Wang Yi thought the only person who could help Zhang Jiacheng out of his current predicament was Pang Bo.
He turned to look toward the Raptors' bench.
As fellow Chinese, Pang Bo should understand Zhang Jiacheng's predicament and lend him a hand.
If Wang Yi had to tell Pang Bo about it before he would realize, then he would be far too dense.
At that moment, the commentators courtside were Stephen A. Smith and Bales.
Watching the Kings' lineup choices and adjustments in the first quarter, Bales shook his head and said:
"You've all been talking up Wang Yi's coaching ability. Well, look at this. In the first few possessions of the first quarter, their interior got demolished by Pang Tong. He should've made adjustments a long time ago—double-team Pang, or at least put someone else on Pang Bo so he'd have to face a different kind of defense and lose his offensive rhythm."
"But what did Wang Yi do in the first quarter? Nothing. He just stuck to the game plan. That's why they're now trailing the Raptors by seven."
Stephen A. Smith shook his head. "With Wang Yi's ability to make adjustments, I'm sure he noticed the problem a long time ago. But he hasn't made any changes today, so there must be a reason."
Bales laughed. His hoarse laughter sounded grating.
"A reason? Then tell me what it is. This is clearly a problem with his coaching ability. The Kings are currently ranked first in the Entire League only because Wang Yi's individual ability is so outstanding that it covers up his shortcomings as a coach..."
If an ordinary commentator heard Bales make that kind of accusation, he might have struggled to find a rebuttal. But Stephen A. Smith wasn't an ordinary commentator—he was a famous American