Houston caught the pass, set his feet, rose, and released. The entire motion was textbook smooth.
Swish!
The sound of the net snapping carried clearly through the arena via the microphone beneath the basket. 3-2, the Knicks took the lead.
"What a pass! From Li Fei!"
At the TNT broadcast desk, Marv Albert's voice rose excitedly. "This is exactly what we discussed earlier! When the Knicks' shooters can knock down their shots, the Spurs' double-team strategy will pay a heavy price!"
Over the next few possessions, the same script played out again and again.
The Spurs stubbornly double-teamed Li Fei, while Li Fei transformed into the league's premier point center, ripping apart the Spurs' defense with one unbelievable pass after another.
Larry Johnson caught the ball and drove before kicking it out, Sabonis facilitated from the high post, and the basketball flowed smoothly through the Knicks' hands, always finding the best open shot.
Allan Houston's mid-range jumpers, Larry Johnson's corner threes, Sabonis's interior hooks... The cold shooting touch from Game 4 was completely ignited tonight.
Popovich stood on the sideline with his brows tightly furrowed. He watched the gap on the scoreboard slowly widen, yet showed no intention of changing tactics. He seemed to be waiting—waiting for a certain moment to arrive.
The game moved at a breathless pace. Both sides traded blows, but the Knicks maintained a slim lead through their more efficient team offense.
Once again, time ticked away, second by second, toward the moment that would decide their fate.
Fourth quarter, five minutes remained.
The scoreboard read: Knicks 98, Spurs 96.
The Knicks led by 2 and had possession.
Everyone in the AT&T Center, along with billions watching from in front of their televisions, focused their eyes on the Spurs' bench—on that expressionless man, Gregg Popovich.
What