By ’89, the Pistons were done crying.

They snarled their way to The Finals again, where they met the two-time defending champion Lakers. Pat Riley had guaranteed his aging team would win a second straight title the year before -- and it did, with his players using their anger at him for making such a crazy pronouncement as fuel. But Riley was ready to go one better the next year; he got a trademark for a phrase that no one had ever heard before: “ThreePeat.” And for most of that season, the Lakers looked like they’d do just that, cruising to 57 regular season wins, followed by an 11-0 romp through the Western Conference playoffs to return to The Finals for a third straight season. I’d never seen a team look so thoroughly dominant, so uncaring about who it played in the playoffs.

But before Game 1, in the midst of a typical rugged Riley practice, starting shooting guard Byron Scott, the team’s third-leading scorer and best outside shooter (almost 40 percent on threes), tore his hamstring, and was declared out for The Finals. It was a blow, but the Lakers were still “Showtime”, and even after losing Game 1, they were still confident they were the better team.

In the third quarter of Game 2 at the Palace, the Lakers led 75-73. Salley blocked a Mychal Thompson shot, and Detroit got out on the fast break. Johnson took off in pursuit, but just past midcourt, he grabbed his hamstring with his left hand, and slowed up. Detroit scored, and L.A. called time; Gary Vitti, the Lakers’ athletic trainer, came onto the court; Magic’s face was contorted in pain and anger and disbelief. He never looked like that on the floor. But he knew, immediately, that his hammy was shredded. He missed the rest of Game 2, which Detroit won down the stretch, and though he tried to play in Game 3 in L.A., he was helpless and it was pointless. The Pistons swept the Lakers to win the title.

No. 2: June 3, 1990

Game 7, Eastern Conference finals -- Pistons vs. Bulls

About 10 minutes before tipoff, I was in my seat courtside at the Palace, having flown in from Portland the night before after coming the Trail Blazers’ playoff win over San Antonio. Flew through storms so bad (pretty sure lightning hit the plane at one point) that we had to land somewhere in Ohio, I think, before continuing to Detroit. Finally got to Auburn Hills around 3 a.m. Sunday morning; tipoff was at noon.

Anyway, it was about 10 minutes before tipoff, and the Bulls were ready to finally finish off the Pistons, who’d knocked them out of the playoffs the previous two seasons. The year before, Detroit won Game 6 in Chicago to clinch the Eastern Conference finals series -- after Bill Laimbeer elbowed Scottie Pippen in the head and knocked him out, a minute after tipoff. The hatred -- true hatred -- the teams had for each other made this one of the great rivalries in sports. To Pistons assistant coach Brendan Malone, who had devised the “Jordan Rules” to help try and keep Michael Jordan contained, and with every success Detroit had holding Jordan at bay, the Rules took on some mystical, magical quality -- a secret plan devised in NASA labs, by Stephen Hawking.

The Jordan Rules were simple, actually. Dumars, the primary defender, would do everything he could to make Jordan work for his points -- and Dumars was one of the best on-ball defenders ever. But when Jordan went by him, the real Rules were activated -- knock the living hell out of Jordan when he drove to the rim. If he elevated -- as he was wont to do -- knock him out of the sky. Pound him. Punish him. Wear him down.

But in Game 6, less than 48 hours earlier, Jordan had been his usual otherworldly self, going for 29 points in an 18-point rout of Detroit in Chicago. Jordan was so ready to finally vanquish the one team that had his number, kept him from flying, beat him when it mattered. The Bulls had learned from the Celtics, then learned from the Pistons. It was time to school their masters.

Except, here came Mark Pfeil, the Bulls’ longtime athletic trainer. My seat was very close to the Bulls’ bench. (In those days, writers got courtside seats). Pfeil walked over to Phil Jackson, the Bulls’ coach, and whispered something to him.

Jackson’s face grew agitated.

”Scottie!” Jackson yelled at Scottie Pippen, the Bulls’ young star forward, who had catapulted Chicago into contender status with his amazing combination of full-court defensive abilities and ball-handing and passing wizardry. With Pippen, Jordan didn’t have to exhaust himself guarding the opposition’s best offensive player, and he didn’t have to kill himself to bring the ball up against pressure.

Pfeil had told Jackson that Pippen was complaining about migraine headaches. And, indeed, Pippen looked ashen.

