In the final three minutes of the fourth quarter, the tension in the FleetCenter was palpable.
88:88.
90:90.
92:91.
The Celtics led by one point with 40 seconds remaining in the game.
The more than 20,000 fans in the stands no longer cheered, but instead let out a low, tense breathing.
With 22 seconds left in the game, the Chicago Bulls are on offense.
After three changes of hands, the basketball unsurprisingly ended up in the hands of Michael Jordan on the right high post.
Eddie Jones clung to Jordan like glue, and Garnett abandoned his defensive position, rushing over from the weak side. Their long arms completely blocked Jordan's shooting space.
But Jordan still forced himself to jump. His body leaned back to the limit in the air, his core muscles twisting out an angle. The basketball narrowly missed Eddie Jones ' fingertips, grazed the edge of Garnett's outstretched hand, and flew through the air in a very high arc before finally swishing through the net.
92:93.
The Chicago Bulls took the lead with only 6.0 seconds left on the clock. The FleetCenter fell into a deathly silence.
Adelman called the final timeout immediately after the whistle blew. In front of the Celtics' bench, the veteran coach's voice was completely hoarse, but his hand drawing the play lines was extremely steady.
"Listen up, the Chicago Bulls ' defense is now focused entirely on Eddie and Sam. They'll stick to Eddie and won't give Sam any chance to shoot from the corner." Adelman slammed the tip of his black Mark down on the left side of the free-throw line. " Kevin, after your high screen, fake a cut to the outside, then cut straight to the basket in the opposite direction. Deacon, use your body to screen Dennis Rodman for Kevin, even for half a second. Once you get the ball, don't hesitate, no matter who's in front of you, just slam it in!"
"Beep--!"
The whistle blew, and both teams returned to the court. Boston inbounded the ball from the sideline in the frontcourt.
Eddie Jones made a cross-cut with Sam Cassell on the baseline, instantly drawing Jordan and Pippen's defensive attention. At the same time, Mutombo used his broad chest to forcefully knock Dennis Rodman away from trying to front him.
Just as the defense opened up, Garnett made a sudden cut from the left side of the free-throw line and plunged into the paint. Sam Cassell's pass, like a scalpel, grazed Pippen's fingers and precisely slipped into the gap between them.
The tactic had succeeded completely, leaving Garnett with only the basket in front of him. In such a crucial possession, the most sensible choice would have been a safe floater, but Garnett didn't. He leaped up from the ground while moving, swung the ball behind his head with both hands, and charged straight for the basket like a Rockets.
The defending champions didn't want to lose, and Dennis Rodman refused to accept a last-minute defeat. Despite being out of position defensively, he made a desperate horizontal dive from the wing. He knew he couldn't reach the ball, but he had no intention of stopping.
In mid-air, Dennis Rodman's forearm swept horizontally, his elbow slamming heavily into Garnett's nose.
'Click.'
The sound wasn't loud in the noisy arena, but Mutombo was closest to the basket, saw it clearly. Garnett's nose was broken by the elbow, and blood instantly gushed from his nose, covering his lips and chin.
But the 20-year-old didn't let go, not even blinking. His body was deformed in mid-air by Dennis Rodman's impact, his face was bloodshot, but his bloodshot eyes were fixed on the basket.
94 to 93.
A loud bang was heard, and even the basketball hoop shook violently.
With Garnett contorting his body in an almost self-destructive manner, he slammed the basketball into the Chicago Bulls ' basket! The Boston Celtics have regained the lead!
After completing the dunk, Garnett flew sideways due to the immense momentum, his right shoulder slamming heavily against the backboard pad. Upon landing, he slid more than half a meter across the smooth floor. Blood splattered onto the wooden floor as he slid, leaving a few glaring red drops.
"Beep--!" The referee blew his whistle. Dennis Rodman committed a defensive foul, but it was just a regular foul.
The Boston bench erupted. Adelman stepped out of bounds and yelled at the referee, Sam Cassell clutched his injured ribs and, with red eyes, tried to rush onto the court, and even the usually composed Horry spread his hands and shouted at the referee that it should have been a flagrant foul. The referee ignored him, his gestures firm.
Garnett lay on the floor, panting for a few seconds, his chest heaving like a broken bellows. As the team doctor rushed over with a first-aid kit, Garnett grabbed the doctor's wrist, his voice hoarse and tinged with the smell of blood. "Don't touch me... I'll take this shot myself."
