The Great Wall Will Never Fall
Morant's arrival seemed, at first, to break the balance between the two teams.
He kept drawing fouls from China Team's big men, and his constant fast breaks left them struggling to keep up.
China's head coach, Du Feng, had only one demand for his players: slow the game down.
There was no way they could beat Team America in a race, so they had to rely on their height.
So, with Yi Jianlian and Zhou Qi already in the paint, he put Wang Zhelin on the floor as well.
A three-tower lineup.
In this small-ball era, even twin-tower lineups had nearly disappeared, let alone a three-tower lineup.
The moment this lineup appeared, the commentators and fans in the arena burst into laughter.
"This China coach is still stuck in the ancient past."
"Did his internet café only just get connected?"
Du Feng, however, wasn't fazed.
He knew James feared big men in the paint most of all.
With three big men stationed inside, James had lost at least forty percent of his game.
After all, one of James's signature moves was the Tank Break: charging into the paint and forcing up a shot at the rim.
Now, with three towering big men waiting inside, James would get swatted if he drove in.
Morant was explosive, but with the paint packed with big men, he'd have little room to break through.
If he couldn't get into the paint, Team America had lost another forty percent of its game.
All they had left were fast breaks and three-pointers.
And as it happened, their three-point shooting had been decent today.
But whenever they missed a three, the rebound was guaranteed to go to China Team.
China Team had practically every player crashing the boards.
Wang Zhelin, Yi