Harden and Westbrook sat on the podium, their eyes vacant and their spirits low.
For them, this had indeed been an extraordinary night.
The entire team had scored fewer than 90 points combined. For the Rockets, that was simply unbelievable.
In today's league, what did scoring fewer than 90 points even mean?
Since November 1, the NBA had played a total of 28 games.
Among them, there had been only seven games in which one side failed to reach triple digits.
And of those seven games, the Rockets' 84 points in a single game was the lowest total.
The second-lowest belonged to the Jazz, who had still scored 94 points.
Considering that the Rockets had just put up 159 points in a single game and were one of the most explosive offensive teams this season, their offensive performance today had truly left everyone stunned.
"James, can you talk about your offense today? It seemed that every possession you had was met with precise resistance from the Grizzlies. Do you think their defense worked, or was your shot simply off today?"
The reporters did not care how Harden was feeling right now. They were about to rub salt in the wound.
"I got lost in their defense today. That's all." Harden's answer was straightforward. He knew that after being shut down by the Grizzlies like this, he would inevitably be blasted by the media.
He had already prepared himself mentally for it. There was no point trying to hide anything in the face of questions like these.
Besides, losing to Link and the Grizzlies... wasn't shameful.
"Then Russell, how do you view your shooting percentage of less than 30% today?" After reopening Harden's wound, it was now Westbrook's turn.
Westbrook was not as composed as Harden. Even now, his heart was