New York's Madison Square Garden blazed with lights as bright as day.
All twenty thousand fans rose to their feet, their cheers threatening to lift the roof off the arena.
The head referee walked to center court with the basketball in hand and raised an arm to signal for both teams to get in position for the tip-off.
The Knicks' starting five all took the floor, calm yet imposing.
Li Fei held down the center position, his frame towering and upright, his gaze cool and detached.
Jordan and Allan Houston occupied the two backcourt spots, their offensive and defensive experience fully on display.
Sprewell and Donyell Marshall led the frontcourt, their athleticism maxed out.
The Bucks had Ray Allen as their unquestioned centerpiece. Every player was taut with fighting spirit, their eyes sharp.
Gentleman Ray, who had declared before the game that victory was certain, showed no trace of nerves as he waited to strike.
With the referee's crisp whistle, the first game of this playoff series officially began.
Li Fei sprang up lightly and, with his overwhelming height, wingspan, and leaping speed, easily tipped the ball away.
The Knicks gained possession first and launched their opening half-court offense.
The Bucks began by collapsing into the paint, packing bodies inside in an attempt to limit Li Fei's attacks at the rim.
But that conventional defensive strategy had been doomed to fail from the very start.
Li Fei received the ball in the low post, backing down two defenders with brute force.
There was no wasted motion—he spun, powered through the contact, and knocked down a turnaround mid-range jumper in one smooth sequence.
The ball traced a perfect arc and swished cleanly through the net, giving him two steady points to open the game.
The Bucks answered quickly on their next