MINNEAPOLIS – From the minute Lin Dunn opened her mouth, she stuck out. With her twangy drawl, her cain'ts and her po-eents, the Indiana coach did not belong, not in the Target Center, where what her team had just done simply doesn't happen.
Except on Sunday, it did.
There was no surprise in Dunn's step-by-step explanation of how the Fever dismantled the Lynx, 76-70 in game one of the WNBA Finals. There was jubilation and pride, but no shock. We did this, this and this. We made these changes. We adjusted that. Dunn's verbal tour of the game made sense, even if the score seemed not to.
And so the surprise was left to the Lynx and their fans. Just minutes before, with a timeout called and 47.8 seconds remaining in the game, Lynx fans began filing out of the once-packed, once-deafening Target Center. Their team was down, 74-67, with little hope of a comeback. The white towels that once moved in unison were now dots, the faithful still flying and hoping for a miracle. If anyone could have done it, it would have been the Lynx. But even they could not. Time and physics were against them.
On paper, the night made no sense. History said this couldn't happen. The Lynx had just finished a season in which they went 16-1 at home, 27-7 overall. They hadn't lost a playoff game at the Target Center in the past two years. They had a week to rest, practice and plan. Their roster is stacked with Olympians, the league's best talent and some of its most mature women.
It was hard even to consider the Fever. When WNBA president Laurel Richie talked before the game, the questions were of dynasties. They implied a Lynx win, and a series sweep seemed utterly possible. But Richie demurred, as presidents do, quietly implying that the Fever, too, could win.
And what an idea it was.
Indiana stole the game. Dunn said it outright. Her players' smiles implicitly agreed. As Fever guard Erin Phillips, who finished the night with 13 points, spoke, she choked back a grin. It refused to die, just as her team had all night. It wasn't as if they didn't think they could do it, just that finally, they had.
"We're not in it just to be in the Finals," Fever forward Tamika Catchings said. "We're here for a great opportunity, and both teams, we both want it bad."
In this case, the Fever seemed to want it more. They took the Lynx's advantages and twisted them to their own. When the two teams ran out onto the court before the game simultaneously, the crowd was as loud as ever, roaring for its Lynx. Catchings turned to her teammates. They're cheering for us, she joked, and then the Fever took the court and played as if that were true.
Maybe the Fever weren't surprised, but as much could not be said for the Lynx. They weren't so much shocked at what Indiana did, but in how unable they were to respond to it. Minnesota got what it expected throughout the night, gritty basketball and tough defense, and yet somehow, its plans to combat it went up in smoke.
"Everything they did was what we expected," Seimone Augustus said. "We practiced it all week. For some reason, we didn't come out ready to play."
That's not like the Lynx, not for the past two seasons. As the game muddled on, the desperation set in, and desperation does not suit these women well. They had their chances, especially in the third quarter, to turn the tide, but big plays became turnovers and mistakes. Shots that fell all year did not; plays that worked all year fell apart. The buzzer sounded to a smattering of soft applause. That never happens, not here.
It was confusing, from the moment a win seemed inevitable to the loss itself. But somehow, the Lynx handled it perfectly. They gathered at center court as the stadium emptied, exchanged a few words and retreated. They made no excuses and accepted the loss for what it was: their fault and the result of superior play from the Fever.
And so the answers were short. To Lynx coach Cheryl Reeve: Was your team prepared to take care of (Erlana Larkins) tonight?
"Obviously not."
To Augustus: Did you see anything you weren't expecting?
"No."
And then Lindsay Whalen answered the question that really mattered. Can you guys beat them?
Her answer wound through it all, through what it would take, through hustling and getting loose balls and doing the little things.
"I think that we need to make some adjustments and, like Seimone said, we pride ourselves on getting the hustle plays and those things all year, and they were making some shots and made some plays," Whalen said. "When it comes down to it, that's what it's about, making plays and finishing some shots. We know we'll be better on Wednesday."
So in the end, her answer was yes.
"It just didn't work out in our favor," Augustus said. "If we correct those things on Wednesday, we'll put the pressure back on them. They'll see what the real Minnesota Lynx basketball looks like when we're running on all cylinders."
Sunday was not the real Minnesota Lynx basketball. Far from it. They now have three days to find it before home-court advantage, their greatest asset, disappears. They were surprised once, and if their dreams of repeating are to remain intact, they can't let that happen again.
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