The Lakers and the Celtics.
So many memories, so many golden moments.
The Celtics and Bill Russell always winning
when they met for the championship.
For the Lakers, Jerry West,
always magnificent in defeat.
Now, the rivalry is back, but the faces have changed.
It's the dream match-up.
Larry Bird and the Boston Celtics.
Is Bird the best all-around player in the game today?
A lot of folks think so.
But if he isn't, Magic Johnson of the Los Angeles Lakers is.
And if Magic isn't driving to the basket,
he'll be passing to the likes of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.
Welcome then to the Boston Garden
and the start of the NBA World Championship Series.
And the Los Angeles Lakers have taken game one
in Boston, behind 18 points from Magic Johnson.
And the Celtics...
We got one, y'all!
Hey, we got this shit in the bag! Let's go!
Shit!
Go! Go! Get us the fuck outta here!
- Go! Let's go! - Fuck you!
Eat a dick!
Get the fuck outta here, you pussies!
Hey, I ain't never seen Mitch run that fast, bro.
Hey. Fucked them on they own flo'.
They gon' be even madder when we up 2-0.
Yes, they are!
Hey, great game.
Great game.
I said great game.
Thanks. Just the beginning.
Telling you, Coach, this right here feeling like a sweep.
We landed the first punch,
but they're back right now, making adjustments.
Game two, they're gonna come out throwing haymakers.
Yeah, well, whatever they do,
whatever Larry do, I'ma be ready.
So, it's just you and him?
Look, I know there's a lot of hoopla, a lot of bullshit.
You start focusing on that,
next time those people riot, it'll be for their parade.
Hey, Coach.
I appreciate the words. I do.
But you ain't gotta worry about me.
Alright.
Eighteen seconds to go, Keith,
and the Lakers find themselves
up by a basket with the ball and a chance
- to head home with a two-nothing lead. - Chick,
no team has ever lost the first two games at home
and come back to win a finals. Never happened.
Well, here we go, friends. It's nervous time here at the Garden
and this crowd is absolutely shell-shocked.
The Celtic faithful have been silenced by Magic Johnson
just one assist shy of a triple-double.
With a Celtic foul here, Keith, the Lakers
could ice this game from the charity stripe.
Worthy in to Magic. Bird coming in to trap.
And Magic back to Worthy.
And Worthy throws it away!
Henderson with the steal, and Celtics tie the game! My!
- Time! Time! - An ill-advised cross-court pass by Worthy.
Man, the ball has got to be in Magic's hands in that situation.
- Magic. Magic! - Hey, don't wanna hear that shit, man.
Okay, shake it off. Come on!
Bedlam in Boston, but it's not over yet.
The leprechaun at work
here at Boston Garden. Fabled things have happened,
and this will be one of them if the Celts win this game.
A steal by Gerald Henderson.
Thirteen seconds! We got the ball. It's the last shot.
Two-man game on the left for Magic and Cap.
I want a shot out before it hits five seconds.
Doo, I want you crashing the board. Hard if we miss.
- Yo, hit me on the wing. - Man, you hit the boards, too.
- Hey, listen up. - Just gimme the rock and get out the way, man.
Hey, let's go! Let's go!
Buck. Breathe.
The Lakers lead one to nothing in the best of seven,
trying to make it two-nothing
and going home with a big cushion.
- Larry Bird and company are trying to pull it out. - Beat LA!
I'll tell you, they'd be happy with overtime right about now, friends.
Beat LA! Beat LA! Beat LA!
- Ball! - Worthy inbounds to Byron Scott.
Watch the clock at the lower part of your screen.
They are looking for the big fella.
Buck! Throw me the fuckin' ball!
Magic Johnson keeps looking inside.
Two seconds. One second!
And they don't get it off!
- C’mon baby, let’s go! - Come on!
And we go to overtime.
And Keith, Magic really misjudged that clock.
Man.
Scott was open on the wing,
Kareem on the block, and Magic just froze.
