Oklahoma Noodlers 49-33 (3-5)

So Cal Surf 50-32 (5-3)

Score (click for boxscore)	Game MVP	Hi Points	Hi Rebounds	Hi Assists
1. Surf 103, Noodlers 85	John Stockton	28 Terry Porter	15 Dennis Rodman	12 Terry Porter
2. Surf 119, Noodlers 111	Mitch Richmond	29 Mitch Richmond	12 Moses Malone	9 John Stockton
3. Noodlers 113, Surf 104	Terry Porter	29 Chris Mullin	13 Dennis Rodman	14 John Stockton
4. Noodlers 124, Surf 117	Terry Porter	30 Chris Mullin	11 M.Malone/Ho.Grant	15 John Stockton
5. Surf 118, Noodlers 110	Chris Mullin	42 Chris Mullin	10 Mitch Richmond	16 John Stockton
6. Noodlers 123, Surf 84	Jeff Hornacek	33 Jeff Hornacek	8 Moses Malone	10 J.Stockton/T.Porter
7. at So Cal

Game 1 – April 17, 1990. The Fabulous Forum. A scene set not merely for a basketball contest, but for a sporting tableau that unfolded like a Shakespearean drama. This… is Howard Cosell. Ladies and gentlemen, what we witnessed tonight was not simply a game of basketball—it was a dissection. A dismantling. A dismantling, I say, of a once-proud Oklahoma squad by a So Cal machine orchestrated with surgical precision. The protagonists? John Stockton, the diminutive dynamo from Spokane, the cerebral architect of the hardwood. Nineteen points. Ten assists. He played the game not with brute force but with guile—like a chess grandmaster who sees twelve moves ahead. Chris Mullin—ah yes, that left-handed assassin with the silken jumper—twenty-three points, ice-cold from the stripe and deadlier than a tax auditor in April. He moved with the rhythm of a Broadway number, his every release a metronome of scoring artistry. Now let’s speak of Terry Porter—Oklahoma’s lone beacon in an otherwise overcast affair. Twenty-eight points, twelve assists, and a spirit that refused to yield. A brilliant performance drowned in a sea of inefficacy as his comrades floundered with a woeful 34.7% from the field. It was, frankly, a shooting performance that brought to mind the phrase: “can’t hit the broad side of a barn.” And Dennis Rodman—The Worm. Eight rebounds, four points, but always in the thick of it, hustling like the rent was due yesterday. But the story, friends, is told in the numbers and the numbers alone: So Cal, 103. Oklahoma, 85. Efficiency, elegance, and execution. So Cal didn’t merely win. They delivered a statement. And the message was clear: “We are not here to participate. We are here to dominate.” From the Fabulous Forum in Inglewood, this is Howard Cosell—saying goodnight, and may the game always be this grand.

Game 2 – This is Howard Cosell… and tonight, from the gleaming wood of The Fabulous Forum, we bring you a tale told in two acts—each more captivating than the last. It is the story of So Cal and Oklahoma. A tale of contrast, of comeback, of command. Act II: April 19, 1990. The Blitz. Oklahoma came storming out, spurred by a more balanced attack. Hugh Grant—pardon me, Horace—was Herculean: 21 points, 10 rebounds. The bench roared to life with 53 points, outscoring So Cal’s reserves nearly two to one. At halftime, the scoreboard read 53–52 in favor of Oklahoma—a sliver of hope flickering in the California lights. And then came the third quarter. Ah, that fateful third quarter. So Cal unleashed a 39-point barrage, a hurricane of ball movement, defensive tenacity, and clutch shooting. Mitch Richmond, the game’s eventual MVP, attacked like a man with something to prove—29 points, 13 of them from the stripe. Mullin? Surgical once again. Stockton? The conductor of chaos. It was a twelve-minute takeover. Oklahoma managed 28 points of their own, but it felt hollow in the face of So Cal’s ascendance. From that point forward, it was merely academic. So Cal held firm, sealing a 119–111 victory and commanding a 2–0 series lead. So, ladies and gentlemen, what do we make of this twin-bill tale? We saw Porter’s poise, Grant’s grit, and Oklahoma’s spirit. But ultimately, it was So Cal—flexing depth, discipline, and destiny—who emerged not just victorious, but vindicated. In back-to-back performances, they demonstrated the poetry of teamwork and the power of timing. From The Fabulous Forum, where legends collide and moments crystallize into memory, this is Howard Cosell—reminding you, as ever: the game is not merely played… it is revealed.

