who face a do-or-die Game 7 against Houston Sunday).

I, for one, didn't see it happening.

Which means, of course, that I was among the minions who didn't grasp just how valuable of a player Chauncey Billups is.

Because adding Billups, really, is all that changed personnel-wise for the Nuggets. He came over from Detroit along with Antonio McDyess, who ended up back in the Motor City, and Allen Iverson -- and all his talent -- was shipped to Detroit.

On the surface, the Pistons were getting the better player, the more athletic player, the more accomplished player.

Except for one thing -- Billups has an NBA title, not to mention a Finals MVP, while Iverson has none (and, at this point, it looks like he'll retire without a ring).

The reason for this is simple: Billups runs a team better, way better, than Iverson. He gets along better with his teammates, he helps foster a good camaraderie in the locker room.

And he builds a winning environment built on solid self-confidence.

That's the way these Nuggets, who are an impressive 8-2 in the playoffs -- a record only bested by Cleveland's dominant 8-0 mark -- are playing. They've got a swagger about them that says, "Bring it," but at the same time, they're playing with a looseness that you'd associate with an underdog.

And, believe me, they have a 50-50 shot of making the Finals, regardless of whether they take on the mighty Lakers or the Yao- and T-Mac-less, upstart Rockets in the next round.

Meanwhile, the other result of the trade was a mess. It was no secret that Joe Dumars, the Pistons G.M., had no intention of holding on to Iverson after this season. The trade was more of a looking-to-the-future move, aimed at creating valuable cap space to sign a big-time free agent.

But no one thought the Iverson Experiment would go so poorly, with the one-time MVP never fitting in with his Detroit teammates and eventually calling it a season with a purported back injury.

He'll, more than likely, end up in a starting backcourt next season. But don't expect an Iverson-led team to ever smell the Finals again.

We'll have to leave that to Billups, 32, who has looked anything but aged and worn down this season. Along with Carmelo Anthony, Kenyon Martin, J.R. Smith and other valuable role players, it's not unrealistic to expect the Nuggets to make deep runs into the playoffs for a good three or four years.

Who, in November, saw that coming?

It's not too far-reaching of a statement to say the Nuggets are a completely different team since the trade.

And the following is a factual statement: Only one NBA player has made a conference finals series the last seven years.

That man is Chauncey Billups.

Sure, he's been blessed with great talent around him in Detroit and Denver. But neither team was close to being a title contender before he joined it. And while Rasheed Wallace was a big mid-season acquisition for the Pistons during their championship run, there was still no questioning who led them to the upset of the Lakers in the Finals.

Anthony is clearly the Nuggets' most talented player, and even Smith is more explosive than Billups, but the point guard is the team's most indispensable player.

Just look how far -- or, not so far -- Denver got during 'Melo's first five seasons.

Now, the team is just four games away from reaching the Finals with a chance to win its first NBA crown.

And, appropriately, it would be led to that title by a hometown hero who continues to prove his worth to even those outside of his home state.

Just ask the Pistons how valuable he is.

Pistons' wasted season comes to an ugly conclusion

ON BASKETBALL

If you're a Pistons fan and you thought the end of the past four seasons since the 2004 championship were frustrating, you were spoiled.

Badly.

Because the end of this Pistons campaign had to be the epitome of frustrating for anyone associated with the franchise. Detroit had it string of six straight Eastern Conference finals appearances snapped in ugly fashion, getting swept by the Cavaliers in a completely one-sided series.

All the games were decided by double figures. None of them, really, were ever in doubt. Even when the Pistons were in a game, it was usually because likely NBA MVP LeBron James was on Cleveland's bench getting a nice, long rest before coming back in to finish the job.

Detroit was the first team eliminated from the playoffs, which technically makes sense. After all, it had the worst regular-season record of the 16 teams and was playing against the team with the league's best mark.

