Sunday, June 17
Fisher puts spectacular cap on difficult season

ESPN.com

PHILADELPHIA -- Derek Fisher thought he had hit the game-saving shot.

It was a 25-foot 3-pointer, with Allen Iverson and Aaron McKie in his face, that Fisher assumed would be the highlight that everyone would remember as the shot that finally did in the Sixers.

Derek Fisher
Derek Fisher drained six of his eight 3-point attempts in Game 5.

So as he was trotting back on defense, Fisher did what came naturally. He raised his right index finger to his mouth, told the Philly fans to "shoosh," and told the national television audience this series was over.

But Derek Fisher was wrong.

Though the Sixers didn't legitimately challenge the Lakers' lead, they didn't just roll over and play dead, either, climbing to within seven with 1:08 to play.

Again, enter Fisher, who dribbled down court, stared into the eyes of Iverson and without the slightest of hesitation, pulled up to bury yet another long-range dagger.

This one, indeed, was the end.

"I thought that first one was it. I really thought it was," Fisher said. "But the Sixers, as tough as they are and as resilient as they've been through this entire series, fought back and made it even more interesting."

After drilling the second 3-pointer, Fisher's face was blank. He didn't smile. He didn't wink. He didn't wave. He just soaked it in.

"If you could see the look on my face, I was like a deer in headlights," Fisher said. "I didn't know what to say."

All Sixers fans could say was, "Oh, him again."

After all, it was Fisher who drained a similar game-clinching 3-pointer in Game 2. It was Fisher who chased Iverson around like a game of cat-and-mouse, harassing the streaky shooter into a plethora of bad looks. And it was Fisher who picked apart the Sixers' press as if he were finding his way through a challenging maze.

Not bad for a guy who six months ago had surgery for a stress fracture in his right foot and didn't even know if he'd be ready for the playoffs.

"To be effective as I was -- it was not part of the plan," Fisher said. "I just wanted to get back and see what I could do. Help in any way I could."

As it turned out, Fisher provided the perfect compliment to Shaquille O'Neal and Kobe Bryant as the team's third scoring option through most of the playoffs.

In four previous seasons, his best output was 6.3 points per game, but in the 2001 postseason, Fisher chipped in just over 13 points a contest. His 48-percent accuracy from the 3-point line was third best in the playoffs.

I couldn't ask for anything else. This is all I've ever wanted in sports -- to be a part of something special, of something magical.
Derek Fisher, Lakers guard

"I couldn't ask for anything else," Fisher said as a tear rolled down his face. "This is all I've ever wanted in sports -- to be a part of something special, of something magical."

The only thing wrong with Fisher's postgame celebration was the absence of his father, who watched the game on television from the Fisher home in Little Rock, Ark.

"I just wish so bad that he could be here," Fisher said. "My mom is visible and a lot of people know her, but my dad is probably the most important figure in terms of my heart and my character and my pride that I play with. I love my dad to the utmost, but he likes to stay in the background."

Happy Father's Day.

After Fisher's September surgery on his foot, both of his parents flew from Little Rock to L.A. to take care of their son during the first few weeks of his recovery. They had to feed him. They had to bathe him. And they had to help him to the bathroom.

To say it was humbling to the 26-year-old would be an insulting understatement.

"When I would go to the bathroom, my mom would be on one side of me and my dad would be on the other side," he remembered. "It was scary."

So on Friday, after burying the game-clinching shot, it was easy to understand the emotions Fisher felt as he sat in the Lakers locker room, drenched in champagne, a smudge of lipstick on his cheek from his mother, tears falling from his eyes.

"It was a trying year, a real trying year," Fisher said. "And it had been a long time since I've been in a situation that I felt I was needed. So it feels good. It feels so good."

And for the losers, Fisher has compassion as well. Just seconds after the final buzzer sounded Friday, while the rest of his teammates were hugging at the center of the court, Fisher sprinted off into the Sixers tunnel, where he grabbed a dejected Allen Iverson.

They embraced.

"I knew he was disappointed and frustrated and I wanted to let him know from one player to another that I have nothing but love and nothing but respect for what he did this season.

"Winning sometimes can take away from the fact that there are two teams out there. Everybody is in our locker room, all of the cameras are in our face, but sometimes you have to think about the competition before you can celebrate. And that's what I wanted to do."

Swish.

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer for ESPN.com.

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