After Tagore got the ball, there was no one within three meters of him, but he still didn't dare shoot a three. After all, his three-point shot wasn't very accurate.
He dribbled straight toward the paint, drawing the defense before passing out to Wang Yi on the perimeter.
The Timberwolves had just sent three players to the paint to fight for the rebound and another to guard Tagore, so now the only defender in front of Wang Yi was their Small Forward, Tim Pick.
For Wang Yi, being guarded by just one player was practically a free basket.
If he wanted two points, it would be easy. He only had to make a simple feint, get past Tim Pick, and take a mid-range shot.
But he had already decided he was going to shoot threes and extend the lead.
So instead of driving, he caught the ball, quickly lowered his center of gravity, and took a powerful step forward with his right foot.
At the same time, he instantly put the ball on the floor.
It looked as if he was about to drive, so Tim Pick hurriedly took two steps backward.
But Wang Yi's dribble had been nothing more than a stationary dribble.
As Tim Pick retreated, Wang Yi had already gathered the ball and pulled his right foot back beyond the three-point line.
He jumped and shot.
Tim Pick never even had a chance to close out. Wang Yi had faked him into retreating.
Once Wang Yi was in the air, the shot felt great, and the ball's arc was beautiful.
As soon as it left his hands, he felt certain it would go in.
Sure enough!
Bang!
The ball struck the front of the rim and bounced high into the air.
It missed!
That was how basketball