“Y’all put it on the front page, back page, middle page, wherever: headliners, column one or two. We will win game two.”
“You’re not backing off?”
Rasheed stared down at the reporter.
“We will win game two.”
After losing to the Indiana Pacers two days before, Rasheed Wallace strolled into practice preparing for the second game of a series that would define the Detroit Pistons as champions of the NBA. Reporters swarmed him, but he already seemed to have his mindset: he knew what he was going to say and he had no care as to what they would say back. I believe he thought it would have to be his will that would bring his team the win. It was now set in stone.
In 2004, I worked at a factory that made plastic marine accessories—seat and table hardware, water systems, and ventilation. This was mundane, toilsome work. The plastic parts would mold in this monstrous machine, the two metal sections that molded the plastic would open up, the formed plastic would fall onto a conveyor belt, the part would roll up and I would inspect it for flaws and then either keep it or toss it in a bin. Yeah—I needed an escape from that and the Detroit Pistons were that escape for me. Whenever I turned on a Pistons game, I entered a different world. My entire self hinged on a game that would decide how the rest of my day would go.
When I turned on ESPN and heard what Wallace said, my eyelids stretched and my shoulders dropped. They would have to win or they would look like fools. We would look like fools. Everyone outside of Michigan now believed they would lose, or wanted them to lose. So what did Rasheed Wallace know that everyone else didn’t?
Let’s skip back in time to the commentary on the final minute of the game. Brad Nessler covered the play-by-play. Doc Rivers was the color commentator.
Detroit is up, 69-67. Detroit Pistons’, Chauncy Billups crosses the half-court line with 40.8 seconds left in the game and with 20 seconds left on the shot clock. Billups passes the ball to Rip Hamilton who passes it to Rasheed Wallace who attempts a shot.
Brad Nessler: Hamilton trying to get free of Miller on the baseline, gave it back to Wallace. O’Neil blocked it!
Indiana Pacers’, Jermain O’Neil blocks the ball off of the backboard, it bounces off of another player’s hands and ends up just beyond the half-court line where Billups retrieves it back. When Billups has the ball there are only 5 seconds left on the shot clock.
Nessler: Four on the shot clock, I don’t know if Billups knows that.
Billups goes to shoot, but the ball is immediately knocked out of his arms and ends up in the Indiana Pacers’, Jamaal Tinsley’s hands.
Nessler: He lost the handle! From Tinsley to Reggie Miller.
Detroit Pistons’, Tayshaun Prince begins sprinting down from half-court, catching up with Reggie Miller who was going for the layup, he jumped …
Nessler: And it’s blocked again!
Doc Rivers: Wow! What a block!
Nessler: How did Prince get there?
Rivers: What a block! I didn’t think there was any way possible for him to get this block!
Nessler: He’s ten rows into the crowd.
Rivers: I’ll tell you what, he laid out his entire body for this play. Reggie Miller had a five-step advantage on him—there was no way he could get to this ball!
But he did get to it. I believe he got the block, not just for his team, but those words “we will win game two” were resounding in his head. Those words must have influenced his drive to block that ball.
Rip Hamilton recovered the ball, got fouled, and ended up at the free-throw line. 14.6 seconds remained in the game. Hamilton sinks both shots and the Pistons go on to win.
Marcus Aurelius, a stoic philosopher, wrote a book called Meditations in the early 170s while he was leading a series of military campaigns against Germanic tribes along the Danube River. In this book, he wrote, “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” Our setbacks aren’t setting us back—they’re showing us something more. There are no worst-case scenarios, there are only scenarios and with each scenario that we live through, we learn from. That’s the power of not getting what we want, or what we think we deserve. I would even say that when we don’t get what we want, we learn more than if we did.
Is this what Rasheed Wallace knew?
I believe he knew that it didn’t matter if they won or lost. They would simply play the game, but he needed his teammate’s unrelenting faith that they would win. Let the nay-sayers talk.
If they didn’t win game two, Rasheed Wallace had two choices: he would grow bitter and resentful from the post-game interviews and the taunts from the opposing fans. Or, he would ignore the taunts and be there for his teammates, help them learn from the experience, the experience of losing, of failing, and then grow, mature, and become better players. Then win the next game and the next. I believe Rasheed knew that—he must’ve known that. Why else would he have made such a bold proclamation? He needed his teammates to believe they could win, that there was no doubt. He would have led them even if they lost.
These are only my assumptions of what he knew, but I’m sure I’m right. Rasheed Wallace was the second coming of Marcus Aurelius.