Unbelievable.
He just... Y-You don't see that from him.
Beat LA! Beat LA!
Beat LA!
- Woo! That's right! - Tied up, baby!
Played your heart out, son.
More time, would have easily gone your way.
- Sorry, sweetheart. - I know. Thank y'all.
- What's up, Cook? - I'm sorry.
Let's go.
Hey, Cook.
Think you can hang back for a minute?
- Yeah, sure. - Thanks.
- Um... Um... - What?
- Love you, Cook. - I love you, too.
- Magic! - Earvin, what?
Frank, just tell her fucking lawyer
to get her in a room with us, and we'll talk this all out.
Well, you're in touch with them! Will you stop fucking worrying
about everything? It's gonna be fine.
I'll see you when I get home.
Yeah. Goodbye.
You don't read the signs? No smoking.
We spotted you one tonight.
Gave it away. Big difference.
- Red... - Hey.
You put together a great squad. Can't shit on that.
But great players, they come and go.
Well, I bet Bird would hate to hear you say that.
Yeah, sure. And Russell. And Havlicek. And Cousy.
But deep down, they all know that what we got here
is bigger than any of 'em.
A culture. A machine that takes potential
and turns it into greatness.
That's why when Bird's gone, there'll be another.
And another. And another.
- Well, how about when you go? - Not worried at all.
I built it to be bigger than me.
I told you, we're on a salary freeze.
I told the Kings.
Then why are they asking me to sign off on a 20% raise
for some fucking hockey goon I've never heard of?
His contract was up.
Somehow, he found out what the other guys were getting paid.
Somehow.
We need to talk.
Wow.
New look.
- Claire, have you met Jay? - Hi.
Yes! Kings defenseman Jay Wells.
Let me be the first to congratulate you
on your new deal.
Thanks!
Now, get out.
Cool.
Jeanie...
What the fuck are you doing?
- What? We're dating. - I don't give a shit who you date.
You gave payroll information to a player.
I made an executive decision.
I mean, w-we claim to care about our players,
so why hide behind some antiquated union rules
instead of paying them what they're actually worth?
Th-this buys us goodwill from the athletes,
and that is in the interest of California Sports.
Okay. And how about this?
Is this in the interest of California Sports?
I wanted a change.
You look great.
I don't know what happened.
It's like I was there...
and someplace else at the same time.
Like...
everything was comin' at me.
Then I look up.
Game was over.
Sounds like one of them UFOs.
You see it hovering above you.
Next thing, you wake up, it's tomorrow mornin'
and you got your pants around your ankles.
No, I'm just...
Earvin, you ask me,
you got too much bullshit in your noggin.
It's fuckin' with your focus.
Ain't never had that, though.
Bigger the game, clearer my head.
- And it can't be Larry. - Maybe that there's the problem right fuckin' there.
I mean, you wanna beat him so fuckin' bad,
you forget your teammates.
You put it square on you.
You tell yourself," they'll get their glory
once you done finish the winning."
- Hey, I ain't no selfish player! - Far from it!
You have a way of makin' everybody love to play the game.
But that's not what we saw the other night, is it?
It's these new dudes! They ain't been here before.
Come on.
My six finals.
I was just as good as Russell.
But every single fuckin' time, every single time,
shit broke his way. Some fuckin' no-name
which hits a fuckin' shot from fuckin' nowhere.
But, you see, Bill,
he had a way of makin' those no-names contribute.
Whereas me,
I was too busy focused on me.
I took whatever they gave me.
And that was my mistake.
Is that gonna be yours?
Yeah!
Down low! There you go!
Come on!
Slam dunk! My!
Seven Lakers in double digits.
Now, Magic, nothing left to do but cheer his teammates on
having set a finals record, 21 assists.
- He's something else. - Unbelievable.
The kid from Lansing, hot as a pistol tonight.
Larry, that was nearly the biggest blowout
- in finals history. How does that make you feel? - You're down 2-1.
