All-Star Game

By Jim Litke
Associated Press

Everybody can relax. The view wasn't half-bad. Commissioner David Stern can take a deep breath. The kids, for the most part, are going to be all right. There will be life after Michael Jordan.

Magic Johnson and Isiah Thomas have passed the torch to a new generation of young point guards.

For a few moments, there was a danger that the best part of Sunday's All-Star Game, a 132-120 victory by the East rescued by Glen Rice's sizzling shotmaking, would be the NBA's continuing celebration of its 50th anniversary. One by one, the P.A. system boomed out their names and the spotlights settled on the 50 men who changed the image of the league from a road show packed with freaks of nature into the hottest sports property imaginable:

George Mikan. Wilt Chamberlain. Bill Russell. Oscar Robertson. Larry Bird. Magic Johnson.

The deep lines etched into those faces spoke of times so hard it made you wonder whether the kids who inherited the fame and fortune would ever appreciate what the NBA once had been. Most of them did.

"I had the butterflies," said Milwaukee's Vin Baker, making only his third All-Star appearance. "We watched the ceremony at halftime. As much as those guys have been through, as much as they've accomplished, you could see in their eyes what this recognition meant to them."

Then again, all those teary eyes might simply have reflected how miserable most of the first half turned out.

One of the most talked-about problems this season has been the miserable shooting, and the East All-Stars came out at the start like they were staging a clinic on misfiring. Rice, who won MVP honors with a brilliant display of 3-point shooting at the outset of the second half, made only one for his first seven tries. Jordan began 0-for-3. The East, trailing 34-21 after one quarter, made 33 percent of its shots.

If they'd gone into the locker room at that point, most wouldn't have landed on the stools in front of their lockers.

"I think the reason the shooting has dropped off is teams are really stressing the issue on the defensive end," Rice said. He was talking about the season -- scores are down on average by 14 points a game -- conveniently forgetting that nobody plays defense in the All-Star Game. Or at least, they weren't supposed to.

But when the West advantage swelled to 53-30 midway through the second quarter, some threshold was crossed. Embarrassed, the East squad dug in their heels and began playing "D." Old hands Jordan and Scottie Pippen, both of whom did a stint with the "50 Greatest Players" at halftime, sealed off the perimeter. A few guys who will inherit their places in the near future, Christian Laettner, Grant Hill and Penny Hardaway, made it a little tougher going down in the paint.

Bill Russell and Wilt Chamberlain have seen several NBA generations come and go since their glory days.

"Defense," said Doug Collins, the Piston coach who ran the East bench and is an old-school ballplayer himself. "That's what triggered the Chicago Bulls' greatness and all the other champions."

In this case, it triggered a 23-4 run that pulled the East within 60-57. Then came the feel-good portion of the program, the halftime show, followed by the feel-better portion. That's when the East took the game over and opened it up, giving the kids a chance to demonstrate that for the all the lessons they have yet to learn, they at least understand the importance of entertaining.

First, Rice lit up the building with three consecutive treys. Then, as it became more and more a wide-open affair, Showtime took over. Babyfaced Kevin Garnett, making his first All-Star appearance, tried to throw down a dunk, only to have Jordan sneak up and block it. They fired deadly serious looks at each other. Then both melted into million-dollar grins.

"I almost had him with a highlight and I told him 'Don't be caught up in a KG Special,' " Garnett said.

"I wasn't talking any trash," he added quickly. "Anyway, he started it."

Trash-talking was another of the problems on everyone's lips over the weekend. Most of it centered on Allen Iverson, the 76ers guard who took over the rookie game Saturday night and has become the lightning rod for all the criticism directed at a cadre of kids failing to show players like Jordan and Karl Malone their due respect.

At times, the debate sounds gloomy. Because for all its current popularity, the NBA is not that far removed from the time when players had to take off-season jobs to make ends meet. On the other hand, some of the talk is too familiar to be scary, reflecting what happens every time there is change in the way a game is played.

Some people thought Magic Johnson and Larry Bird were too radical in their approach. Others thought the Jordan era wouldn't last longer than his hang time. They were wrong. The naysayers could well find themselves wandering in the wilderness again.

"It's a different game now," Celtics great John Havlicek said. "If you like dunking and 3-point shooting, it wasn't a bad night. But I think we played better fundamentals.

"What's next?" he repeated. "Who knows? But I'd venture a guess on this: There'll be another way of playing. There always is."