On the Knicks' possession, Kidd dribbled across half court and once again passed to Li Fei.
This time, Li Fei caught the ball on the right wing, facing Horry's defense. He did not dribble, rising straight up for the jumper. Horry got a hand in his face, but the shot still went in.
Sixty to fifty-five.
"Li Fei! Six straight points!"
Harlan's voice had already gone hoarse. "He's scored six straight points in the first four minutes of the third quarter, along with an assist and a help-side block! The deficit has shrunk from eleven to five! The Lakers have called timeout! They need to find a way to contain Li Fei! But they have no answer! Because no one can guard Li Fei alone!"
On the Lakers' bench, Phil Jackson looked as though he had swallowed an entire lemon.
He stood in front of the bench with his clipboard tucked under his arm, his gaze sharper than usual.
"Li Fei is destroying us single-handedly." His voice was quiet, but every word was clear. "It's not tactics, teamwork, or off-ball movement. It's one man destroying us at both ends. We need to put more pressure on him in the post, double him before he catches the ball, and bring help before he shoots. We can't let him catch it easily down low, get easy shots from the high post, or dunk freely on the break."
O'Neal nodded.
"I'll guard him. Not as the help defender. Straight up. Horry can't stop him. I'll do it." Jackson looked at him. "Are you sure?" O'Neal met his gaze. "I'm sure."
After the timeout, the Lakers had possession.
Kobe held the ball at the top of the arc, facing Sprewell's defense.
This time, rather than going one-on-one, he passed to O'Neal, who was calling