There were still more than 20 seconds on the clock, so Wang Yi had plenty of time to handle the ball. But he didn't hesitate—he rose up and launched a three.
Another Midcourt Three-pointer.
Everyone in the arena—the commentators, the Knicks fans, the Raptors fans, and the players on both teams—once again went through the same emotions as before.
The Raptors players and fans were filled with hope and anticipation. The Knicks players and fans were filled with dread.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the tiny basketball.
That little ball was far too young to be carrying so much on its shoulders.
It stumbled through the air, straining as it slowly crawled toward the rim.
In that moment,
the image seemed frozen.
Every spectator, referee, player, and coach watched motionlessly as the ball crawled through the air.
Then, suddenly—
Swish!
Like a javelin, the ball plunged diagonally through the net.
Three-pointer!
121–119.
The Raptors were up by two!
And only 18 seconds remained.
The arena fell silent.
The Knicks fans who had been shouting "Fuck King" fell abruptly quiet.
Spike Lee, who had been taunting Wang Yi from the sidelines, suddenly went limp and sank back into his chair.
There were still 20 seconds left, and plenty of time for another possession.
However,
Spike Lee had been at odds with Wang Yi for years. He knew Wang Yi far too well.
Once Wang Yi had the advantage, turning things around was practically impossible.
As the Knicks headed to the bench, head coach Thibodeau wore a deep frown, his expression grave.
King Arthur's brow was furrowed too, his expression just as serious. That familiar feeling had returned.
Wang Yi had beaten him too many times before. Every time, it had felt like this.
It was a terrible feeling. A truly terrible