At that moment, the hearts of the Kings' countless fans had already sunk halfway. They knew Wang Yi could always work miracles, but his performance tonight hadn't looked especially explosive.
He had scored 35 points, grabbed 11 rebounds, and dished out 6 assists.
If you judged him as an ordinary star, those stats were certainly good enough. But he was Wang Yi.
For Wang Yi, those numbers were a little lacking.
The Kings players were all silent as they came off the court.
All except three.
One was Rose, who never gave up. Another was Doug, who fought back whenever he felt wronged. And the third was Wang Yi, who only got more excited when faced with adversity.
Wang Yi stared at the scoreboard and the timer.
44.2 seconds. Down by 8.
A comeback wasn't impossible. Someone had done it before.
But as Popo looked at those 44.2 seconds and the eight-point lead, he couldn't help feeling uneasy.
His red, bulbous nose seemed even redder now.
After a moment, he turned to look toward the Kings' Resting Area.
Wang Yi was staring at the timer, too.
Popo felt a little uneasy.
People were forgetful.
They had forgotten that night, 25 years ago.
That miraculous 13 points in 35 seconds had begun with the Spurs leading by 8 with 44.2 seconds left.
That night, Old Master Bo had suffered what was arguably the greatest humiliation of his career.
Ever since, whenever anyone brought up 13 points in 35 seconds, they also mentioned its victims: the Spurs and their coach, Popo.
Popo's stunned, helpless, and aggrieved expression from that night had appeared countless times on all kinds of screens.
And it had all been because of that damn number 1.
Now, the number 0 across from him was staring at the scoreboard