The Knicks' bench had long since erupted.
Stephen Jackson, the fearless hothead, was clutching a bottle of Gatorade and chasing Donyell Marshall around like a madman, splashing him with it. The two laughed, cursed, and roughhoused along the sideline.
The veteran Sabonis, the Lithuanian giant, simply sat on the bench with a fatherly smile, watching the young men celebrate wildly. In his weathered eyes gleamed the deepest longing for a championship ring.
Van Gundy's assistant, Tom Thibodeau, held a clipboard as he excitedly gestured at thin air, muttering under his breath as though he were still breaking down the previous offensive and defensive possessions. His obsessive intensity made everyone around him laugh.
That was the taste of victory—so sweet it was intoxicating.
The postgame press conference was held in a temporary interview area set up inside the arena. Camera flashes turned the small space bright as day, illuminating every detail.
The first to enter were the Lakers' OK Duo.
O'Neal dropped into his seat, and the enormous chair let out an overloaded creak beneath him. His face was expressionless, but the exhaustion and disappointment in his eyes could not be concealed.
Kobe sat beside him with his head lowered, the brim of his cap pulled down so far that no one could see his expression. But his tightly clenched fists exposed the turmoil within him.
"Shaq," an ESPN reporter asked first, "after such a hard-fought loss, when you were only one step away from victory, could you talk about how you're feeling right now? And how will you approach the must-win Game 6 at Madison Square Garden?"
O'Neal picked up the microphone in front of him, fell silent for a moment, then said in a deep voice, "How do I feel? Terrible. Absolutely terrible. We controlled the whole game. We