It could easily have been 3-0. A-Are you concerned?
Yeah, Bird, are you frustrated?
You worried he's beating your ass again,
like in college, and there's nothing you can do about it?
We played like sissies!
I don't know how else to put it.
When you see Magic out there, slappin' high fives,
going behind his back,
them scorin' layups on us all day long.
You think at some point, someone would try to put a stop to it.
Keep playin' like this, we deserve to lose.
So you think it's attitude?
Your own teammates don't want it enough?
How do you fix that, Larry?
Get 12 heart transplants.
What would it hurt to get on the telephone with me?!
We can't have a conversation?
You know, I didn't ask these two fucking guys here.
Frank asked for the three of us because you wanted him here.
You perpetrated fraud against my client.
Honey.
Look at me.
You got these lizards in your ears. I'm sorry.
- I made a mistake. - You were fucking married.
JoAnn and I had a business relationship,
- and I meant to file... - You knew.
Look, it's not too late.
I'll buy you another art school.
We're far past that.
It's not about the fucking art school, Jerry.
It's about the lie!
I told you how hard it was for me to get my life together,
and you used that. You conned me...
into giving everything up
to dive into your bullshit fantasy
because that is what you do to people.
You are a fraud, Buss.
You've always been a fraud.
I'm just the first person to make you pay for it.
We'll see you in court.
You're gonna shit.
Stern just closed the cable deal with Turner.
Seventy-five guaranteed time slots. Guess how much?
Tell me 100 million.
What? No. A million a team.
That's not including CBS.
And with finals making record ratings,
I think we're gonna wind up having a quarter of our games
on national television.
That is because of you! Because you could see
what this league could be, and it's happening.
Who are they?
Did somebody croak? What's going on?
Jerry?
I mean, I wasn't fucking around on her, Claire.
She found out about this paperwork thing
that I should've taken care of. I didn't take care of it.
And so, now she's hired this fuckin' lawyer,
this Mitchelson asshole, and they wanna sue.
And they're not gonna get it, but they want $100 Million.
$100 million?
Which I don't even fuckin' have.
I know. It was dumb.
Marrying a girl you barely know? That's dumb.
Prohibition was dumb! This...
I-I don't know what I was thinking.
Okay?
I mean, I drew up that paperwork,
but when it came time to turn it in,
I-I couldn't do it!
How am I not surprised?
This is not somethin' you have to worry about.
- This is my problem. - Your problem?
It's my life!
If I oversee another bankruptcy,
they're not gonna let me run a high school gym, Jerry!
I will lose everything I've worked for!
- Because of you! - It's not gonna happen.
And it's not just me, you know.
It's every single person out there
who kills themselves for you!
And for this thing.
- Do you think about them? Yeah? - Of course. Yes!
You think about those people when you're just doing
whatever the fuck you want?!
When you're pulling this pathetic shit?!
I promise I'm gonna work it out!
I'm gonna work it out!
Claire!
Fuck you, Jerry!
Woo-hoo!
Time out, Boston, and listen to this fabulous Forum crowd.
That is sweet, sweet music to my ears.
The Lakers starting to run away with yet another contest
looking to take a commanding three-games-to-one lead.
And Larry Bird cannot get a hand from anybody tonight.
- I'll tell you. - I was trying. It was a two-on-one.
Then one of them two should be limping!
Stop staring at the fuckin' floor!
Ain't no answers down there!
Don't worry. It's just Larry being Larry. You good.
I got shooter! I got shooter! Help! Help!
Ball!
Let's go. Watch the screen.
Watch screen right!
Rambis...
- And now, let's watch it. - Get the fuck back here!
Cooper and the Celtics,
- and now the bench is empty. - Whoa!
Larry Bird helps Kurt Rambis up.
Man, he was decked by Kevin McHale
and he hit the floor hard. And both benches have emptied.
That’s a hard foul. Two shots.