He would play, but went just 1 of 10 from the floor. With Pippen a shell of himself, the Pistons took control of the game in the second quarter and strangled the life out of Chicago for a third straight postseason, advancing to The Finals with a 94-73 win. Jordan was almost rendered mute by Pippen’s performance; the Pistons, in their locker room, were profanely mocking Pippen’s toughness. But the game was as much about the Pistons’ incredible defense. They weren’t the result of some gimmicky name; Detroit’s D was stifling, five guys on a string, not allowing anyone to get open, ever.

“It was beautiful,” Isiah Thomas said. And it was the best of the Bad Boys.

No. 3: June 5, 1990

Game 1, NBA Finals -- Pistons vs. Trail Blazers

Two distinct pregame memories:

1. Chuck Daly, one of the great clothes horses, in a black charcoal pinstripe suit. All the brothers on press row lost their minds;

2. Ken Calvert, the Pistons’ PA announcer, introducing the young, unknown pregame entertainment: “please welcome … Columbia recording artist … Mariah Carey … for the singing of America The Beautiful.”

Yeah, that Mariah Carey. We all stopped looking at Chuck’s suit.

No. 4: June 15, 2004

Game 5, NBA Finals -- Pistons vs. Lakers

The Lakers had put together a super team -- a Super Duper team -- with Karl Malone and Gary Payton joining Shaquille O’Neal and Kobe Bryant for the 2003-04 season. L.A. was just a year removed from winning three straight NBA titles (no word if Riles cashed in on the ThreePeat). Shaq and Kobe were feuding, to be sure, but the Lakers rolled through the playoffs, and were heavy favorites against Larry Brown’s Pistons -- a team that had become a great defensive unit after the midseason acquisition of Rasheed Wallace from Atlanta. But Brown’s team was a team, a sum of the parts unit if there ever was one, with Chauncey Billups and Rip Hamilton in the backcourt, and the Wallaces, Ben and Rasheed, up front, with youngster Tayshaun Prince. And Brown believed if his team would stick together, the Lakers would come apart.

The Pistons upset the Lakers in L.A. in Game 1, then gave away Game 2 in the final seconds. They came home for the next three games, in the Palace; absolutely no one expected them to win them all. But they routed the Lakers in Game 3, then took Game 4 -- when the Lakers, inexplicably, went away from Shaq, who’d scored 17 points in the first 20 minutes and looked like he was good for 50. That allowed Detroit to catch its breath, and pull away late to take a 3-1 series lead.

Game 5 was a hot summer night in Detroit, with 22,076 sweaty folks ready to celebrate the Pistons’ first title in 14 years. By that time, another local DJ, John Mason, was doing the PA at the Palace, and he’d created his own unique style for introducing the players. By that time, the Lakers were coming unglued, just like Brown predicted. Game 5 was a rout, a celebration of team over individuals, with Billups -- the guard who’d bounced around for five years and four different teams, finishing up a Finals MVP turn, while Ben Wallace inhaled 22 boards.

The Pistons routed the Lakers on that hot summer night, running them off the floor in front of their delirious crowd, to win a Finals title for the first time at home. Brown, and his team, was as good as his word.

No. 5: June 19, 2005

Game 5, NBA Finals -- Pistons vs. Spurs

Detroit was itching to defend its championship, even as its coach, Larry Brown, was talking to the Cavaliers about their vacant head coaching job -- something former owner Bill Davidson didn’t know about at the time. And after losing the first two games of The Finals in San Antonio, the Pistons came back to win Games 3 and 4, and had one more at the Palace before returning to Texas.

Game 5 was a back and forth heavyweight fight. Neither team led by more than four in the fourth quarter; the lead ping-ponged back and forth until Billups tied the game at 89 with less than a minute left in regulation. The game went into overtime after Tim Duncan missed a putback at the buzzer.

Detroit went up by four with less than two minutes left in overtime. But Robert Horry -- “Big Shot Bob,” for his numerous playoff heroics over the years in Houston and Los Angeles, was now in San Antonio, a veteran who could be calm when everything around him wasn’t. He’d already scored 16 points in the second half, 13 in the fourth quarter. Now, with the season on the line, he shot-faked and drove the paint for a leaning left-handed dunk with 1:25 left to bring the Spurs within two. And the score stayed there for another excruciating 80 seconds, with both teams missing point blank looks.

The Spurs called time with 9.5 seconds left. Horry inbounded to Manu Ginobili, who was guarded by Prince. Prince had cut off the baseline; Ginobili couldn’t drive. But Rasheed Wallace left Horry, for some reason, to go double-team Ginobili in the corner. Ginobili made the easiest play in basketball -- pass the ball back to the inbounder.

Who was Horry.

Who was wide open.

Who was behind the three-point line.

Who didn’t miss.