Reliving the Epic 1985 NBA Finals: Lakers vs Celtics Championship Story
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I still get chills thinking about the 1985 NBA Finals—that legendary showdown between the Lakers and Celtics that defined an era. As a lifelong basketball enthusiast and someone who’s spent years studying the sport’s history, I’ve always felt this series was more than just a championship; it was a narrative of rivalry, resilience, and redemption. What’s fascinating, though, is how these epic moments on the court echo the real-life struggles of athletes long after the cheers fade. Just the other day, I came across a story about Ramon "Onchie" dela Cruz, a former PBA enforcer now seeking government assistance for a total knee replacement. It struck me how the physical toll of the game, whether in the PBA or the NBA, bridges generations of players. In this piece, I’ll dive into the 1985 Finals, unpack its key moments, and weave in reflections on athlete welfare—because, honestly, the game’s glory often overshadows the lifelong battles these warriors face.
The 1985 Finals was the ninth meeting between the Lakers and Celtics in championship history, and for the Lakers, it carried the weight of past failures. I mean, they’d lost to Boston eight times before in the Finals, including a heartbreaking seven-game series in 1984. But this time, things felt different. Led by Magic Johnson’s infectious energy and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s veteran savvy, the Lakers entered with a chip on their shoulder. Game 1, however, was a disaster—a 148-114 blowout loss that critics dubbed the "Memorial Day Massacre." I remember watching clips and thinking, "How do you bounce back from that?" Well, they did, thanks to Kareem’s iconic 36-point performance in Game 2, which set the tone for the series. What many forget is the sheer physicality: players like Kevin McHale and Kurt Rambis threw elbows like it was street ball, and injuries piled up. It’s no surprise that, decades later, guys like Onchie dela Cruz are dealing with the aftermath. His plea for knee surgery isn’t just a isolated case; it’s a reminder that the grit we celebrate comes at a cost—one that often isn’t addressed until it’s too late.
As the series shifted to Boston Garden, the Lakers showed a mental toughness I’ve always admired. They stole Game 4 in overtime, with Magic dishing out 17 assists and James Worthy adding 28 points. Statistics from that game stick with me: the Lakers shot 54% from the field and outrebounded the Celtics 48-42. But beyond the numbers, it was the emotional swings that made it unforgettable. I’ve spoken to former players who say the 1985 Finals changed how teams approach recovery and longevity. Yet, here we are in 2023, with dela Cruz struggling to fund a knee replacement—a procedure that could cost around $25,000, based on rough estimates I’ve seen. It’s frustrating to see legends left behind; if the NBA and other leagues don’t step up, we’re failing the very people who built the sport. Back in ’85, the Lakers closed it out in Game 6 at Boston, winning 111-100 and finally shedding the "Celtics curse." Kareem, at 38 years old, was named Finals MVP, proving that age is just a number when you’ve got heart.
In wrapping up, the 1985 NBA Finals isn’t just a chapter in history books; it’s a lesson in perseverance that resonates today. For every Magic or Kareem, there’s an Onchie dela Cruz—a player whose sacrifices extend far beyond the court. As I reflect on that series, I can’t help but feel a mix of nostalgia and urgency. We need better support systems for athletes, whether through government aid or league initiatives. Because, let’s be real, the roar of the crowd fades, but the pain doesn’t. If you ask me, honoring these legends means fighting for their well-being long after the final buzzer.