They attacked all night, the way you attack a fire, the way you attack an enemy hill, no counting on luck, fate or chance, just sheer will and your own pounding lungs, drive the rim, drive the lane, until finally, the horn sounded to end their nine-month shift, which began in October and ended one week shy of summer. Rip Hamilton was jumping in place, a ball of energy. Mehmet Okur was hugging Tayshaun Prince. Ben Wallace took the spray paint and marked the last game with a big old "X." The team whose motto is "Goin' to Work" had put in a little overtime, and the once mighty Lakers hadn't just been defeated, they'd been stomped and crushed like Italian grapes. The Pistons didn't just beat L.A., they reduced it to a single letter: "L," as in loser. And as the music soared at the Palace the Pistons soared right with it.

Paydirt.

"Never stop dreaming," Chauncey Billups, the series MVP, said, smiling widely after the raucous 100-87 Game 5 victory that clinched the title.