If anything, the nine-day series -- which probably could have taken place in about six days and saved everyone a few wasted ones -- proved that as long as the 82-game regular season is, it shouldn't be taken for granted.

Throughout the season, we kept hearing the Pistons say that they didn't think they were far from becoming a good team, from developing a strong chemistry. I guess talk is cheap (I think I've heard that before).

What actually happened -- what actually matters -- is that the group of players led by rookie coach Michael Curry and second-year point guard Rodney Stuckey, who is more of a hybrid, never clicked. Never. Sure, there were a couple minor winning streaks, but no groove was ever found.

And that's what is needed to be a good playoff team. That's what is needed in playoff games, when things aren't necessarily going well, to turn momentum in your favor.

These Pistons never found that.

That's what has to be frustrating to everybody associated with the team.

And they underachived, plain and simple.

It's easy to point to the trade of Chauncey Billups to the Denver Nuggets for Allen Iverson as the main reason the Pistons fell apart, and that certainly hurt the team -- especially considering Iverson never fit in the rotation and then was lost for the season to a purported back injury.

But even sans Billups, this team should have been better than the eighth seed in the East. This team should have been a middle seed that at least got close to making the second round.

Consider the players on the Pistons who were a part of many, if not all, of those conference finals runs -- Richard Hamilton, Rasheed Wallace, Tayshaun Prince and Antonio McDyess in the starting lineup.

Those four, plus Stuckey and an improved bench, should have been enough for the Pistons.

But Curry struggled mightily to develop the team sans Billups, and the veterans simply didn't play up to their capabilities.

Hamilton had a hot streak after Iverson went out, but he didn't maintain it down the stretch. And Wallace and Prince simply often didn't show up to do what they were supposed to.

Curry deserves a lot of blame, but the Pistons veterans should have known what they had to do to make the team successful. Heck, they're almost as old as Curry.

What it boils down to is a lost season, a season that needs to be forgotten by the organization as quickly as possible and moved on from.

And now, really, it is clear that changes are needed.

That was the rhetoric after each of the last couple years ended in the conference finals, and that talk probably helped fuel the Billups-Iverson deal. And look how that worked out.

This season proved that when you have something pretty good -- not perfect, but very solid -- you need to really think before breaking off a big piece of it.

Now Joe Dumars needs to break off some more pieces -- mainly Wallace and Iverson -- and try to build up a consistent winner again. It's almost akin to the job he originally inherited.

Is Prince unmovable? I wouldn't think so. What about Stuckey? Can he run the point for an NBA championship team? That's another question to consider.

A long, busy offseason looms for Dumars and his aides.

And it must be welcoming, considering the way this lost season went.

Pistons rediscover winning formula minus the 'Answer'

ON BASKETBALL

These are the Detroit Pistons we know, the group of players we'd grown accustomed to watching win 50-plus games a season.

Yeah, Chauncey Billups made sure to play one of his best games on Tuesday in his return to The Palace of Auburn Hills as a Denver Nugget — a "You shouldn't have let me go" performance.

But his team lost the game, 100-95. And it was Detroit's third straight victory, getting it back to above .500 at 30-29.

In the grand scheme of the past several years, of successful regular seasons piled on top of each other, three straight wins should be nothing to this franchise.

But not these three. By beating Orlando and Boston on the road and the Nuggets at home, the Pistons proved that they're still a team to be reckoned with in the Eastern Conference.

As long as they're aligned right, that is.

Because what the trio of W's has made crystal clear, more than anything else, is that Detroit is at its best not like, well, it was previously constructed (if that makes any sense).

During the franchise's darkest days since the early '90s, which culminated last week with an eighth consecutive loss, rookie head coach Michael Curry made the grand error of starting future Hall-of-Famer Allen Iverson.

Seems like a smart move, right? Putting the four-time NBA scoring champion in the lineup couldn't hurt, right?

Very, very wrong.

Because, for one, that meant sending Richard "Rip" Hamilton to the bench for the first time, probably, since he was a skinny kid hoopin' in Coatesville, Pa.

