It could be any

Sunday, any weekend. The only constant is the time. It must be late, usually an hour until a child's bedtime. I'm tired. Both children have spent endless, aimless hours gazing at the television or whining about being bored. Neither was in any hurry to do anything for the past 48 hours. At this propitious moment, invariably, someone will exclaim, in total panic, "Dad you have to take me back to mom's. I forgot my trumpet (hat, biology book, guitar strings, blue soccer socks, watch, shampoo -- only this particular shampoo will do -- or shoes)." Each has been queried repeatedly during the long weekend if they need anything else, because this is "The last trip back to Mom's I'm going to make!" This is of no more concern to my offspring than the battle to balance the federal budget. My kids tend to think of things at the last minute. I don't know where they pick up habits like that.

Houston: The Summit, home of the Rockets, is the most fan-friendly basketball arena in America. It seats over 18,000, yet has the feel of a moderate-sized college gym. The public concourses are wide, filled with natural light. More bright, peppy food alternatives await the fan than the food court at Highland Mall. Naturally, Rockets ownership wants a new stadium.

It's also a building where the Rockets have developed an unhealthy habit of waiting until the last minute to do important things, like winning ballgames. Nine of Houston's 39 games were decided on the final play. You could make a positive out of this odd statistic and say, "They're playing everyone tough." Or, you might posit that defending world champions should not be involved in tight ballgames with basketball bottom-feeders like Boston, Toronto, and Dallas. On a dreary, foggy Sunday in Houston, with an eagerly anticipated rematch of last year's championship series at hand, this identical conundrum will come into play.

The Orlando Magic, a lousy road team, are playing the last game of the longest road trip of the year, and not a very successful one at that. Orlando has only one road win against teams with a winning record. They should be tired, ready to go home. It's a game they should lose.

In fact, both teams have successfully battled steady adversity this year. We all know of Houston's woes. Not so clearly focused are the problems of Orlando. The Magic's regular line-up have started only four games this year. This includes major injuries to Shaquille O'Neal and Horace Grant, match-up nightmares for all teams. Still -- save your tears -- good teams overcome. Orlando leads the Atlantic Division by five games. Houston's only percentage points out of first in the Midwest.

The game's superstars,

Hakeem Olajuwon and O'Neal, effectively cancel each other out. Though it's the Dream's 33rd birthday, O'Neal refuses to let him hog the cake. Shaq's 29 points go along with a game-high 16 rebounds. The big man threw in one blocked shot. Hakeem scores 30, with 11 rebounds, and doubles Shaq's blocks. So, as the behemoths are tossing lightning bolts at each other, it's left to the lesser gods to decide the game.

Sam Cassell, a throwaway late first-round draft pick in 1994, has, unexpectedly, blossomed as one of the best point guards. He took over for Kenny Smith, who suffered through an ugly afternoon (0-5 in 15 minutes). Cassell, grinning, smirking, and popping bubble gum for 33 minutes, had his normal, hard-nosed, pugnacious game. Every game statistic was virtually the same, save one. The Rockets impaled themselves on the three-point line, shooting three of 22 (13%). The thin blue line is where this game was lost.

This matchup, though ballyhooed by the national media and well-played by both clubs, in truth exposed the glaring soft underbelly of the league. Any individual game, no matter who's playing who, means nothing. You play 82 grinding basketball games, only to start completely over, at 0-0, when the playoffs commence. Orlando "swept" the two-game season series. Last June, Houston swept the only series of import, 4-0. After the game, in the mobbed Orlando locker room, guard Penny Hardaway talked of how "Winning close games really helps down the road." Well, he was asked a question and had to say something. The players know this basic fact-of-life even if the hysterical fans, wailing on talk-radio about lack of hustle or intensity, do not: Regular season games are meaningless.

An inherent danger of developing a last-minute habit is that the car will run out of gas or you'll miss that plane. If you covet stability and predictability, it's not a good way to live. For the 10th time this year, it's a one-point game. No margin for error allowed. Houston has the ball with 4.5 seconds to play, down one at 97-96. Cassell takes the inbounds pass from Robert Horry. For a brief moment, as everyone looks for the pass that must come to Olajuwon, a wide lane to the hoop opens for Cassell. Many players would never take this shot, preferring to let the superstar take the heat for failure, but fearlessness, one of Cassell's virtues, propels him down the open lane. But the train had left the station. n Write me: [email protected]