There was also Larry Johnson, the once gravity-defying "Grandmama," who now relied more on brute muscle and experience. His back injury was a ticking time bomb, and no one knew when it would go off.
As for Allan Houston, he was a perfect shooter, but his defense and ballhandling would be relentlessly targeted in a high-intensity series.
Much of the Knicks' strength rested on Li Fei's unparalleled individual ability and Sabonis's masterful playmaking. The system was dazzling and efficient, but fragile, too. It was like a precision machine: wear or damage to any critical component could bring the whole thing crashing down.
Then there were his own Houston Rockets.
Charles Barkley, Hakeem Olajuwon, and himself. Three Hall of Famers in the twilight of their careers. This season, they had fallen in the Western Conference Semifinals, losing to the young Lakers. Everyone outside the team was mocking them as the "big three retirement home."
But Pippen saw it differently.
They had lost not because of a lack of talent, but because they had yet to mesh. The division of touches between Barkley and Olajuwon, the adjustment to his own role—those problems had plagued the team for most of the season. But after a year of growing pains, he believed next season would be completely different.
The Dream's footwork was still dreamy, and Barkley's backside was still one of the league's deadliest weapons. As the team's point forward and defensive anchor, Pippen would bring the two of them together perfectly.
As long as they stayed healthy, they absolutely had a chance to come out of the West.
And once they reached the NBA Finals... against those seemingly powerful Knicks with their hidden vulnerabilities, they would have a fighting chance.
At that thought, the uncertainty in Pippen's eyes vanished, replaced by a hunter's