It defies logic for all who witnessed game six in Los Angeles. We choked, bad, despite playing at one of the highest levels we’d reached all series only minutes before.
Once you can explain to me how we busted out of a 64-62 halftime to play solid defense and dominant offense, get both James Harden and Dwight Howard T’d up – and take an 18-point lead in the bonus with two minutes to go AND BLOW IT, we’ll have an answer. Because right now, I don’t get it.
We couldn’t even hold onto the ball. My arms locked up and my neck cramped tight as I watched us completely unravel, missing ten straight shots (at least), fumble turnovers, and actually airball unblocked shots. Nothing went in for the Clippers once we reached 100 points.
And don’t credit Houston. They didn’t deliver all game, letting us dictate the pace and secure a lead almost all night. They just outlasted our crumbling down.
I feel really bad for Chris Paul, who played his heart out. We needed to get him some days off, but now, instead, it’s another winner-take-all game seven. On the road.
We just have to get our minds right. After going up 3-1, we knew right where we were, and we dropped the ball. Somehow, someway, we have to pick ourselves back up and move on to Houston, where we won game one without Paul.
Los Angeles is clearly the superior team, and I personally look forward to putting it together for 48 minutes and actually playing our best basketball.
Sorry.