The team doctor could only wipe his face with a towel and quickly stuff cotton wool into Garnett's nostrils to stop the bleeding.
When Garnett stepped back to the free-throw line, the front of his green jersey was stained dark red with blood. His nose, stuffed with cotton balls, was still bleeding, and his crooked nose made his face look particularly gruesome. The more than 20,000 Boston fans at FleetCenter held their breath; the entire arena was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.
Garnett glanced down at the few drops of blood in front of the free-throw line, then slowly raised his head. He dribbled the ball, adjusted his breathing, and released the shot.
"Clang."
The heavy thud of the ball hitting the rim made everyone's hearts skip a beat. His right shoulder was still numb from the impact, so the free throw was clearly too short. The basketball bounced off the front of the rim with a loud thud.
Michael Jordan seemed to have anticipated the landing point. He stretched out his long arm and grabbed the crucial defensive rebound with one hand. The moment he landed, before he had even regained his balance, he turned his head and made a very decisive timeout gesture to the scorer's table.
Time was frozen at 0.8 seconds. Boston still led by 1 point. But the Chicago Bulls still held one last chance to win.
The timeout, which felt as brief as hell, ended, Chicago Bulls inbounded the ball. Everyone on the court knew better than anyone else... that for this game-winning shot, the Chicago Bulls would definitely look for Michael Jordan.
The whistle blew. Jordan used a double screen to launch a furious back-cut from the baseline. Eddie Jones used his fastest lateral movement to stick to him, while Garnett, dragging his almost numb right shoulder, desperately tried to block Jordan's movement. Even Mutombo under the basket instinctively leaned half a step in the direction Jordan was running. This was the intimidation Michael Jordan had on the court. As long as he moved, the entire opposing five-man defense would uncontrollably shift accordingly.
But Toni Kukoč, who was standing on the sideline and responsible for serving, didn't even glance at Jordan once throughout the entire game.
Half a second after the whistle blew, Kukoč swung his long arm and lobbed the basketball high over Boston's tall defense, sending it soaring towards the back of the Celtics' basket.
The ball wasn't for Jordan; it was for Scottie Pippen, who was circling out from the weak-side corner.
Using Luke Luc Longley's massive frame as a shield, and in the split second when Garnett's attention was diverted by Jordan, Pippen managed to create half a body length's distance. By the time the basketball landed, Pippen had already fully extended his body in mid-air.
In 0.8 seconds, according to basketball rules, there's simply not enough time to catch the ball and shoot. So, Pippen never intended to catch the ball. At the highest point of his slide, facing the basket, he calmly extended his right hand and lightly touched the bottom of the falling basketball with his fingertips.
The basketball changed trajectory with the force of the fingertips, grazing the inside of the rim before falling steadily into the white net. At the same second, the red light behind the backboard flashed brightly.
95 to 94.
The arena fell silent for a second, then erupted in a desperate wail. The Chicago Bulls' bench stormed onto the court like madmen, engulfing Pippen, who had just completed the game-winning alley-oop, in the crowd.
Garnett was still standing under the basket, his body even in the final pose of turning around to block the shot. After the red light went out, he seemed to have all his strength drained away, his knees buckled, and he knelt heavily on one knee, his hands gripping the ground tightly.
He clearly slammed home the game-winning shot despite the defense, and he clearly withstood Dennis Rodman's infamous aerial tackle that could have injured an ordinary player and forced them to retire. Just seconds before, he had victory practically in his grasp.
In the final 0.8 seconds, the Chicago Bulls snatched away the miracle the Celtics had just touched with the coldest and most resolute manner.
Lin Qi stood behind the home team's bench, silent for a long time. His fingers gripped the statistics sheet tightly, the edges of the paper worn and distorted.
He simply watched quietly as the young man knelt in the center of the floor, his nose bleeding again, staining a large patch of his green jersey, his eyes fixed on the Chicago Bulls' celebrating crowd.
This game-winning alley-oop didn't break Kevin Garnett, but it shattered his last bit of hope and naivety in the game.
With a score of 3-2, the defending champion Chicago Bulls have taken the lead in the Eastern Conference Finals.
The next game of the series will be played at the United Center in Chicago.
At that time, Kevin Garnett will wear a black protective mask.