Only then did everyone realize what had happened:
"Holy crap, he didn't dunk on his own basket—he was making an assist!"
"What a pass! What a pass! That was incredible!"
The commentator couldn't help exclaiming, "He used the rebound off his own team's backboard to send the ball flying downcourt. What an imaginative, creative pass!"
"I'd dare say no one in the entire history of basketball has ever made a pass like that."
"This guy's passing is absolutely insane!"
At the same time, the big screen showed Wang Yi's steals for the night:
28!
He had broken the single-game steals record he'd set at an earlier international tournament.
A system notification sounded in his mind:
"Full Court Press!"
Qiqi had been guarding Serbia's shooting guard, Cong Keyong, tightly.
They hadn't paid much attention to guarding Qiqi's steals. Over the past few possessions, they'd kept the ball away from him, but even so, Qiqi had found an opening and stolen it.
Like a white bolt of lightning, he darted behind Micic.
Zhang Jiacheng and Pang Bo ran a pick and roll, but Pang Bo's shot was off. His bank shot at the rim wouldn't go in.
Under the rules, although a team had two timeouts in the fourth quarter, one had to be saved for the final two minutes.
At that moment, though, Qiqi had already seen it coming. He raced toward Micic.
His steal success rate had also reached 62%.
All the fancy techniques were secondary. The most fundamental thing in basketball was putting the ball in the hoop.
The lead was 12 points.
It was hard for Funovi to shake him off and get the ball, so their only real chance was with their point guard, Micic.
But this time, as soon as Jovic got the ball, Qiqi abandoned