Sabonis closed his eyes, and a few images flashed through his mind.
The 1998 NBA Finals, the Knicks against the Utah Jazz.
Game 6, the final two minutes. He stepped out beyond the three-point line, faked a shot, and slipped a pass to Li Fei rolling to the basket. Li Fei dunked it home to seal the win. That was his first championship.
The 1999 NBA Finals, the Knicks against the San Antonio Spurs.
Game 5. He went one-on-one against David Robinson in the low post, created space with his Dreamy Footsteps, and sank a left-handed hook to stretch the lead to eight. That was his second championship.
Now, his third.
He opened his eyes and looked at Li Fei. Li Fei was still shooting free throws. He had made twenty-seven straight.
Sabonis stood up and walked over to the free-throw line.
"Li."
Li Fei released his last shot. Nothing but net. He turned to look at Sabonis.
"This is the last year of my career," Sabonis said, his English still carrying a Lithuanian accent. "I want to leave with a ring."
Li Fei looked at him for two seconds, then said, "It won't be your last year. You can still play."
Sabonis shook his head. "My body can't take it anymore. I know my limits. But this season, I'll leave everything I have on the court. Everything."
Li Fei said nothing. He picked up the ball and handed it to Sabonis.
"Take a shot."
Sabonis took the ball and stood at the free-throw line. His form was as textbook and elegant as ever, like an ancient sculpture. He released the ball in a high arc. Nothing but net.
Li Fei caught the ball as it bounced back and looked at Sabonis.
"Your shot will never grow old," he said.