The blackboard was densely covered with defensive tactics and offensive strategies tailored to the Knicks.
From Li Fei's habits when establishing position in the paint to Michael Jordan's rhythm on fadeaway jumpers.
From the Knicks' zone defense system to the offensive patterns built around their two-star coordination.
The Lakers coaching staff had spent months refining a complete system designed to snipe the Knicks.
O'Neal sat upright in the front row, dressed in black practice gear, his expression fierce and grave.
The league's dominant interior beast had long since shed his earlier relaxed demeanor.
He had spent the entire season lying low and sharpening himself, all for the ultimate battle against the Knicks.
Kobe sat beside him, his fingers constantly rubbing the basketball, an icy gleam in his eyes.
The young Black Mamba had bottled up a season's worth of fighting spirit and resentment, ready to explode.
Glen Rice and the rest of the role players were all seated, every face taut with tension.
Everyone understood that this game concerned the team's honor and disgrace—and the balance of the entire league.
Phil Jackson spoke first, his voice low yet piercing.
"Everyone outside believes the Knicks are already invincible. That no one can stop them."
"They've won twenty-eight straight. Their morale is at its peak, their form is perfect, and all eyes are on them."
"But I'm telling you, they are not without weaknesses."
"After dozens of consecutive high-intensity games, the dangers lurking in their stamina have long been buried beneath the surface."
"The pressure of the winning streak and the shackles of the record will become their greatest weakness."
"Tomorrow night, on Christmas, will be our best chance to overturn the dynasty."
"I don't need a flashy process. I only need the final victory."
As the Zen Master finished, the training