Celtics Win Game 5: Will Sixers Blow 3-1 Two Years in a Row?

Eastern Conference Finals
1981-82 Boston Celtics

To the list of fan rallying cries add one which will have only a short life, but which will do the job nonetheless.

It came down from the stands with 2:39 remaining in the game and the Celtics in complete control with a 110-76 lead. "See You Sunday!" boomed the crowd. Indeed. The Celtics will be winging their way to Philadelphia for tomorrow night's Game 6 with renewed confidence, having demolished the 76ers by a shocking 114-85 score before a delirious Garden capacity crowd of 15,320 last night.

This may have been the most sensational program in Channel 56 history. All those half-clad barbarians and wenches normally featured in the station's endless onslaught of Grade B movies never provided the excitement and drama of the real-life extravaganza on display at the Garden last night.

The ancient building began rocking when the buzzer sounded to end the warmups (the ensuing standing ovation consumed a full 2 minutes and 15 seconds before PA announcer Andy Jick began introducing the hated 76ers). The noise level seldom dropped below Early Sonic Boom as the home team, 48 minutes away from a searing post-mortem, came out to play what may have been, considering the quality of the opponent, the best half of defense they have played all year.

After brief sparring (and after the Sixers had scored on their first three possessions, as Andrew Toney laid one in, Caldwell Jones took a Mo Cheeks penetration feed for a dunk and Bobby Jones swished a foul line jumper) the Celtics began to make things happen. Trailing, 6-4, Boston held the Sixers scoreless on their next seven possessions, during which time the home team did enough scoring to build up a 14-6 lead.

By the quarter's end, the Celtics had clamped on a double-teaming, switching defense that was the equivalent of a Killer Kowalski claw hold, had unleashed a revived scoring center in the person of Robert Parish (15 of his 26 in the first period); and had taken control of the boards (where Larry Bird would grab 20 rebounds for the third time in his playoff career).

The score after one quarter was 33-22, Boston, which is nice, but hardly overwhelming by NBA standards. That's why the key to this game was the play of the second-quarter units. Had the Celtics' subs not maintained the defensive intensity of the starters, the game could have become competitive.

But they did, and it must have been as gratifying to Bill Fitch as it was exhilarating to the fans when the unit of Rick Robey (every bit as skillfull last night as he was ineffective on Sunday), Kevin McHale (three second- quarter blocks), Bird, Henderson and, yes, Danny Ainge, applied the same type of near-maniacal defensive pressure as did the first quintet. And so it was 57-37 at the half.

The only consternation in the second quarter came with the score at 53-32, when the Celtics turned the ball over on three of their next four possessions. Visions of a skimpy 12- or 14-point lead started dancing in the anxious fan's head. But while the offense was shaky at this point (overexuberant might be a better term), the defense was constant. The Sixers, in the midst of a field goal drought that would last for the final 6:14 of the period, and in the process of shooting an abysmal 4 for 26 from the floor in the quarter, could not capitalize on the situation.

The Celtics got out the hammer and nails in the third quarter, slamming the coffin behind Cedric Maxwell's seven rebounds in the period and some solid all-around halfcourt play. What passed for a crisis in the second half was a mild Philly incursion at 59-44 with 10:17 left. And when Parish missed two free throws, the Sixers had a chance to come within 13.

For about a half-second, that is. That's how long it took Henderson to go up for a long rebound in the lane. He pitched the ball back out, and Parish eventually wound up with a traffic dunk to start an 8-2 run that ended the evening's competition.

Parish's 26-point, 10-rebound numbers only partially reflect the importance of his contribution. Bill Fitch, aka the Birthday Kid (48th), started the game with Parish playing more high post, a maneuver that served two purposes: It gave Maxwell, the inside squirmer supreme, room to wiggle; and it led to play-calling that gave Parish an opportunity to shoot from the perimeter, facing the basket instead of powering over half the Delaware Valley along the baseline. Once Parish regained his rhythm, he was off to a 7-for-8 opening period that gave the Celtics a huge offensive send-off.

"Facing up helps me," asserted Parish. "They don't know if I'm going to drive or shoot the jumper, and it puts more pressure on the defense."

Even as Parish looked more like Parish, so did Bird look more like Bird and Henderson more like Henderson. The Boston perimeter passing had the look of a Manhattan street corner shell game, and all the above found themselves with a greater selection of open shots than in previous games. Conversely, the 76ers could not solve the Celtics' aggressive swarming defense (Toney went to bed counting white jerseys, for sure), as a 33 percent (32-96) shooting percentage suggests.

"I imagine Philly will be more prepared and will shoot with more poise on Friday," analyzed Fitch. "Both defenses will have to find a different way to play."

'Twas, without question, a night of continual highs for Celtics freaks, and if that's the last time the faithful get to see their team, the memories will be sweet. This game was for dignity, perhaps even for "Celtics Pride." The next game will be for blood.