It usually doesn't work like this. Teams don't win games where they blow gigantic leads. What often happens is the lead starts to dwindle ... they start getting nervous, even though they shouldn't ... it slips away more ... they start freaking out ... they're suddenly behind ... they scramble helplessly ... they lose.

	When her teammates shots were going clank and clang, Kedra Holland-Corn came up big for Detroit in Game 2 on Sunday.

Then they say, "We had that game! What happened?''

However, the Detroit Shock somehow avoided that familiar script. Right when you thought the season had slipped through their fingers and the Los Angeles Sparks had proven their experience was just too much to overcome, all of a sudden the ending had a twist.

Detroit's 62-61 victory in Game 2 of the WNBA Finals on Sunday was strange enough that at first, the Shock actually looked more relieved/surprised than jubilant when the horn sounded.

Now, big leads most of the time don't turn into cliffhangers. But it does happen in all sports.

It actually seems somewhat a regularity in tennis Grand Slam tournaments; sometime during the two weeks, at least one player will lose a huge advantage and then the match itself.

Just last week Andy Roddick rallied from match-point down in the third set to win a U.S. Open semifinal. Net-heads will remember a famous collapse by Gabriela Sabatini in the quarterfinals of the 1993 French Open, when she was up 6-1, 5-1 and yet lost to Mary Joe Fernandez. A lot of folks thought Sabatini never really recovered her competitive edge after that, and she retired within a few years.

But I've always thought this phenomenon was easier to explain psychologically in tennis, since it's one person vs. one person. So you're dealing with this panic and subsequent transfer of momentum with just two brains.

One person gets far down and either gets mad and starts playing better or gets relaxed and starts playing better. The other person could still have a pretty big lead, but because just a little bit of it has been lost, the fear factor sets in.

I can't let this get away, can I? How awful will I feel if I do that? It's the worst way to lose! What the heck is wrong with me? I had him/her buried!

And then, it's just too easy for the wheels to start coming off. And, in tennis, you have no one to help you tighten the lug nuts. You crash or save yourself all on your own.

However, it's a testament to the concept of "group think'' that it does happen pretty much the exact same way in team sports. No matter how many brains are involved.

Part of what changed Sunday was adjustments made by L.A. at halftime, when Detroit led 38-22. The Sparks absolutely played their way back into the game.

Even so, the second-half slipaway was not just the Sparks' defense shutting down the Shock's offense. It was Detroit shutting itself down. And, again, how many times have you seen this? It happens even to the best of teams.

Swish is replaced with clank. Clank. Double clank. Nothin' but air. Turnover. Mad look. Clank. Your turn to clank. Frustrated look. You clankety clank-clank. Worried look. Rim-shattering clank. I can't even dribble. Clank. Who are you passing to? Clank. Despondent look. Mega-clank. Bizarre sight of ball actually going through hoop. Too late. One last clank. Loss.

That appeared to be the Shock's path, falling behind 61-57 after L.A.'s 11-0 run. However, Kedra Holland-Corn broke up the familiar sound of the ball hitting iron on Detroit's end and instead delivered a little string music.

L.A. had a clank of its own. Then Detroit's Deanna Nolan got fouled, and to be honest, you were waiting for another clank.

Didn't happen, as she made both foul shots. Still, L.A. had the ball with 12.1 seconds left and the player, Lisa Leslie, you'd most want on your side in that situation.

I'll go ahead and say right now I think Leslie deserved season MVP and got my vote for it. I don't care how many games she missed. Can there be anybody more frustrating to guard? She does everything well, and she never loses her intensity. She's big, strong, fast, smart. Even when she's not playing all-world, you know that any second she might shift into that gear.

Which is why Ruth Riley's effort on Sunday is worthy of applause. Leslie is quicker, more experienced. Plus, Riley was struggling with her own offense in the second half (see aforementioned clanks), and it's hard not to let that ruin your defense.

But Riley hung in as best she could against Leslie, and it paid off. Sure, there could have been a foul called against Swin Cash for her bump into DeLisha Milton, which contributed to Milton's losing the ball during the game's final seconds.

Yet as much bumping and grinding as went on in this game, you couldn't really be surprised a foul wasn't called. Then the ball got away from Leslie, too.

And Detroit had survived the kind of game teams often don't survive.

Mechelle Voepel of the Kansas City Star is a regular contributor to ESPN.com. She can be reached at mvoepel@kcstar.com.