Magic Handcuffs Celtics, and Mystique Disappears

Assuming he didn’t drown in cheap champagne or get hugged to death by adoring teammates and fans, how did Earvin Magic MVP Johnson Jr. celebrate the Lakers’ NBA championship Sunday night?

Did he head for the neon lights and disco his brains out?

Did he play it wild and loose, drinking soda pop until he got dizzy?

Did he invite the neighbor kids over to his private indoor hoop-o-drome for a midnight, gloves-off game of H-O-R-S-E?

Maybe Magic did all of those things, because he’s a fun kind of guy. But when all the partying was over Sunday night, Magic Johnson went home, sat himself down in the cool darkness of his mansion, and cried. That’s what he planned to do.

“I have to get away from this,” he said with a smile, in the sweaty tumult of a crazed postgame locker room. “This is too much for me. I have to get away, sit down and have a nice cry.”

Did you say cry? Isn’t that on the Celtics’ agenda?

“It’s a cry of happiness, not a cry to be sad,” Magic explained. “I’ll be alone, I’ll think about all that we’ve accomplished. That’s the best time for me. I’ve done it (celebrate with a cry) before. It’s nice, it’s just my way. It’s different, maybe, but it’s what I do.”

Who would expect Magic to react to anything the way mere mortals do?

Who can figure? When it comes to Magic Johnson, you don’t explain, you just watch, and marvel. He dominated the championship series, playing extraordinary basketball in all six games.

Sunday, he handed out 19 assists--the entire Celtic team had 21--and had 8 rebounds. For the series he averaged 26.2 points, 13 assists and 8 rebounds. He shot 54% and made 24 of 25 free throws. Handling the ball almost constantly, he averaged two turnovers a game.

Most importantly, he set the sizzling pace as the Lakers unseated the world champion Celtics. Goodby, Celtic mystique.

Final count: Magique 4, Celtiques 2.

Boston was trying for consecutive titles, but the Lakers, led by Johnson, paraded on the Celtics’ reign.

What Magic did over the last two weeks is paint a portrait of a young man kicking the world’s butt, playing a game at about as high a level of excellence and brilliance as it can be played over six crucial games.

When the Lakers were down, he carried them; when they were up, he led them. Frame this portrait, clear off a wall and nail it up, aim a spotlight at it. It’s a masterpiece.

The creation of the portrait took a lot out of the artist. He included all his teammates on the canvas. After the game, he laid down his brush. He was a spent buckaroo.

But that’s the secret to his success. You kids out there, write this down:

“When you play ball,” Magic said, “you got to give it all up.”

He gave it all up. Johnson was so keyed up he couldn’t sleep Saturday night. After eight NBA seasons and five previous championship series, you’d think he’d be cool this time, but no.

“I was waiting, waiting, waiting,” he said. “I just came out wanting it so bad! We came out too ready. We were all rushing ourselves. At halftime, me and Coop (Michael Cooper) said, ‘Hey, are you rushin’?’ ‘Yeah, are you?’ ‘Yeah, I’m rushin’, too.’ You want to come out in a flow, not rushin’.”

They wanted to come out fast but slow, like good ketchup.

With the Lakers down by five entering the third quarter, Magic led a 10-0 blitz, opening the action with a junior junior junior skyhook. He closed out the quarter with two tippy-toe jumpers and two free throws for an 81-68 Laker lead.

“Well, I had to (take charge),” he said. “It’s a long way from here to October, to let this thing slip away because I wasn’t active.

“I had to (take over). We’ve been in this situation before. With Kareem out (with foul trouble), hey, click, I’m offensive-minded all the way, you’re looking to take your shot, looking to get in the groove.”

One can only imagine what a Magic-type groove must feel like. In that third quarter, he scored 10 points and assisted on 10 other points, to account for 20 of 30 Laker points.

“I think we just wore ‘em down,” Magic said, de-glamorizing a classic piece of Showtime.

Johnson, of course, distributed the credit like a poker dealer distributes the cards. Mychal Thompson, he pointed out, forced Kevin McHale to set up well outside the key area on offense. Very important. Goodby, old paint.

But Magic was the series MVP in--appropriately enough--a runaway.

He should share the trophy, though, with Laker Coach Pat Riley, who last October, in what proved to be brilliant strategy, told Magic to take over the team, score more, assert himself.

After seven years in the NBA, one might think Magic had shown us all he had to show. Riley knew better. The difference in Magic this season was the difference between the fizzle of ’86 and the sizzle of ’87.

Magic made Riley a genius. Or was it vice versa? How about a co-MVG (most valuable genius) awards?

With two minutes left in the game Sunday, the TV cameras zoomed in on Riley, standing on the sidelines. He was trying hard to blink back the tears.

In the interview room, Riley hugged Johnson. Any Riley tears were hidden in the shower of the vintage $2 industrial-strength champagne that had been shipped coast to coast to coast.

For Magic, the tears would come later.