The following night, Madison Square Garden.
When the Chicago Bulls emerged from the players' tunnel, everyone saw the same thing—Patrick Ewing was at the front, his knee wrapped in thick bandages, his steps even heavier than the night before;
Karl Malone followed behind, expressionless, but the dark circles beneath his eyes gave him away;
Michael Jordan came last. The sound of his sneakers striking the floor was still firm, but there was something indescribable on his face—not fatigue, but something deeper, something heavier.
At the commentary desk, Kevin Harlan flipped open the starting lineup sheet, glanced at it, then shook his head.
"The Bulls' starting lineup is the same as in Game 1," he said. "Harper, Jordan, Malone, Kukoc, Ewing. Frank Hamblen hasn't changed his three-big lineup. He has no other choice."
Bill Walton nodded. "When your team is inferior to its opponent in terms of talent, there are only two things you can do—either adjust your strategy, or execute your existing strategy better. Hamblen chose the latter. He's betting that the Game 1 loss came down to poor execution, not a flaw in the strategy itself."
Marv Albert sighed. "The problem is, the Knicks won't give him a second chance."
After the game began, the Bulls were indeed more focused than they had been in Game 1. Ewing hit a high-post jumper on the first possession, Malone drew a foul on Li Fei with a post-up and sank both free throws, and Jordan assisted Harper for a corner three in transition. Through the first half of the opening quarter, the Bulls kept the score close and even briefly led 14–12.
But the Knicks' response came fast and vicious.
Sprewell came up with a steal on defense and went coast to coast for a dunk.
Houston knocked down a mid-range