On the surface, Curry's move is mildly understandable. Iverson is, after all, the more explosive player, the guy who can do more things. To simplify, the better overall player.

But what Curry didn't realize in making the move is what the effect on the team's synergy would be. And that, folks, was his big mistake.

As good as Iverson is, he doesn't fit with the Pistons' other starters. Too often in games, Iverson would be on the perimeter dribbling the ball through his legs 1,097 times while the other four guys watched. There'd be no on-court chemistry, a lack of movement and team basketball.

In L.A. that might work, but not in Detroit. The Pistons have always won with team basketball.

Which brings me back to Hamilton, who knows the tendencies of starters Tayshaun Prince, Rasheed Wallace and Antonio McDyess like he knows the roads of Coatesville. They've been winning, after all, for several seasons together.

Rip is not as familiar with the bench players he often took the court with during his stint as a bench player — youngsters like Arron Afflalo and Amir Johnson.

So what the move did was weaken the Pistons' starting lineup and their bench rotation.

The losses followed.

And they might have saved a going-nowhere-fast season.

Last week, with the L's mounting — and some critics already calling for Curry's ouster — Iverson made the coach's decision easy by hurting his back in Detroit's 90-87 loss at New Orleans.

And, just like that, Hamilton was back where he belonged.

Of course, Curry hasn't actually done anything yet, because Iverson is still hurting. But it's clear that when he returns, he'll be coming off the bench. Rip is back in the starting lineup for good.

And if A.I. accepts his role, he has a chance to become the most dynamic sixth man in the league. No other team has any player close to Iverson's caliber starting games sitting.

That's what could make Detroit dangerous. It's already proven during this three-game stretch how good it can be sans Iverson. It could cause some serious havoc if Iverson embraces running with the second-tier guys, acting as their leader.

No, I don't see the Pistons getting by both Cleveland and Boston to the Finals. But compared to the destination I had them pegged for just a week ago, their prospects are now rosy.

Iverson has said repeatedly the past few years that all he's missing is an NBA championship. He also knows that he'll be gone after this season, dumped into the free agency market when teams are stuffing their pockets for 2010.

So there is plenty of incentive for him, just like Stephon Marbury, to make the most of his new niche on a team capable of doing some pretty big things.

And even if the end of the season is another disappointing playoff exit, these Pistons should be able to look forward and feel confident with the future's pillars — Hamilton, Prince and point guard Rodney Stuckey — in the starting five and playing well together.

Trading Billups still might have been a mistake. The past week hasn't completely erased the trade's effect.

But it's shown that maybe, just maybe, these Pistons — present and future — will by successful without their former Mr. Big Shot.

Now is the time for Curry to tinker

ON BASKETBALL

Relax, Pistons fans. Yes, your team isn't exactly putting together winning streaks. Yes, the 11-6 record isn't up to the standard of the past six seasons. And yes, those stinking Cleveland Cavaliers and their New York-loving superstar are up three and a half games on your team in the Central Division...

Relax. Because every fact from the above paragraph has almost no meaning.

Here's what does matter: The Pistons will be back in the playoffs come springtime. I'd bet this nice laptop plus my car on that.

Here's what else is important: First-year coach Michael Curry knows what he's doing. He's performing admirably at focusing on the regular season, but simultaneously keeping his eyes on the only objective that really matters for this recently underachieving franchise: making it back to the NBA Finals and winning a championship.

Curry knew what he was getting into when he accepted Joe Dumars' blessing. A 60-22 regular season might be nice for a day, but coupled with another exit from the Eastern Conference finals, it would mean nothing and impress no one. The same can be said of winning another division title or even finishing with the conference's and/or league's best record.

Who cares?

Curry knows all this, and that's why — even here in early December, when the playoffs seem decades away — he is thinking ahead with each game. He won't admit that, but he's simply doing his job.

