With everyone watching, Wang Yi finally took the court.
For his first shot, he decided to try a three-pointer.
After receiving the ball, he shot from just beyond the three-point line, with no one guarding him.
Unfortunately, the three-pointer missed.
It seemed his three-point touch still hadn't returned.
He used to have a Three-point Percentage of 50%, but after retiring, he'd stopped practicing, and his Three-point Percentage had dropped.
His shots no longer felt as smooth as they used to, with that sense of inevitability. Now, they seemed almost aimless.
He couldn't find his touch at all.
It seemed that besides working on his conditioning, he'd have to get his three-point shot back as soon as possible.
Without a three-pointer, relying on nothing but his mid-range shot might work in the Regular Season.
But in the Playoffs, against a defense designed to stop him, he'd be finished.
Back in the day, James had used his Tank Break to dominate the Regular Season.
His Tank Break had even been powerful enough to bulldoze through the East.
But in the Finals, when he faced Old Master Bo, who stuck to the strategy of letting him shoot while shutting down his drives, James was at a loss.
Wang Yi's three-pointer missed, and the opposing five grabbed the long rebound and quickly pushed the fast break.
The opposing team's backup Shooting Guard eventually scored a two-pointer right in front of Wang Yi.
Then he looked at Wang Yi and started trash-talking. "You know my nickname's the Little Prince of Mid-Range?"
Wang Yi smiled faintly and shook his head.
That Shooting Guard was a rookie this year, too.
He'd been picked fairly high, seventh overall in the First Round.
He was young and fearless.
When he saw Wang Yi shake his head, he took