In the Pelicans' locker room, Rondo was also trying to fire up his players.
"I know Wang Yi's threes scared you just now. Don't deny it—you were scared by his threes, and so was I. Nobody could watch shots like that and not be scared. That guy is ridiculous."
"But we need to look past appearances and see what's really going on. Any player who keeps taking threes like that is going to burn through a huge amount of energy."
"You could see it in those last two shots. His energy had clearly dropped a lot. He missed two threes in a row, and you could see that his shooting form had changed."
"So his three-point percentage will definitely drop in the second half. Then our group of three-point shooters needs to turn the tables and put pressure on him. Only if our shooters can contain him will we be able to make up the deficit."
The three-point shooters all sat in silence.
Clearly, they were still caught up in the memory of Wang Yi's terrifying threes.
Seeing this, Rondo shook his head to himself.
He already had a feeling that it would be very hard to turn things around today, but as head coach, he couldn't show the slightest hint of discouragement.
He looked at Messi and Guinness. "I heard you just bet Wang Yi you could outshoot him from three?"
The two of them didn't dare look up.
Zion spoke up instead. "That's right. I told them to take the bet. We can't let Wang Yi intimidate us."
Rondo shook his head. "You fell right into Wang Yi's trap."
The group of three-point shooters—Messi, Shane Battier, and Guinness—stared at Rondo in surprise.
Zion was confused too.
They'd made a fair bet on threes out on the court. How