There was no exaggeration in saying that Morant's whole sequence—catching the ball, faking left, stepping right to get free, dribbling behind his back to the left, then pulling the ball across and driving right—was incredibly smooth and lightning-fast.
No matter who was defending him, they would probably have been beaten by the second move. It was hard to imagine anyone holding on through the third.
Yet Wang Yi stayed right in front of Morant, as if he'd welded the door shut.
Morant simply couldn't get past him.
Unable to shake Wang Yi, Morant dribbled behind his back and pulled the ball back, retreating several steps until he reached the Logo.
Xiao Qiao tried to come up and set a pick and roll for Morant, but Morant waved him away, telling Xiao Qiao to clear out. He wanted to take Wang Yi one-on-one.
Every time Morant faced Wang Yi, he couldn't resist trying to take him on.
And after Wang Yi had just stolen the ball from him, he wanted even more to get one back.
But something was seriously wrong today.
In the past, Wang Yi could defend him tightly, but after a string of fakes or changes of direction, Morant could always create a little space and get a sliver of a chance to shoot.
But today, no matter how he shifted his feet, faked with his shoulders, or changed direction, Wang Yi stuck to him like glue, never giving him room to shoot.
With no other options, Morant dribbled once to the left, then pulled off a step-back like Harden's.
That kind of step-back was usually very difficult to defend.
But just as Morant stepped back and tried to shoot, Wang Yi was already leaping high into the air.
His arms stretched overhead like two tree branches, covering