Farewell...

Keith Langlois, the official pistons blogger, wrote a great piece about Chauncey, Dyess and Cheik that is good enough to repost entirely. I could say more about how much I love Chauncey and how much I want Dyess to come back, but if you know me, you already know how I feel about them and how much they mean to me and my love for the Pistons. Anyways, here's the article.

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They'll take a piece of Detroit's heart with them
Fifteen days ago, a wry smile pulled at Chauncey Billups’ face as he thought about what the next day would bring – a preseason visit from Ben Wallace and the Cleveland Cavaliers.

It still doesn’t sound right: Ben Wallace and anybody but the Detroit Pistons.

“Ben,” Billups said, “will always be a Piston to me.”

Less than two weeks later, he was left to the same view of the Pistons as his old teammate and fellow captain – an outsider’s perspective.

Except to Pistons Nation. For them, it’s Billups who will always be a Piston. Big Ben left as a free agent, and that closed a curtain for a significant portion of Pistons fans. It’s been two-plus seasons now and Wallace still hears a smattering of boos upon his return to The Palace from fans who felt jilted, never mind that Chicago made an offer that Joe Dumars simply could not have matched without sacrificing somebody else from that hallowed core that carried the Pistons to the 2004 NBA title.

But Chauncey Billups didn’t leave of his own choosing. When it became evident last season that Rodney Stuckey was destined for big things, it became unlikely that Mr. Big Shot would finish his career in Detroit. That’s the nature of the game these days, a byproduct of the salary-cap system that puts a premium on every dollar. When you find someone younger and cheaper capable of similar production, the goal of building a champion practically demands the choice of the cheaper alternative so resources can be directed to other needs.

The silver lining for Billups is where Joe Dumars sent him. When he saw the handwriting on the wall, he asked Joe D if it came to that, and it was at all possible, he could send him to the Nuggets, whose need at point guard was pronounced. Denver is home to Billups, where his extended family still resides and where they have never forgotten the greatest high school player in Denver history. Or the favorite son who stayed home to play college basketball at the University of Colorado, taking a bereft basketball program to the NCAA tournament in his sophomore season before entering the NBA draft and becoming the No. 3 pick in the 1997 draft.

“Bittersweet,” Chauncey told Joe D when he told him of the trade – and where he was going. Leaving Detroit is bitter for him. He adopted it as his second home. But going to Denver is sweet.

All his successes with the Pistons were celebrated nearly as much in the Mile High City as they were in the Motor City. The Denver newspapers followed Billups throughout the great playoff runs he captained over his six seasons as the point guard Joe Dumars chose to restore the Pistons to glory – and all six of those seasons ended with the Pistons no worse than one of the last four teams standing.

That’s a remarkable record of achievement for the man who became the face of the franchise.

And he became that not only for what he did on the 94 feet of hardwood at The Palace. He became that for how he wove himself into the fabric of Detroit. Chauncey Billups took his role as one of Detroit’s most recognized and celebrated faces seriously. He plunged himself into civic work, setting up charities here and buying thousands of Pistons tickets a season so underprivileged kids could come see the team they otherwise knew only as larger-than-life TV characters. Whenever the reporters who follow the team wanted a reaction or an explanation, it was Billups who unfailingly stood up and voiced his teammates’ perspective.

Champions always earn a special place in the heart of the city where they lay claim to greatness, and Detroiters hold them nearer than most. Which is why it’s equally remarkable how Pistons fans came to view Antonio McDyess – also sent to Denver – because McDyess became a Piston one month too late to celebrate that 2004 title.

He came within a heartbeat of winning one of his own the following June, but the Pistons lost Game 7 at San Antonio in 2005, McDyess’ first season as a Piston. The last three years, the train has stopped at Game 6 of the Eastern Conference finals for the Pistons and nobody has felt that anguish quite like McDyess, a man whose heart is permanently attached to his sleeve. Pistons fans anguished right along with him. All their other favorite players – Chauncey and Rip, Sheed and Tay and Big Ben – at least they had their title. Dice didn’t – and Pistons fans felt his pain. How could you miss it? It was there on his face, heartfelt pain impossible to miss.

The guy you didn’t get to know, Cheikh Samb, was a truly gentle soul with kind eyes whom his teammates immediately warmed to. Rasheed Wallace, the Pistons’ unofficial welcoming committee, called him “Cheeks,” which caught on, and he was one of those players who made everybody smile. He grew up in Senegal and was discovered by Pistons international scouting guru Tony Ronzone. Tony told me that when he visited Senegal, he could not believe how warm and friendly everybody in the country was. That was Cheikh Samb. Nobody knows how good he can become, but he’ll have people rooting for him every step of the way.

The Allen Iverson era starts tonight. And Pistons fans are rightfully excited to see how it plays out. Iverson is pure electricity, one of those exceedingly rare athletes who causes eyeballs to Velcro to his every movement.

But before he pulls on Chauncey Billups’ old No. 1 tonight, it’s worth a minute to remember what the players the Pistons sacrificed to get him meant to the Pistons – and to the place the Pistons call home.

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As always, go big or go home. More on Barack tomorrow.

-M, p, z & shredder