"Tweet—!"
At the referee's whistle, the basketball was tossed high into the air.
Shaquille O'Neal's massive body sprang upward like a mountain of flesh, but David Robinson had the quicker leap and better timing. With a light tap of his fingertips, he tipped the ball to his teammate Avery Johnson.
The San Antonio Spurs gained the first possession.
The San Antonio fans instantly erupted in deafening cheers. They had complete faith in their Twin Towers.
The Lakers' opening strategy was simple and brutal: get the ball to Shaquille O'Neal in the paint.
Phil Jackson knew full well that as long as O'Neal could establish himself inside, the Spurs' vaunted defensive system would be torn wide open, creating opportunities for Kobe and the other perimeter players.
However, Popovich had clearly prepared far more thoroughly than the Zen Master had anticipated.
The moment O'Neal established position on the low block, Duncan planted himself firmly behind him like a boulder, refusing to give him any room to penetrate deeper into the paint.
At the same time, David Robinson prowled near the free-throw line like a lurking cheetah, his eyes locked on O'Neal the entire time.
When Lakers guard Rick Fox lobbed the ball inside, Robinson appeared in front of O'Neal like a ghost the instant he caught it.
"Bang!"
O'Neal powered into a spin move, trying to use his unstoppable strength to knock Duncan aside, but Duncan's base was as steady as a mountain and he absorbed the blow. Meanwhile, Robinson's long arms spread like a giant net, covering every one of O'Neal's shooting angles.
A front-and-back double team!
O'Neal felt as though he had fallen into a swamp. Every movement took tremendous effort. With an angry roar, he forced himself up for the shot, but under Robinson's fingertip pressure, the ball struck