"God bless, have you ever seen a shot like that?!" The players on the bench erupted. Fisher was the first to grab a towel and leap up dancing, and Ben Wallace could not help joining in.
Drexler's stamina was probably becoming a problem. Rudy Tomjanovich frowned from the sideline. The team did not have much depth at guard and on the wing, yet a rookie with a hot hand had actually pushed Drexler into a defensive stamina collapse.
Rudy Tomjanovich had yet to realize that Kobe was far more than just a rookie. Perhaps he would make the proper adjustments next game, but for now, all he could do was rely on Drexler to tough it out.
Del Harris clenched his fists. His calm expression did not reveal the excitement in his heart. Kobe's early explosion, his quiet stretch in the middle, and his domination in the fourth quarter all made Harris marvel at how smart he was.
This was a player who played with his brain. Knowing how to use one's brain was extremely important. In the NBA, players who recklessly relied on talent often faded quickly. Players like Kobe, who understood how to maximize strengths and avoid weaknesses, who stayed quiet while building momentum and then stunned everyone in one burst, were incredibly rare.
Even Jordan at his peak did not score more than 30 points every game. In this era, averaging over 25 points was enough to be called a superstar; over 20 was a solid All-Star performance; over 15, combined with a major market, could even earn an All-Star selection. Such was the tragic grandeur of the hard-nosed era—scoring was simply too difficult for players.
But the harder it was, the more it showed the greatness of this era's stars. There was no doubt that every