Bullshit. You're outta your fuckin' tree.
You knew this was gonna happen.
And I don't remember
when this crowd was aroused as much.
Boston sucks!
Boston sucks! Boston sucks!
Yo! Fuck off!
Hey! Kurt! Hey, Kurt! Kurt!
Hey, Kurt... Larry, man, I'm sorry.
Apologize and I break your fuckin' neck.
We got 'em.
Here it is again, the fast break,
and see what the Celtics do to Kurt Rambis.
And here's the missed shot that's gonna produce
a fast break opportunity. A long-court pass
as McHale hustling back up. It's a two-on-one,
and McHale goes for Rambis, and, boy,
he got him. And Rambis up quick.
Worthy prevented Rambis from going after Henderson.
Timeout. LA by six.
Shut your fuckin' mouth! You shut your fuckin' face!
Or I'll fuckin' break it...
Fuckin' bitch!
- Can't be throwin' those blows, Kareem. - Fuck you gonna do about it?
I'll kick your fuckin' ass, white boy.
You think I'm fuckin' scared of you?
- Hey, hey, hey, enough! - Get the fuck off me!
- This is not a game! - Come on!
- Let this fucker go! - No, Cap!
- Control this fucking thug! - Cap! Relax!
Yeah? Yeah, come on, Kareem!
- Fuck you, bitch! - Hey! Cap!
Cool it. Hey. Hey. You get booted, we're screwed.
- Yeah, that's right. - Hey, just play basketball, man!
Just going for a fuckin' rebound.
Shit. Look at them.
There we go.
What the fuck was... The fuck! The fuck was that?!
That was bullshit. You saw that!
Yeah, man, that was some fucking bullshit!
Coop, let that shit go! That's what he do!
- That ain't our game! Come on, now! - You keep your composure.
Keep your poise. You do not let these assholes rattle you.
Just take a breath and chill.
- This is our game now. This is our fuckin' game now. - Yeah!
- Let's go. Let's go. - Yeah.
Aah!
Pick up! Pick up!
- Coop! Coop! - Come on! Let's do it!
- Here! Let's go! - Go with Bird!
That's a shove on 33! Gimme the ball.
Ref! Ref! That wasn't even Kareem!
- What?! - Ref, are you fucking joking?
And that's six on Jabbar,
and that will do it for the captain.
- He has fouled out of the game. - Are you fucking insane?
- Are you crazy? - Hey! He's the guy you fuckin' toss?
- Yes. Coach... - He's... You're tossing him? He didn't fuckin' touch him!
- Get outta my face, Coach. - Coach, Coach, Coach, chill!
- Coach, chill! Chill! - That's fucking bullshit!
Bullshit!
Alright! That's it!
No more fucking layups! No more layups!
Make those motherfuckers earn it!
Tighten up!
Tighten up! We work together.
Work together, we fucking crush these motherfuckers.
Final seconds.
And the Celtics will surely look to Larry Bird
to win their night.
Go! Back up! I'm here! I'm here!
Switch! Switch! Switch!
On me. You can't guard me. Yeah?
Fuck that! You all mine, motherfucker!
That's game.
Well, the Celtics win and, once again,
the Lakers snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.
This will send the series heading back to Boston tied.
Fuck!
Fuckin'... Mother...
I feel it, too.
I feel it.
That burning in your chest.
Pounding in your ears.
Like your heart's ready to explode
right through your fuckin' skull.
Unless you walk out that door,
across that hall,
and you bash the fuckin' life out of every one of them!
The fuckin' players!
The fuckin' refs!
My God, the refs.
In our fucking house!
On our floor!
'Cause they suckered you!
Fuck it.
They suckered us.
I'm guilty, too. I took the bait.
But here's the thing.
That was a desperation move.
That's the sign of a dying team
who knows that when we play ball our way,
we got 'em beat!
We ain't gonna win this playing prison ball.
We're playing Lakers ball!
So they fuck around and they play their little tricks.
