Memphis, FedExForum.
It was 7:55 p.m., five minutes before the game was set to tip off.
Popovich was chewing out their Point Guard, who had also won Defensive Player of the Year that season.
"You could've just gone for a layup. Why did you have to do a circus layup?"
"Save those circus shots for our own court. Why do them during warmups?"
"First of all, practicing circus layups is completely pointless. Are you really going to use one in a game?"
"Second, doing a circus layup during warmups will be taken as a provocation. It'll rile up the other team and make them pull together even more."
"This is Game Seven. We can't afford to be careless. We can't let anything happen that gives our opponents an advantage. Do you understand?"
Old Master Bo's voice grew louder and louder, spittle flying.
His gaze grew sharper, and his face darkened.
The Defensive Player of the Year didn't dare say a word. He could only lower his head and nod again and again.
That was Old Master Bo.
Other coaches coddled their star players, afraid of upsetting them.
But Old Master Bo just opened his mouth and laid into them.
Back in the day, Ginobili and Parker of the Spurs had taken plenty of scolding from him.
Wang Yi watched and gave a slight shake of his head.
The old man was already eighty, and he still had such a fiery temper?
The game between the two teams began.
To counter Morant's instinctive style of play, Old Master Bo had devised a specific defensive strategy.
He didn't double-team Morant.
Instead, he had the team's Defensive Player of the Year take the lead in hounding him.
But he didn't have him guard Morant every possession. Out of every five possessions, he assigned