Kevin Harlan adjusted his tie and gave the camera a wry smile.
"Folks, before this series began, when we were making our predictions, I confidently said that this resilient Philadelphia 76ers team might give the Knicks some trouble. My prediction was that the Knicks would advance 4–2."
He shook his head, his tone turning exceptionally firm.
"But now, after watching this game, I may have to change my judgment."
"The gap in strength between these two teams is simply too obvious. The 76ers have no way to contain Li Fei, while the Knicks' defensive system perfectly neutralizes Iverson."
"I now don't think the Knicks are likely to beat the 76ers 4–2 and advance."
"At most, it'll be 4–1. In fact, if Li Fei keeps playing like this, a sweep isn't out of the question."
On the court, the players from both teams were exchanging postgame handshakes.
Li Fei walked to center court and looked at Iverson approaching him.
The fire of defiance still burned in Iverson's eyes. He had not bowed his head.
"You won the first game, Fei." Iverson's voice was somewhat hoarse.
Li Fei held out his massive hand and gave Iverson a hard high-five, then pulled him into an embrace and patted him on the back.
"Good game, Allen. You proved your worth."
Li Fei dipped his head slightly and spoke into Iverson's ear in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"But tonight's biggest winner isn't just the Knicks. It's also our 'answer' sneaker line. Falk just texted me—the shoes you wore sold out during the second half."
Iverson froze for a moment, then a helpless yet relieved smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Beyond winning and losing on the basketball court, this enormous commercial empire had long since been firmly clasped