And that entails establishing a rotation of players he can trust come mid-April. Not just five starters and maybe a sixth man, but a larger group of players who have all played substantially and will have the ability to play big minutes — if needed — when the games count most.

The plebe coach showed off his willingness to play anyone in a loss the other night to the Portland Trail Blazers. When a lineup that included reserves Amir Johnson, Rodney Stuckey and Arron Afflalo made a run to give the Pistons a brief fourth-quarter lead, Curry stuck with his backups and left starting small forward Tayshaun Prince on the bench the entire final quarter.

Detroit went on to lose, and Prince didn't understand why he hadn't been reinserted, but Curry backed up his decision by saying Prince hadn't played well. And the numbers verify his impact on the game: Detroit was outscored by 23 points while he was on the floor.

This doesn't mean, of course, that Prince is less talented than Johnson or couldn't have helped lead Detroit to victory. But Curry went with the players who had gotten their team back in the game. And despite the loss, the trio had to gain confidence from knowing that their coach believed in them to make plays during crunch time. (And, again, the outcomes at this point don't matter so much.)

The move to go with his reserves wasn't isolated, either — although I wouldn't expect starters to sit out too many more entire fourth quarters of close games. Curry said earlier in the week that he expects to continue to cut his starters' playing time at least a little bit. This is a smart move in two respects.

One, it keeps the older starting lineup more fresh. Allen Iverson said recently that he can't find his rhythm playing fewer minutes than he's averaged during his career. Well, the 33-year-old has 65 games to figure out how to find it. That's the benefit of the Pistons' trade for the superstar happening so early in the season.

Rasheed Wallace and Richard Hamilton need to be ready to play their best basketball, not to mention be healthy as can be, come playoff time. It's no secret that the Pistons go as Wallace goes. If he's playing well and finds the range from behind the 3-point arc, Detroit is a very dangerous team.

The Pistons are even more potent when they're getting consistent production from their bench. As we saw in last year's playoffs, Stuckey can play with and against the top dogs and isn't afraid of big-time situations. With the benefit of more minutes under his belt, he'll only become better. Afflalo has shown he can not only lock down on defense, but he can shoot the ball too. He just needs the minutes in real-game situations to become more confident in that part of his game.

Detroit will surely benefit from the return of Antonio McDyess — and his mid-range shooting ability — when he returns off waivers probably next week, but it would be smart to bring him off the bench. By inserting him into the lineup instead of current starter Kwame Brown, Curry would effectively have his five best offensive players beginning the game on the court.

I don't like it. At least one forward and one guard who can score need to be stashed on the bench so that when games start out poorly for the starting five, they can be inserted to provide a "spark," an offensive shot to the arm. When McDyess returns, he'll be Detroit's lone reliable scorer at the forward position off the pine (if, indeed, that's where he begins games).

Of course, there remain 65 games for Johnson, Brown and Jason Maxiell to get valuable experience and gain confidence for the postseason. And with the way Curry's coaching this team, I expect to see some positive gains from them. If nothing else, he'll determine who he can trust in tight spots.

So, relax, Pistons fans. A loss in December means close to nothing.

Unless, of course, it puts the Lions closer to 0-16.

Letting a name and tradition fool you

ON BASEBALL

It's an easy trap to fall into, so I won't laugh at a friend for the text messages he sent me after Boston's wins over Tampa Bay in Game 5 of the ALCS Thursday night and Game 6 Saturday night.

After Boston's improbable 8-7 comeback for the ages Thursday: "Well that sucks that might break the Rays."

During Boston's hotly contested 4-2 win Saturday, when I texted him that I smelled a Game 7: "It will happen and tampa will probably lose which sucks."

My friend wasn't the only one. Without doing a lick of research, I can guarantee you that even with Boston down 3-2 and needing two wins in St. Petersburg, a good portion of this country smelled two Boston wins. I'll bet my house — OK, I don't own a house; but you get the point — that prior to Game 7 Sunday, the majority of America thought Boston had another World Series berth in the bag.