But guess what? It's 2-2 now!
Two up.
They're outta tricks. They're cornered.
And we all know there's nothin' they can do to stop us.
Just as long as we keep...
our cool.
- Right? - Yes, Coach.
So just keep...
your cool.
Let's bring it in.
Go. "Cool" on three.
- One, two, three. - Cool!
Man, it's hot outside. Hotter inside.
15,000 souls in this building and no air conditioning.
Nice balmy Boston night, folks.
Perfect playing conditions.
But the pampered pretty boys from Hollywood can't hack it!
And speaking of hot, Keith, nobody hotter
than Larry Bird tonight.
Man, I tell you, the kid is on fire.
He cannot seem to miss.
Turn it up, turn it up. More! More air!
And it's nervous time, guys. Listen.
Th-They look like they're playing in molasses.
They cannot get their fast break going under these conditions.
Chick, it all starts in the fast break.
Th-They don't look like the Lakers.
You're not kidding, my friend.
Suck it up, old man!
Give it up, Gramps! You're done!
Jack, come on. Jesus, come on. Get... Not here.
Get him to the locker room. Give him a cold shower.
- Get the fuck outta our club! - Go fucking home! Get out, you fuckin' losers!
These kids need to pick up.
They gotta pick up some steam right now.
Looks like Kareem's headed to the locker room.
And they're shouting, "Beat LA."
They can do that all day long.
Did you turn their water back on?
- Just the hot. - Attaboy.
Beat LA! Beat LA!
Hey! Call a foul! For Christ's sake, he's holding him!
Open your eyes, man!
Your mama...
I-I ain't gonna say it.
I know when to shut up.
Hey, I'm telling you, Junior.
That son of yours hits hard.
Popped Grandpa in the hand. Whap!
- Like a 3-year-old George Foreman. - He ain't lying.
Coulda used him in the post.
Hey. Family time.
Supposed to be getting your mind off that.
I... Yeah. I'm sorry. You right.
- You right. - Let's get these dishes up.
- Earleatha, gimme a hand, would you? - Yes, ma'am.
- Yeah. - Babe.
Let me talk to you for a second, son. Come on.
Twitch above your right eye?
Your grandma had it.
It meant wrong or rain.
- Just tired, Pop. - You two set a date yet?
No. No, not yet.
There's just so much going on with the finals.
I'm just trying to let him be. Not like I'm in any rush, so...
You getting cold feet?
No! No, nothing like that.
No. It's just...
This series, man. It's...
Been down before. You'll get it right.
Hope so.
I mean, you got your girl here.
Give you a little comfort.
Take the edge off.
Yeah.
Nah, yeah. Sh-She great.
Just a lot going on.
I still have dreams. Things I wanna do.
You know, somebody took my picture the other day?
Wasn't even doing anything. Just seeing me with Earvin.
Regular old me. Cookie from Alabama.
Couldn't get me to move out here.
People walking around half-naked,
cars going every which a way.
Yeah.
But...
I think I could get used to it.
You looking at a simple man
with a simple plan.
All I ever wanted was for life to be right.
And from where I'm sittin',
yours look right as rain.
Lakers looking to even the series tonight,
but face possible elimination at the Forum
with the Celtics aiming to dash their hopes
and raise a record 15th championship banner.
In other news, preparations continue...
Wanna go to the game?
Um...
No, probably not.
Kurt says he wants to see me in the stands.
I hope I don't distract him, but I kinda hope I do.
- Sexy. - Come on, it'll be fun. We'll sit together.
No, it's not fun for me.
You know, my dad used to have me go to every game.
Always wanted me in the skybox, even when I worked for Claire.
But, after a while, I just started going
because I thought it was important.
Then, somewhere along the way, I stopped going,
and, I don't think he noticed.
So you don't wanna go because he might not notice
- or because he will? - No.
It's just that with Honey gone,
he's gonna want me and my brothers hanging out in shifts,
holding his hand.
