It was everything we could have hoped for. The roar at the Palace was deafening and the fans were clearly a factor. It was a contest between a group of individuals and a team, a battle between high priced Hollywood glitz and blue collar boys who were more focused on rebounds and assists than on stardom. The better team won, and they won by concentrating on the fundamentals. Afterward, the talk was about the losing team breaking up and the winning team staying together. And as we drove away from Auburn Hills, you could tell that George Blaha, who's masterful play-by-play painted the picture for those who couldn't score a ticket, was as much a part of the team, the legend, and the glory as was anybody on the court. And downtown, there were tens of thousands more, black and white, suburban and inner-city who were jubilant, celebrating throughout the night without the fires and vandalism that used to be the trademark of a Detroit title. All in all, a story book ending that you could proudly tell to your grandchildren. I was proud to be there to witness history being written, proud to be a Piston fan and proud to be from Michigan. A new era begins.