"Swish—" The crisp sound of the ball passing through the net rang out. The first free throw was good, and the Knicks took a 5–0 lead.
Cheers erupted from the crowd as fans waved their flags and shouted, "Great shot!" in celebration of Sprewell.
Sprewell did not celebrate at all. He remained focused, picked up the basketball again, adjusted his stance, and prepared for the second free throw.
His motion remained textbook and fluid. His wrist snapped again, sending the basketball flying toward the hoop before it dropped cleanly through.
"Swish—" The second free throw went in as well. Sprewell made both shots, opening his account and adding another two points for the Knicks.
The scoreboard now stood at 6–0, with the Knicks claiming a perfect early lead.
Cheers once again thundered through Madison Square Garden. Fans waved blue flags and shouted, "Knicks will win!" The atmosphere had reached a fever pitch.
After making his free throws, Sprewell raised his fist again and shouted toward the fans in the stands, his face still burning with passion. He wanted to use his performance to keep lifting the team's spirits and help the Knicks in their push for a third straight championship.
Standing nearby, Li Fei watched Sprewell and smiled faintly in satisfaction. He knew that with teammates like this at his side, they would definitely win this Game 7 and protect the glory of New York's Dynasty.
On the Lakers' bench, Phil Jackson's expression turned especially grave. He shouted instructions to the players on the court, adjusting the tactics in an attempt to reverse their unfavorable start.
Kobe stood on the court, his sharp gaze fixed on the Knicks players, his face filled with an unyielding fighting spirit. He knew an early deficit was nothing to fear. As long as they