You know, you didn't really answer my question.
I asked if you wanted to go to the game,
and now, we're talking about him.
It's his world.
Okay, Well, if you change your mind,
I'll be sitting with the Rambis Youth.
Look for the kids in the wigs and the funny glasses.
But the prospect of losing a championship
isn't the biggest problem for Lakers owner Jerry Buss,
who may be on the verge of losing his entire fortune.
Our own Mary Guilliams is live outside Pickfair estate.
Still awaiting the start of this press conference,
and these are not Lakers fans
amassed outside the home of Dr. Jerry Buss,
though at least one interested party may be pulling
for the Celtics, the soon-to-be former Mrs. Buss.
Is this a publicity stunt?
No, I wouldn't call this a publicity stunt.
But if Jerry Buss wishes to see his ball team
on the court tonight,
he'll have to pass through the court of public opinion,
face accountability for his fraudulent marriage
to my client.
Jeanie! Jeanie, any comment?
Can you tell us what's happening? What? Any comment?
- - What's happening? - Jeanie, can you tell us what's happening?
Any comment, Jeanie? Jeanie, any comment?
Hey.
Did you see that crowd?
Finally turned the place into a tourist destination after all.
Are you alright?
I've been better.
She's trying to take it all, Jean.
You can't really blame her for trying.
Everything else you promised her was bullshit.
No.
No, it wasn't bullshit.
I just wasn't capable of doing it.
And I know I left you guys hanging in the wind,
you and the boys, but you're the reason I did this in...
They're not boys.
We're grown up, Dad.
Well, that's how it is?
When you bought the team,
it was the most exciting thing that ever happened to me
because it meant I got to spend time with you.
Side by side.
- That's all I want. - It's not, though.
You want the picture in the frame.
To pick it up when it's convenient for you,
and to put us down when it's uncomfortable.
You're all I got.
Yeah.
I know the feeling.
Well...
You wanna stick around and watch the game?
Not a fucking chance.
No.
It's game six. The Celtics.
We're going.
Are you driving?
- I guess you’re gonna have to sneak me outta here. - I'm driving.
Hi, I'm Brent Musburger, and welcome.
And to get a quick update now on the condition of Kareem.
Kareem was on the trainer's table. He had an IV in him.
He'd been throwing up all morning.
He had a severe migraine headache.
The question is right now,
what are the Lakers like without Kareem in this situation?
They need Kareem at his best to beat the Boston Celtics.
Celtics just one victory away
from winning the championship.
For the Lakers, not only must they win here this afternoon,
but they'd have to win a seventh game in Boston
Tuesday night.
Could everybody please be quiet?!
Can you give him an aspirin or something?
He's knocked back a bottle already. Didn't help.
It's these migraines. No one really understands them.
What we do know is that some things make it worse.
Yeah, well, he picked the right place.
Hey. Y'all mind giving us a minute?
Dr. Johnson.
- Get out. Go. - Get him going.
Man, you look like you on one.
Wasn't a Muslim, I'd say you was out partying all night.
Oof! That bad?
Like knives.
But that's not why you're in here.
You're worried I'm not gonna play.
Ain't got a chance without you.
Wanna hear something crazy?
When I'm in pain like this,
I take it out on punk-ass white boys.
He mean that shit, y'all.
Wow, I tell you,
Kareem really being aggressive tonight,
and the Celtics have no answers.
Back in it, and you better be ready in Beantown.
Game six goes to the Lakers tonight,
and, folks, this series is all knotted up.
Headed back to Boston Garden for a date with destiny.
- What a series! - Unbelievable.
Game seven, baby! Y'all going down!
- You wanna bet on that? - I might!
Come on, man. Let's go. Let's do it, baby. Let's do it.
Woo-hoo-hoo!
Go Rambis! Go Rambis!
- Game seven! - Fuckin' shitting me?
- Bye-bye, Bird! - See you in Boston!
