Pierce, standing nearby, was also stunned. For a long moment, he couldn't say a word.
After making the shot, Wang Yi turned straight toward Spike Lee at courtside. "This is for you!"
To be honest, Spike Lee was starting to feel a little uneasy. This guy could even make a shot like that? What the hell was he?
Was it a lucky shot?
How many lucky shots had he made since the game started?
Was this guy treating lucky shots like a regular weapon?
That was just ridiculous.
But as the reigning champion of trash talk, he still stood up and pointed at Wang Yi, cursing him out. "You're just a dumbass chucking up blind shots! You make one lucky shot and start acting like you're hot shit?"
Wang Yi wasn't surprised that Spike Lee still wasn't backing down.
He'd played against the Knicks for years, and Spike Lee had been there every season.
Every game, he was the same way, cursing from start to finish.
Wang Yi was used to it by now.
But he was sure that by the end of the game, Spike Lee would obediently shut that stubborn mouth of his.
Over the next two minutes, Wang Yi didn't take any more shots himself.
When he faced a Two-man Trap, he passed the ball to Frank three times. Frank only made one of the shots.
Meanwhile, the Knicks made good on every one of their possessions over those two minutes.
The first quarter ended with the score tied at 42.
Both teams had been incredibly efficient on offense.
The Raptors had Wang Yi, who'd made all kinds of Divine Shots.
He'd made a turnaround floater with his back to the basket;
He'd made a deep three while facing a triple-team;
He'd even made a wild shot