The night after Game 3, Iverson lay awake in bed until dawn. His right ankle was swollen and tight, as if a sharp awl was hidden inside, pricking his nerves with each beat of his pulse. He applied a cold compress for half an hour, and just as the ice subsided and the numbness returned, the excruciating pain returned.
The TV in the hotel was on, and the channel was replaying Game 3. The channel was showing a replay of Game 3. In slow motion, he changed direction in front of Gary Payton, stepped into the three-second zone, threw the ball, and then fell down and got up. He watched for a while, then reached for the remote and turned it off.
The room was dark, but my ankle was still throbbing.
Iverson arrived at practice very late on the second day.
When the team doctor touched his foot, his lips twitched, but he immediately suppressed it. Head coach Larry Bird Brown watched for a while before finally managing to say something like, "Take it easy at the start."
Iverson, head down, his ankle brace tightly wrapped, the tape digging in and drawing blood, said, "I've never held back in my entire life."
Iverson looked up. The two stared at each other for two seconds before Brown looked away first. "Okay, you know what you're doing."
Before the tip-off of Game 4, the Celtics players were unusually quiet.
Gary Payton didn't trash talk Iverson like he did in Game 1; during warm-up, he only took a few mid-range shots and loosened his shoulders.
Iverson walked past him, and Gary Payton's eyes swept over his right foot before quickly looking away.
The ankle brace was a size thicker than usual, and his left and right feet were asymmetrical; it was immediately noticeable that something was wrong when he ran. Before the jump ball, Gary Payton stood by the center circle, his lips moved, but he didn't say anything in the end.
On the first possession, Iverson asked for the ball.
Snow passed the ball at the top of the key. Gary Payton immediately slid in, spread his arms, and without any unnecessary downward movements, directly used his chest to block Iverson's torso, using pure physical strength to block the breakthrough route.
The moment Iverson received the ball, he slammed it down with his right hand and his left shoulder lurched forward, forcefully driving to the left against the defense. His first step was still swift, his shoulder pressing against Gary Payton's ribs, creating half a body length of space. But as his left foot firmly touched the floor, preparing to push off and complete the overtake, his knee buckled uncontrollably, instantly shattering his balance.
Eddie Jones, who was originally in the corner, seized the opportunity when the ball stumbled and decisively retreated. He approached silently, but his hand movements were extremely fast and precise, slicing the basketball that was exposed due to the shift in center of gravity.
The basketball slipped from his grasp. Iverson reacted incredibly quickly, lunging straight to the floor and managing to grab the ball before Eddie Jones could bend down to retrieve it. He then used one hand to brace himself, scrambling to his feet and managing a powerful pull-up jumper before Gary Payton could pounce on him again.
Because the legs failed to provide the explosive power for the jump, the ball's release arc was too low, and it hit the front edge of the rim squarely.
The long rebound bounced off the rim, and the offense and defense switched instantly. Garnett had already taken long strides to shake off the defender and cut down the middle. His teammate's long pass arrived accurately, and he received the ball comfortably. Using the momentum of his sprint, he jumped on one foot, his body arching in mid-air, his right arm raised high, and slammed down towards the basket!
"Bang--!!!"
2:0.
The dunk ended the dull start, instantly igniting the roar of the entire arena.
In the first half of the first quarter, Philadelphia played an exceptionally tenacious half-court game. Waves of cheers erupted from the Philadelphia home crowd, the fans still basking in the afterglow of their third victory. They had just witnessed a miracle and believed it could happen again.
Late in the first quarter, Larry Bird Hughes became Philadelphia's surprise weapon.
Snow tossed the ball through the chaos, Hughes caught it with a clear half-meter gap in front of him. In the past, he would always hesitate when faced with a ball like this. But this time, he caught the ball and jumped immediately, the three-pointer swishing through the net.
In the next possession, Iverson drove hard into the paint, drawing a double team, and then passed the ball through the gaps in the defense. Hughes quietly cut in from the baseline, avoiding Garnett's block, and easily laid the ball in.
The substitutes instantly sprang to their feet, and head coach Larry Bird Brown took two steps forward.
On the next possession, Hughes received the ball at a 45-degree angle on the right side and, taking advantage of a slight delay in the defensive rotation, decisively took another shot.
Another three-pointer!
The cheers nearly lifted the roof off the stadium.
At the end of the first quarter, Boston led by only one point, 27-26.
At the start of the second quarter, the Celtics adjusted their defense.
Bowen was assigned to guard Iverson, while Eddie Jones was specifically tasked with guarding Hughes.
The moment Hughes touched the ball, Eddie Jones closed in, his long arms outstretched, completely blocking Hughes's vision. In a panic, Hughes tried to pass the ball back to Iverson, only to find Bowen had aggressively fronted him, completely cutting off the connection. With nowhere to retreat, Hughes could only dribble once, and with his rhythm completely disrupted, he managed a stop-and-shoot. There was no space to generate power, and the ball was ridiculously short.
Midway through the second quarter, the competition on the court became extremely intense.
Iverson drove hard down the left flank, Bowen quickly slid sideways to block him. Both players were at their maximum speed, and when Iverson jumped with the ball, Bowen, who had moved sideways, couldn't stop completely due to the great momentum.