Fuck you!
Woo!
I don't know what to do, Mama.
Well, you just keep going.
When I see you play, it's like you're hurting.
That's my game.
- I play mean. - Didn't used to.
I used to watch you out there, look like you were having
the time of your life.
Hey...
You want me to be like him?
Cheesing for the cameras?
I just wish you had some of that joy.
You know, that's why Magic is my second favorite player.
- You can say first. I won't be offended. - Yes, you will.
Besides, my first is Bill Laimbeer.
No, it ain't, Mama.
Bill Laimbeer?
Aren't you impressed that I know who that is?
No, I'm not.
- You know I hate him. - I know you do.
That's why I said it.
- I was being ironical. - Yeah, okay.
I'm surprised you're not in Boston.
Well, taking the first plane in the morning.
Hey, you look good in that chair.
That'd be something else?
A woman owner.
Do you think the league would ever let it happen?
Oof.
Hard to picture,
what with all those toupees weighing them down.
You know, I think I could do it.
I know the business.
I-I see where the game is going.
How are you and your dad?
He's my dad. Always will be.
Tomorrow night with a game seven in Boston.
Hey, and what a series that's been.
- I mean, that Rambis play. - Sure has!
And the viewers certainly agree. CBS expecting
a record 20 million to tune in tomorrow night
for a defining game seven.
Says it all!
Unfinished business.
That's what this game comes down to.
You got 48 minutes...
To settle a score that started
long before you ever put on that Lakers uniform.
Can't give a fuck about that.
The bullshit.
The bad calls.
Dirty tricks.
I mean, if we walk out talking about those things
or luck,
then we deserve to lose.
I want you to take a minute now.
I want you to picture how it ends.
Picture how it's gonna feel.
You come back here,
feeling like you could've given more,
And you'll never forgive yourself. Trust me.
Make yourselves a promise.
It won't be for lack of effort.
- It won't be for lack of will. - That's right!
There won't be a single second
where you did not give it your all!
No!
Unfinished!
Business!
Bird and Danny Ainge have combined for two baskets here.
The Celtics have run off eight in a row.
Lakers trying to win their night.
- A steal by Larry Bird. - God. Fuck!
He came right behind Kareem to make the steal.
Wide open, Dennis Johnson.
It's the Celtics 58, the Lakers 52 at the half.
Fucking...
Foul on Kareem, and the call going Boston's way
like everything else tonight. And a furious Pat Riley
- is calling for time. - Hey, Carr! What's it gonna take
to get that goddamn jalopy back on the court, you old fart?
Fourth quarter. Eight minutes to go.
And, Keith, the Lakers find themselves at the bottom
of a very dark 14-point hole.
Listen up. Focus! Focus!
We're gonna get back in this, one basket at a time.
You wanna crash the fuckin' boards.
I want you to get a hand-up.
Challenge 'em! I don't care what you do!
We play aggressive. We're playing aggressive.
- Fuck these guys. You're gonna get in there, and you... What? - Coach. Coach!
They ours. Look.
Acting like it's in the bag, already handing out they rings.
I don't hear no fat lady singing, though.
- Do you? Hell no! - No!
Hey, we hit 'em hard, and we hit 'em fast,
and we go knock they ass out!
- Come on! Let's go get this fucking ring! - Fucking-a. Fucking-a.
- Let's go! - Listen up. Eight minutes!
Don't fucking fight!
Don't fucking think! Don't fucking whine!
Apply yourself!
Let's go, man! We can win it! We can win it!
Go, go, go! I got help!
- Shit! - I got it!
Up the court with the ball!
Woo!
Hell yeah!
Yes! Nice! Come on, baby, let's go!
Swing it! Swing it!
Get off me! Yeah!
And the foul! And Kareem to the line
with a chance to cut the lead down to nine.
Come on!
- Bullshit! - Fuck you!
- Come on! - Fuck yes!
Here we go. Here we go. Here we go.