The reasons for these thoughts? It's very simple, actually: name recognition and tradition. In other words, Boston had won two World Series in four seasons; Tampa hadn't sniffed the postseason ... ever. Fenway Park is one of the most recognized sports venues in the country and hundreds of books have been written about the Red Sox; the Rays haven't even been the "Rays" for a year and have only been a franchise for 11 seasons.

To make a bad analogy, you walk into a store to buy a six-pack. On one rack is Samuel Adams (no Boston connection intended). You know what you'd be getting. You've sipped hundreds of SAs over the years. On the other rack is an ale you've only seen at a party yet. You took one from a friend, but you aren't convinced you want to buy it yourself.

You take the Sam Adams simply because of its name and your history of drinking it.

It's a poor call. Just like giving up on the Rays to win the ALCS after their Game 6 loss.

The series went seven games, but the Rays dominated the first six games. There was no arguing that they weren't the better team. Just examine Games 3 through 6, because the first two games — Boston 2-0, Tampa 9-8 in 11 innings — cancel each other out as very tight ballgames.

Tampa dominated Games 3 and 4, both at Fenway, by scores of 9-1 and 13-4. Their hitters owned Boston pitching, sending seven balls out of the park and slamming 27 hits. The big bats in Boston's lineup, primarily David Ortiz and Dustin Pedroia, were as silent as Red Sox Nation during the blowouts.

We all know what happened in Game 5. The Rays dominated the game for six innings before two big Bostons swings, by Ortiz and , got the Red Sox back into the game after being down 7-0. A couple clutch hits later, Boston had an 8-7 victory.

Game 6 was a close contest throughout, with the most unlikely of home runs by Boston catcher Jason Veritek — his first and only hit of the series — and a Tampa Bay error allowing Boston to turn a 2-2 game into a 4-2 victory. It was a solid victory, closed out by Boston's bullpen, but in no way was it backbreaking. In no way was it a "Don't even bother showing up at the ballpark tomorrow" kind of win.

So the Rays showed up Sunday, loose and confident like they should have been. Of course they couldn't forget what had transpired the previous three days, but hey, they were still a game away from the Fall Classic. That's the attitude the precocious team took, and it worked wonders.

There was never a sense of panic, a whiff of desperation. When asked after Tampa's 3-1 Game 7 victory to "honestly" say whether there was doubt in the clubhouse, winning pitcher Matt Garza said there wasn't. I believe him.

You see, it's one thing when you get lucky in a game or two and squeak out a couple other games to get to a Game 7. In that scenario, it's hard for a team to be completely sure of itself. Living on the edge will do that to you. But entering Game 7, the Rays — have I said this already? — were the better team; they were the superior team during 162 regular-season games, and they were for the first six games of the series.

Still, the money was on Boston because it's, well, "Boston." I can't say I blame people. I'm no betting man, but with my minimal income, it would have been tough to bet on the Rays Sunday.

It happens in all sports all the time. The newcomer to the grand stage is written off — again, and again and again. Never mind that they've proven themselves countless times. Until they win that first championship, people doubt they have the chutzpah to pull it off.

Just look at the Pistons' easy series win over the Lakers in the 2004 NBA Finals. People kept doubting the unfamiliar group of Detroit players, even as they dominated the familiar Lakers. Picking Kobe and Shaq, and their three previous championships, was easier (and, of course, just plain dumb, especially after wins by Detroit in Games 1, 3 and 4).

It occurs in college sports as well. I was inside Michigan Stadium last year when Appalachian State knocked off the mighty Wolverines. Even as the Wildcats led Michigan for most of the game, there was a sense among the Big House faithful that it couldn't possibly happen. That a tiny school from Boone, N.C., couldn't knock off fabled Michigan.

We all know what transpired.

And now the Rays are in the World Series, and anyone who continues to doubt them — regardless of how they fare in the World Series — is a complete nut job.

