Eli: Sometimes I get the impression that you actually hated some of the guys on those teams, like (Larry) Bird and (Michael) Jordan.
Isiah: It was extremely personal.
Eli: Why, things that were said?
Isiah: No, you just wanted to beat the (expletive) out of them.
Eli: Why would it go beyond sports? Do you still talk to them today?
Isiah: I’ll say hello, but I’ll never be friends with them.
Eli: Just too intense back then?
Isiah: No, there’s no personal dislike. (pause) … We’re Pistons, they’re Celtics …We’re Pistons, they’re Bulls. That’s ’til the day we die.

Chuck Daly told me that he was struck by the hatred factor after the tragic playoff loss in 1987 when Bird stole the pass from Isiah in the pivotal fifth game and the Pistons lost in seven. “I wasn’t sure that we could ever beat ’em unless we hated ’em,” Chuck said. “It was like you had to hate ’em to beat ’em.”

I’m not saying that the game was better back then, but it was different. There were fewer teams and it seemed like good teams were able to sustain their excellence longer than today. Except for the Dr. J 76ers in 1983 and the two years Jordan played baseball in the mid-90s, Boston, LA, Chicago and Detroit won all the championships from 1980 to 1998. Familiarity bred discontent, and discontent led to hatred.

“The era that I grew up was very intense competition,” says Bill Laimbeer. “It was almost hatred of the other team and it still holds to this day on any players of those teams. Your teammates are all that matter and the other team is the enemy. There were some bitter rivalries and some bitter feelings … and I still won’t talk to Larry Bird.”

Whoa. That’s a long time.

Laimbeer threw Bird to the floor at the Silverdome in game three against the Celtics in 1987. Two games later, Robert Parish cold-cocked Laimbeer and drove him to the parquet at Boston Garden. Stuff like that doesn’t happen anymore largely as a result of rules created to stem the kind of violence that took place in that era.

I believe that the players of today want to win just as badly, but do a better job of compartmentalizing their competitive juices. The Pistons have no on court affection for LeBron James and Cleveland, but when the game is over, they shake hands, chat and even hug. Then again, so did Ali and Frazier after beating the snot out of each other for 15 rounds.

Could the Pistons of today ever hate like teams did in bygone days? It can only happen if some of their modern day rivals can sustain their excellence along with them. The Pacers had that potential back in 2004, but haven’t kept it up. Miami had that potential, but they too have fallen off the competitive map. And the Cavs may yet get there if they can revert to the form they had last year and forge another playoff clash or two with the Pistons.

On our pre-game show this Saturday in Chicago, we’re going to look back to the beginning of the Pistons-Bulls rivalry that began in earnest in 1988.

On January 16, 1988, the two teams met at the old Chicago Stadium. In the third quarter, Jordan drove to the hoop and was grabbed in mid-air by Rick Mahorn. The Bad Boys allowed no layups. But Mahorn lost his grip and Jordan landed awkwardly. Charles Oakley then shoved Mahorn and the two exchanged harsh words. Bulls coach Doug Collins grabbed Mahorn around the neck from behind and Mahorn swatted him to the floor. After more shoving and woofing with Mahorn, Oakley and others, Collins jumped Mahorn again and Mahorn again threw him to the floor.

Until that time, the Pistons had confined their hate to the Celtics. But when Jordan started remarking that the Pistons were bad for basketball and later called Laimbeer “The dirtiest player in the league,” the seeds of hatred were born anew.

In retrospect, you can understand why the league wanted to rid itself of such violence and vitriol. But it’s sure a helluva lot of fun to go back and relive it. Watch Saturday night at 8 and see for yourself.