Game 3 – This is Howard Cosell… from McNichols Arena in Denver, where the thin air was matched only by the thin margin separating destiny from defeat. On this brisk April evening in 1990, the Oklahoma squad, once down in this compelling series, roared back with the fire of redemption to claim a pivotal 113–104 victory over So Cal, cutting the series deficit to 2–1. And the driving force? That indomitable floor general, Terry Porter—a maestro with 21 points and 8 assists—whose calm under pressure and precision passing earned him rightful claim to the Game MVP crown. But let’s not overlook the supporting cast. Dell Curry lit it up with 24 on pure marksmanship. Dennis Rodman, all elbows and energy, yanked down 13 rebounds, dived for loose balls, and patrolled the paint like a border guard on high alert. And off the bench—ah yes, the bench!—Jeff Hornacek’s 16-point burst turned momentum like a roulette wheel finally landing in red. So Cal, for their part, did not go quietly. Chris Mullin, as graceful as a ballerina, poured in 29 on an ultra-efficient 13-for-22 clip. And Mitch Richmond, the firebrand from Fort Lauderdale, added 26, refusing to concede an inch of hardwood real estate. John Stockton, steady as ever, handed out 14 assists with the poise of a surgeon—but alas, not even his wizardry could halt the Oklahoma surge. The tale of the tape? Oklahoma’s bench outscored So Cal’s 37–17, while they also shot a steely 81% from the free throw line, sealing the deal in the final frame. Despite trailing by as many as 21, Oklahoma turned this contest around with a 35-point fourth quarter, leaving no doubt who owned the closing curtain. And so, the series now stands at 2–1, momentum twisting its head like a confused referee watching a Rodman rebound scrum. What lies ahead? Only the game knows—and it never reveals its secrets early. From the Mile High City, this is Howard Cosell. And tonight, the thunder belonged to the underdogs.

Game 4 – This is Howard Cosell… April 23, 1990. McNichols Arena. A raucous crowd. A pivotal Game 4. And what unfolded? A symphonic spectacle of speed, skill, and sheer will. Oklahoma—resurgent, relentless—has evened the series at 2-2 with a 124–117 victory over So Cal in a game that exploded in a fourth-quarter crescendo. The hero? Once again, Terry Porter, the cerebral conductor in crimson, dishing 14 assists and scoring 25 with calm, clinical poise. He earns back-to-back Game MVP honors, his fingerprints all over this dramatic page of basketball lore. But let us wind the clock. The first quarter belonged to Oklahoma, roaring out with 37 points, like a pack of greyhounds unleashed. So Cal responded—Chris Mullin with 30 points, John Stockton dealing 15 assists, Moses Malone bulldozing to 25 and 11 boards—and clawed back with a dazzling second and third frame. Then came the fourth—ah, that final stanza! Oklahoma posted 42 points, bench contributors like Hornacek, Short, and Kerr erupting to the tune of 51 total bench points, a contrast to So Cal’s paltry 17. Defensive stops turned into offensive rhythms, foul shots dropped with mechanical confidence, and the depth of Oklahoma surged forth like a hidden tide. The story in numbers? Oklahoma shot 57.9% from the field and a crisp 84.2% from the line. So Cal kept pace with 51.3% shooting and 15 fastbreak points, yet missed key chances in the clutch. The lead changed hands eight times, with 11 ties, before Oklahoma thundered home to seal the deal. And so, the battle now stands knotted at two games apiece, the stage reset, the drama heightened. From the rim-rattling roar in Denver, I leave you with this: “It was not just a contest—it was a reckoning. The pendulum has swung, and the echo… still rings.” The Forum awaits, and the story’s next chapter remains unwritten.