In fact, barring major offseason developments, anyone who doesn't predict the Rays to repeat as American League East champs next season will be disillusioned as well. With a super young team full of improving starting pitchers and everyday guys who play great defense, run the bases well and have power ... well, this team is here to stay for the long haul.

Oh, and did I mention that the man on the mound for Boston's final four outs Sunday was a kid, 23, who had pitched in a whopping five regular-season games?

Yep, that's right. David Price isn't going anywhere. And neither are most of his teammates.

You can doubt them if you want. Go ahead and pick the older Yankees or Red Sox to win the division next year.

Just know that you'll likely be basing your prediction more on the past than what's actually the case today.

And you probably won't be the only one.

Don't dismiss Kwame Brown just yet

ON BASKETBALL

When Joe Dumars pledged to "shake things up" this summer, this wasn't exactly what you were expecting.

OK, that's a guess. But I'm pretty confident in it. By all means, tell me if I'm off base. But signing serial underachiever Kwame Brown to a two-year contract doesn't exactly give the Pistons a fresh identity heading into the 2008-09 season.

And that's just fine. That's not the point of the move. There's still time for more serious shaking up to occur -- maybe even during the season.

But let's talk about this deal while it has the spotlight. What's the first word that pops into your head when the two words "Kwame Brown" are mentioned?

Scrub.

Malcontent.

Immature.

Lazy.

All true, but you could also throw out the following:

Potential.

Athletic.

Young.

Those three words are why this deal makes sense. Dumars is making a minimal investment in a guy who could either dedicate himself to being a strong role player on a contending team, or remain the staple of inconsistency he's been his first seven years in the league.

If the former is true, then great. The Pistons definitely need depth and size in their frontcourt. The 6-foot-11, 270-pound Brown provides that. Rasheed Wallace and Antonio McDyess aren't getting any younger or stronger. Big bodies shouldn't be taken for granted.

Of course, if the latter is true, then no biggie. The Pistons can dump Brown after two seasons -- if he chooses to pick up the option for his second year. They would only have lost $8 million on Brown. No, not exactly a disastrous New York Knicks contract.

If you think $4 million a year is a lot for a role player, then you're behind the times. That's what NBA veterans make these days. And if they don't receive offers for such money, they bolt for Europe. This summer has seen as many NBA players sign with European teams as foreign players join the league from abroad.

It's all about the money. And paying $4 million a year for a young big man with some potential is a worthy investment.

Do I think Brown is going to turn around his career in Auburn Hills? It's really hard to tell. My gut tells me no. But it's certainly the best situation for him. He'll be pushed by new Pistons coach Michael Curry, who won't take any indolence from him. He'll receive plenty of instruction from veterans Wallace and McDyess, but he won't be berated and demeaned like he was by Michael Jordan during his tumultuous time in Washington.

As witnessed by Jason Maxiell's maturation into a very solid frontcourt player off the bench, Detroit is a good place for a player like Brown. With Maxiell and the young Amir Johnson on the Pistons' bench, Brown will have to fight for every minute of playing time. There will be no free minutes. Being in an environment ripe with talented players will force Brown to dedicate himself to the game if he wants to become part of the rotation.

All good things.

And Brown has solid potential. OK, not No. 1 pick potential, which is what M.J. (somehow) saw in him. But with the right work ethic and environment, Brown could become a critical part of the Pistons' charge to finally return to the NBA Finals. He has the size and athletic ability. He just needs a lot of fine-tuning.

Do I like Kwame Brown as a player? Nope.

Would I call him a scrub right now? Yeah, though not to his face.

But Dumars, like most of the time, knew what he was doing.

He made a low-risk investment.

It could have no return. It could net a big return.

Only time will tell.

Pistons remain the beasts of the East

ON BASKETBALL

In the early stages of Wednesday's Eastern Conference showdown between 20-2 Boston and 17-7 Detroit, the young point guard was playing better.

