On a winter afternoon in New York, sunlight pierced through the clouds and filled the training facility at Madison Square Garden.
The NBA officially announced the start of the All-Star Weekend break, and the entire league entered rest mode.
Players across the league let loose and headed for vacation destinations to relax and recharge.
Only the Knicks had not a single player choose to completely slack off for the break.
Their terrifying 47-1 record had not bred even the slightest bit of complacency among this group of Dynasty players.
Every one of them carried the same obsession in their hearts: chase a fourth straight championship in team history and forge an unbeatable Dynasty.
Even the new additions who had joined midway through the season had long since blended into the team's hard-nosed culture.
No one wanted to become the weak link of the Dynasty. Everyone wanted to witness the birth of a legend.
The entire Knicks training facility remained brightly lit through the break, with the sounds of training never ceasing.
Every player on the team worked on his skills with targeted focus, based on his own style and weaknesses.
Even at thirty-seven, Michael Jordan was still the first player to arrive at the training facility.
Out of his game uniform and into a simple black training tank, sweat soaked through his clothes.
In the twilight of his career, he no longer honed explosive drives, instead focusing on his mid-range game and consistency in clutch situations.
Again and again, he repeated fadeaway jumpers, catch-and-shoot pull-ups, and turnaround shots in desperate situations.
Hundreds of mechanical repetitions, all to ensure his touch would never fail in crucial moments.
He had witnessed too many peaks fade away and knew that in competitive sports, only discipline could prolong greatness.
Allan Houston held down the