On the evening of May 21, at the TNT studio in Atlanta.
The lights dimmed, then brightened again. Three chairs formed a semicircle, with two team logos displayed side by side on the big screen behind them—the Lakers' purple and gold and the Rockets' red and yellow. Kevin Harlan sat in the middle, Marv Albert to his left and Bill Walton to his right. Each had a cup of coffee in front of him, and the stat sheets spread across the table looked like a verdict waiting to be signed.
"Gentlemen," Harlan began, his voice carrying the gravity of a broadcaster about to call a major game, "the Western Conference Finals. The Los Angeles Lakers against the Houston Rockets. Let's cut to the chase—who wins?"
Albert leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table. "The Lakers. I'll give you my conclusion straight up. The Lakers finish this in six games or fewer."
Walton raised an eyebrow. "You're that certain?"
"It's not certainty. It's objective analysis." Albert straightened and picked up the stat sheets. "Let's break it down, matchup by matchup."
The two teams' starting lineups appeared on the big screen.
"Center: Olajuwon against O'Neal." Albert read out the first matchup, pausing as though savoring the weight of those names. "This is a showdown between two all-time great centers. Who was better at his peak, Olajuwon or O'Neal? We could argue that all summer. But we're not talking about their peaks. We're talking about the year 2000."
He turned a page. "Olajuwon is 37. This regular season, he averaged 23.9 points, 9.6 rebounds, and 2.5 blocks. O'Neal is 28, averaging 29.7 points, 13.6 rebounds, and three blocks. Numbers don't lie."
Walton shook his head. "Numbers don't lie, but they don't tell the whole story. Olajuwon's Dreamy Footsteps are