Worthy's running the wing!
Magic down the middle. Magic all the way.
Lays it up and in.
And the lead is down to five
Two minutes to go.
Yes! Yes! That's it! That's it!
Right here, baby! Right here!
- I got ball! I got ball! - Help, help, help!
Gimme that!
- And here's a steal! - Get ‘em up!
- Magic! - Run! Run!
- No look! - To Worthy!
- Slam dunk! - What I fuckin' tell you?
My! And the Celtics lead
is down to three, 105-102.
- Beat LA! Beat LA! - And here's that Boston crowd. Place is goin' bananas.
And the Celtics call a timeout.
Beat LA! Beat LA!
- Screw y'all! - You piece of shit!
Beat LA! Beat LA!
- Yeah, yeah! - Let's do it!
Okay, folks. Boston up 105-102 with the ball,
and just over a minute left.
The Lakers need a stop and a score.
And the Celtics will surely look to Bird
to right the ship. A one-possession game.
My!
He's throwing to Bird!
Get up, get up, get up! Let's go, let's go, let's go!
- Get the fuck off me. - Nope. Where you goin'?
Motherfucker, come on!
Gimme the fucking rock!
Come on!
No good! Magic with the rebound,
and he starts to break the other way!
He's on your left! Patch it up!
Magic, top of the key.
McHale and Parish step out to contest, and...
He's smothered and turns the ball over!
- Come on, man! - DJ the other way.
- Get it back! - Cooper back.
With a big block!
- But there's a whistle. - Foul! 21 on one.
Foul on Cooper!
That's not a foul! That's not a foul!
And this Laker bench is livid.
Sit down on the bench! Get on the bench!
Pull a player...
- Yeah! - Make them free throws, baby. Fuckin' go!
Man, I'll tell you, folks, it looked clean to me,
but these zebras disagree. The call goes Boston's way.
Two shots for Dennis Johnson,
and the Celtics can go up five.
Beat LA! Beat LA! Beat LA!
Beat LA! Beat LA!
Free throws are good.
Lakers down five now in a hostile environment.
Henderson.
Well, there's still time on the clock, Keith,
but the Celtic fans starting to dribble towards the floor.
And, well, I'll tell you what.
They're already starting to celebrate.
Fuck yeah!
It's fucking crooked! You know it!
Beat LA! Beat LA!
And the celebration has begun in Boston.
Celtics lead by seven.
Boy, does it hurt,
when you know it's not gonna be your ring.
But the Lakers, who hoped that even year would be a charm.
They won the championship in 1980 over Philadelphia,
and again in '82, and hoped that 1984 would follow suit.
That's a three-pointer.
No good.
Seven-point lead, Boston ball.
You know, you go seven games,
man, I'll tell you, that is one of the classics.
Final seconds.
- Cooper, going for three. - Three! Two! One!
It's over.
And the Boston Celtics are the NBA World Champions.
In a grueling seven-game series with the Los Angeles Lakers,
the final score, Boston 111,
Los Angeles 102.
Fifteen world titles.
Another banner will be hung from the rafters at Boston Garden.
Yeah! Yeah!
- You want a piece of this? - Come on, Coop! Move! Come on, move!
We're the greatest in the world!
Leave the dynasties to us?
Fifteen, baby! Fifteen!
You said Seagram's, right?
That's the good stuff!
Thank you, sweetie. Come here. Jean-bean!
One day,
I can see you running this whole thing.
Me, looking down from above.
Or up from below. Big smile on my face
'cause I know I left it in the right hands.
Well, that's a long way off.
Sit down here with me.
- Here? - Yeah!
The best seat in the house.
Oof!
You know it's gonna be alright, kid.
All of it.
And do you know how I know?
Because we own this?
You're goddamn right.
Because we fucking own this.
We fucking own this.
I don't believe you yet.
- Say it again. - We fucking own this!
- No, no. Try again. - We!
We! Fucking! Own this!
We own this!
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