Harris stood there holding the clipboard, somewhat at a loss. The strategy he had prepared had been ruthlessly dismantled by the Jazz from the opening tip. A 6–0 start was not terrifying; what was terrifying was that the Lakers' defense had no answer for the Jazz offense.
It could be said that if the game continued like this, the Jazz could blast the Lakers for 60% shooting through pick-and-rolls, a pace the Lakers could not catch no matter how hard they pushed offensively.
Kobe took the clipboard from Harris and growled in a low voice, "Listen, guys. We're not fighting over screens anymore. It's giving them way too much room to shoot. We're switching everything! Switch on every pick-and-roll."
"But if Malone gets a mismatch against our perimeter players after the screen, who can stop him?"
"I can." Fire burned in Kobe's eyes. He was not acting on impulse; this was the best way he had come up with to defend the Jazz after careful consideration. As long as he could hold Malone below 50% shooting, the Lakers would have a chance to win.
"Big Ben, you're replacing Campbell. Ben, I need you to lock down Stockton after the pick-and-roll mismatch. Can you do it?"
"Absolutely!"
Kobe had prepared for the Jazz for a very long time, because he knew that if the Lakers wanted to break out of the West, their biggest opponent was not Olajuwon at all, but the Jazz!
There was no need to worry too much about the offensive end. O'Neal and Kobe could not both go cold at the same time. As long as they could stop the Jazz's pick-and-rolls—or at least limit them—the Lakers, with their two stars shining, would have a strong chance of taking the game.
Harris watched Kobe command the huddle