Game 5 – This is Howard Cosell… returning to The Fabulous Forum, where fortunes shift, and legends cement their fates. April 25, 1990. Game 5. A series on edge. And in the glare of the Hollywood lights, So Cal rises, seizing an emphatic 118–110 victory over Oklahoma to take a 3–2 lead in this dizzying drama of hardwood warfare. Let me begin with the evening’s virtuoso—Chris Mullin, the left-handed luminary from Brooklyn, who performed not just like a star… but like the constellation. Mullin poured in 42 points on 19-of-26 shooting, threading buckets like pearls on a champion’s necklace. His jumper was poetry, his footwork ballet. If the game were played on parchment, Mullin’s performance would be penned in calligraphy. Now, to the general—John Stockton. Sixteen assists. A conductor guiding an orchestra of precision. He found lanes others couldn’t see and threads others wouldn’t dare pull. And behind him, Karl Malone, churning through defenders with 19 points and 9 boards, a sledgehammer in sneakers. As for Oklahoma, it was Jeff Hornacek who shone brightest. Twenty-five points on near-immaculate shooting. Terry Porter did his part, chipping in 20 and a dozen dishes. But the shadow loomed large—Dennis Rodman, after picking up two technicals, found himself ejected, his fury snuffed and his presence removed. The energy he provides? Irreplaceable. Oklahoma’s bench kept it close with 38 points, outpacing So Cal’s second unit. But the game’s tale was written in field goal percentage—So Cal’s 56.8% eclipsed Oklahoma’s admirable 51.2%, and down the stretch, Mullin’s will was ineluctable. No lead changes. No ties. Just control. Steady. Relentless. So Cal now leads the series 3–2. From the Forum, where flashbulbs flare and icons emerge from the fog, this is Howard Cosell reminding you: “Sometimes the game is not about who fights hardest. It’s about who lands last.”

Game 6 – This is Howard Cosell… with the winds howling in Denver and the echoes of Game 6 ringing louder than any stadium anthem. April 27, 1990. McNichols Arena. A moment not just of competition, but of confirmation. Oklahoma, trailing in the series, came not to survive—but to dominate, uncorking a performance so emphatic it felt like a heavyweight’s knockout in the second round. The final score: 123–84. A 39-point thrashing. A message sent with volume.The conductor of this clinic? None other than Jeff Hornacek, a man who played the game like a jazz solo—improvised, fluid, and bold. With 33 points on 15-of-21 shooting, 8 assists, and 6 steals, he wove through defenders like a tailback on turf. Precision? Absolute. Decision-making? Ruthless. He was, without exaggeration, the master of ceremonies. Flanking him, Dell Curry lit the fuse with 24 points and four threes, while Dennis Rodman, ever the chaos artist, played disciplined havoc—grabbing boards, disrupting lanes, and rattling So Cal’s composure. Terry Porter, the ever-reliable general, dropped 10 dimes, only adding to So Cal’s unraveling. Meanwhile, So Cal—oh, poor So Cal—looked like a shell of its former brilliance. Mullin fought valiantly, erupting for 30 points, but his efforts were solitary in a sea of disconnect. Stockton, Richmond, and Malone combined for just 22 points. Turnovers bloomed like spring weeds, defensive rotations lagged, and the offense lacked its usual rhythm. The stats? Brutal poetry: Oklahoma shot a scorching 63.9%, including 7-of-10 from three. Fastbreak points favored Oklahoma 22–6. The bench sparkled once more with 30 points, maintaining depth supremacy. The game had zero lead changes—Oklahoma seized the reins and never looked back, pushing their lead to a staggering 41 points at its peak. And now, as the dust settles on McNichols wood and the series stands tied at 3–3, we prepare for the ultimate crucible: Game 7. One game to define legacies, to immortalize names, and to settle a saga with no room left for nuance. From Denver, this is Howard Cosell. And I say to you: The heart of a champion is not revealed in victory… it is forged in the fire of response.

Game 7 –