He was getting to the basket at will. He was spotting up for mid-range jumpers. He was playing turnover-free basketball, while the veteran — with his new five-year contract — carelessly lost the ball on the other end.

Yes, Boston's Rajon Rondo was the star of the first quarter, helping the Celtics establish a lead they would hold for most of the night.

But the Pistons rarely get blown out, especially in highly-hyped, national-televised games. And such was the case Wednesday.

First, there was 37-year-old point guard Lindsey Hunter harassing Eddie House all the way down the court, creating two turnovers and knocking down a guarded 3 to help Detroit take the lead.

And, finally, there was that veteran PG, the man called "Mr. Big Shot" — a moniker that fit very nicely on this night. After Boston tied the game with two 3-pointers in the final minute, there was Billups, with just a second to get off his shot, giving a most convincing head fake...

And poor Tony Allen. He had no chance. Caught in the air, he fouled Billups at the worst time: with 0.1 left on the clock. Billups is a 91 percent free-throw shooter.

I don't usually pencil in games — especially ones that are tied. But when Billups stepped to the line, I said to my dad — who was on the phone watching from Michigan — "That's the ballgame."

And two free throws later, the Pistons (18-7) remained the Beasts of the East.

Not that any game in December really matters. We all know nothing is proved until May and June. That's why Phoenix could sweep San Antonio during the regular season and I'd still bet my two sofas on the Spurs come the playoffs.

But with both teams playing close to full strength — the Pistons were without rookie guard Rodney Stuckey, who has missed the entire season so far — a lot can be gleaned from the Pistons' 87-85 win.

— These teams, easily the East's best two squads, will be very competitive the rest of the year and into the playoffs. There are too many big-time players on both teams.

— The Pistons should have posted Billups on Rondo more early and often. Likely because of this advantage, Boston coach Doc Rivers pulled Rondo in the final two minutes for House, who also has 3-point range, unlike Rondo, and hit a big one as part of Boston's comeback.

— Detroit was saved by the 3-point shot, making 9-of-20 from downtown. Boston was the more physical team, outrebounding Detroit 37-34 and getting to the basket more often. The Pistons won't always shoot that well from 3-point range.

— The Pistons were able to slow down Kevin Garnett when they put the physical, bulky Jason Maxiell on him. Although Garnett scored a team-high 26 points, he had just five in the fourth, all of which he had to earn from the free-throw line.

— Another reason Detroit was able to hold the Celtics to just 33 second-half points was Tayshaun Prince's defense of Paul Pierce. While Prince was awful offensively (1-of-10, 2 points), he held Boston's leading scorer to 11 points on 5-for-16 shooting. With Prince on Pierce, Maxiell coming in to bang with Garnett, and Richard Hamilton draped over Ray Allen, Detroit can at least contain the Big Three — although Allen was near unstoppable, hitting 9-of-13 contested shots for 24 points.

— Rondo (14 points, 7 assists, 2 turnovers) was very efficient, but as seen by Rivers' late substitution, the coach still doesn't have complete confidence in the second-year player's ability to make the right decisions at the end of a game. But overall, Rondo was impressive.

So there you have it. Before the game, the Celtics admitted that Detroit is still the team to beat in the East, and Wednesday's result doesn't change that.

When the Pistons are on their game and aren't letting their yapping at the referees — they complain about every stinkin' call — get in the way of their execution, they are hard to beat. They're a great road team that isn't flustered by noisy crowds and fourth-quarter deficits.

And, most importantly, they have Mr. Big Shot. Boston doesn't.

In the course of a game, the Big Three might be more effective than Billups. But if he and his teammates can stay in a game until the end, it is worth betting on Billups hitting the winning shot or drawing the crucial foul in the final seconds.

Wednesday's game was unpredictable for the first 47:59. What occurred in the final second, however, wasn't surprising at all. Mr. Big Shot to the rescue.