Houston Rockets Game Six Song Comes from the Heart

Most of the focus Thursday night was about all the things the Houston Rockets didn't have.

No Yao Ming or Tracy McGrady or Dikembe Mutombo.

No seven-footers to battle the Lakers cadre of seven-footers.

No player as gifted or determined as Kobe Bryant.

And because they were playing the team most expect to win an NBA title in an elimination game, no chance.

Even the Houston Chronicle's columnists predicted game six would end in funeral fashion for the Rockets.

The Red Rowdies, the team's obnoxious and boisterous group of die-hard fans, writer Jerome Solomon said, would act as pallbearers for a well-played season.

Maybe he was right then. It was difficult not to remember how the Lakers, with many of these same players closed out the Utah Jazz at Energy Solutions Arena, the league's toughest environment, in last year's playoffs. That semifinal had been tied at 2-2.

However, as the final buzzer sounded after a wire-to-wire 95-80 Houston victory, the team reminded its fans it has the most important ingredient of all. Forget the rest of that mumbo-jumbo.

Heart—and a heck of a lot of it.

A game trumpeted as a swan song ended with a salsa dance down LeBranch and Polk streets.

From the projected casket to unexpected fiesta, fans should put Thursday night's song on repeat and listen until they can grin no more.

The Rockets responded to the worst postseason defeat in franchise history with a thorough victory of their own. It wasn't game four thorough, but the Lakers never led.

Luis Scola ignited the offense early, spinning around Lamar Odom and Pau Gasol for two nifty layins. Both players are reportedly still looking for their jock straps.

He paired a playoff career-high 24 points with 12 rebounds.

Aaron Brooks dazzled again with a 26 point outing, and Carl Landry provided the final burst of Rocket fuel needed to put away the Lakers. He dumped in 13 second-half points.

The Rockets ran up leads of 17-1 and 21-3 before the Lakers could threaten them.

The team's slogan, "Get Red," applied Thursday night, as in, the blood-infused sweat that pours after a hard day's work.

Or that Phil Jackson should be red-faced after allowing himself and his team to think about the Denver Nuggets before finishing off the Rockets.

The sometimes arrogant Lakers cannot see anyone else but themselves hoisting this year's Larry O'Brien Trophy. They seem to believe the shiny, gold masterpiece belongs to them.

The Rockets taught a more talented bunch a stern lesson from the opening tip.

Don't talk about how great the party will be before the host invites you.

Last I checked, the Lakers still need five wins just to reach the NBA Finals.

The resilient Rockets made sure that message blared throughout Toyota Center.

This song was as boombastic as it was soothing. If it rarely sounded smooth, it was always sultry and spectacular.

It was part "Here Comes the Sun," part "Piece of My Heart," and part "Breakin' The Law."

A team that was expected to bow in five games to the Lakers forcing a seventh contest does seem taboo, if not against unwritten law.

The best part about this song is that Houstonians can keep it to themselves. No one outside these city limits seems interested in crediting the Rockets for squat.

They, too, believe the O'Brien trophy belongs to the Lakers and appear shocked that anyone would dare put up a fight.

Instead of championing a team with Ron Artest, inconsistent youngsters and role players that fight as hard as anyone, they want to dissect why the favored champion sometimes doesn't play like one.

Yes, the Lakers missed a few makeable shots, and yes, they still have home court advantage. They did spank the Rockets by 40 points in Game Five.

But, as Bryant struggled through a 11-of-26 shooting night and his teammates often looked listless, the Rockets emerged with the louder voices.

They sang a season to continuation with a 48-minute effort that should make any fan proud.

The Lakers mounted a run, as everyone knew they would. A 9-0 spurt at the beginning of the third period cut Los Angeles' 15-point halftime deficit to two points. From that 54-52 score, the Rockets refused to look back.

Landry drove the lane and rudely threw it down over Andrew Bynum. Luis Scola ended the third period with an enormous, momentum shifting jumper.

Brooks dialed in threes and gorgeous drives to the hoop.

Even when this Thursday song skipped a few beats, it never felt like a decrescendo.

The fans arrived apprehensive and left sounding like they did in the 1990s when Hakeem Olajuwon played here.

The Toyota Tundra Parking Garage was filled with the noise of celebratory car horns and top-of-the-lungs cheers.

These fans had seen the Rockets defend, share the ball, and compete like those "Clutch City" teams.

Now, they head back to Los Angeles for a deciding game seven the Lakers will expect to win by a bunch.

This series is different from last year's, though. The full-health Jazz had no prayer of stealing a game at Staples Center.

The Rockets Ike Turner-ed the Lakers in the opener.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T? They socked it to LA.

No one believes they can do it again, and the reasons are fair and numerous.

If this was the last great song of the season, how sweet it was.

Still, to use a previous team slogan, it's time to give these basketball lyricists some respect.

After all, they have another song to write Sunday afternoon.