When Dinwiddie's final shot clanked off the rim, Link felt as though his heart were trembling along with the basket.
94 to 89. Out of 100 three-point attempts, Dinwiddie had made 89—just five short of tying Link!
Link was quite surprised by that.
Even a "freak" like Link found Dinwiddie's rate of improvement somewhat unbelievable.
How many days had it been? Dinwiddie's consistency from beyond the arc had already improved by leaps and bounds.
Link remembered that, just a few days ago, the gap between Dinwiddie and himself had still been enormous.
On the first day of their three-point contest, the score had been 95 to 61. On the second day, 97 to 67. On the third, 93 to 69...
Over all those days, Link had never made fewer than 90 shots. And Dinwiddie? He had never even caught a glimpse of Link's taillights.
Yet without anyone noticing, Dinwiddie's number of made threes had increased every day.
It was only today that Link suddenly realized just how accurate Dinwiddie had become!
Making 89 out of 100 three-pointers without any defense wasn't actually particularly outstanding.
After all, when Arenas, who had been retired for years, competed against Link in three-point shooting, he could casually make more than 90.
But now, Dinwiddie's three-pointer was no longer harmless. Anyone who dared leave him open beyond the arc next season would definitely be punished hard.
"Damn it, I lost again!" Dinwiddie shook his head with his hands on his hips. After practice that afternoon, he would have to stay behind for extra work again.
After all these days, he had not beaten Link even once.
Link pursed his lips. He was a superstar who had won two straight Most Valuable Player Awards, made the All-NBA First Team for four consecutive years, and led his