In the mid-air chaos of their physical battle, the two men collided violently. As Bowen tried to regain his footing and stabilize his defensive position, his knee inevitably struck Iverson, and his raised arm also slammed into Iverson's. This wasn't out of malice, but rather an instinctive reaction to the intense pressure of playoff defense when the body couldn't stop.
Iverson was completely thrown off balance in mid-air by the impact, flying sideways off the baseline and crashing heavily onto the floor, his shoulder slamming into the leg of a baseline photographer.
The sidelines erupted instantly. Snow, eyes red with rage, rushed over, pointing at Bowen and yelling insults, followed closely by Thomas. Bowen, expressionless, spread his hands. Gary Payton quickly pushed through the crowd, placing his hand on Snow's chest, his eyes and gesture conveying a clear message: "Back off."
Just as tensions were rising, Iverson silently got up from the ground. The weight on his right foot made him stagger. Brown on the sidelines immediately waved to the team doctor, who shook his head helplessly...
If he can't be persuaded, Iverson will absolutely not leave the court at this point.
Iverson turned and glanced at Bowen, his icy gaze sending chills down one's spine.
The referee called a regular foul, drawing boos from the home crowd. Head coach Larry Bird Brown could no longer contain his anger, yelling at the referee and receiving a technical foul. After the Boston Celtics took their free throws, Iverson stood quietly by the free-throw line, head down, staring at the wooden floor.
Then Iverson also started taking free throws.
Both free throws were made.
After the ball went in, he bent down and tugged hard at his right ankle brace... His ankle was so swollen that the brace, which was supposed to provide protection, now felt like shackles, suffocating him. Gary Payton stood outside the three-point line, quietly watching his opponent. This time, he said nothing.
The halftime whistle blew, and Boston went into the locker room with a 9-point lead, 56-47.
The locker room in Philadelphia was quiet.
Hughes sat in a chair with a towel over his head. He went 0-for-3 in the second quarter and also committed a turnover. He hadn't adjusted his mentality after being targeted.
Iverson sat in the innermost corner and dipped his right foot into the ice bucket. The moment the ice water reached his ankle, he shuddered in pain and gripped the edge of the chair tightly with both hands.
On the first possession of the third quarter, Iverson drove and passed the ball to Hughes on the right side, hoping to reignite the surprise weapon from the first quarter.
Hughes received the ball and there was space in front of him. But he hesitated, wanting to dribble and adjust his rhythm. In that half-second of hesitation, Gary Payton flicked the ball with his finger, and it fell into Garnett's hands.
Garnett strode forward and easily dunked for the score.
58 to 47.
Boston's defensive system never gave Hughes another chance to shoot.
Gary Payton, Bowen, and Eddie Jones began taking turns covering Iverson and Philadelphia's receiving points.
The game didn't collapse dramatically; instead, it slid irreversibly toward Boston.
No matter how difficult a shot Philadelphia scores, Boston always manages to respond in various ways on the next possession.
At the end of the third quarter, the score was 84-70, with the point difference widening to 14 points.
In the fourth quarter, Iverson was still trying to pull the game back. He relied on drives and free throws to narrow the gap to 10 points.
Just as the home crowd's cheers were about to build, Boston responded with the coldest of all. Garnett received the ball a step inside the three-point line, made no adjustments, and pulled up for a jump shot right over the defense, sinking it cleanly.
In the very next possession, Gary Payton tightened the tempo after crossing half-court. He held on until there were only eight seconds left on the shot clock, and when the Philadelphia defense instinctively retreated into the paint out of fear of the paint, he suddenly flicked his wrist and quickly threw the ball to the wing.
Pierce received the ball. Facing the onrushing defender, he remained calm and composed, using a very realistic shooting fake to create half a step of space. Without a trace of impatience, he calmly jumped and the three-pointer swished through the net.
In less than three minutes, the point difference was back to 17 points.
With two minutes remaining, the game was no longer in doubt. Iverson had the ball at the top of the key, his right foot's movement clearly distorted. Gary Payton closely marked him, neither reaching out to steal the ball nor engaging in any further contact. He looked at Iverson and said in a low voice, "That's enough, that's enough."
Iverson did not reply.
The final buzzer sounded, and the Celtics won Game 4 109-91, taking a 3-1 lead in the series.
The fans in the stands began to disperse. The Philadelphia players walked towards the player tunnel with their heads down. Iverson remained on the sidelines, bent over, panting heavily, sweat dripping onto the floor. The team doctor tried to come over to help him remove his ankle brace, but he waved his hand and stubbornly stood there.
Lin Qi, dressed in a suit, walked through the celebrating crowd and went straight to Iverson.
Lin Qi's gaze fell on the ankle brace, which was severely swollen and deformed. His tone was calm, revealing an outsider's clear-headedness. "You're mortgaging your career with this kind of playing style. Your ankle and knee will cause serious problems sooner or later."
Iverson slowly straightened his back, stabilizing his center of gravity.
"Go back and prepare for Game 5." He looked Lin Qi in the eye, his voice utterly calm and devoid of any emotion. "You haven't won this series yet."
The two stared at each other for a moment.
Lin Qi sighed softly, silently extending his right fist and holding it in mid-air.
"See you in the fifth game," he said.
Iverson was visibly taken aback, his gaze lingering on the hovering fist for two seconds.
He raised his sweaty hand, slowly clenched it, and gently touched it.
See you in the fifth game.