On the Philadelphia flight from Philadelphia to Boston, only the monotonous hum of the engines filled the cabin.
Head coach Larry Bird Brown sat in the front row, his whiteboard covered in marks from repeated erasing and redrawing. No matter how ingenious the plays were designed for Larry Bird Hughes or anyone else... the whole team knew perfectly well that in the crucial moments, the ball would ultimately have to be handed back to Iverson.
The problem is that Iverson's right ankle is so swollen that he can't even squeeze into a shoe half a size larger.
The plane broke through the clouds and encountered turbulence, causing it to shake slightly.
Iverson was huddled in his window seat, his hoodie pulled up tight, obscuring most of his face. His right leg was propped up straight on his travel bag in front of him, with two large ice packs tightly wrapped around his ankle with medical bandages, and a thick towel wrapped around it.
The ice melted quickly, and water droplets seeped down the corner of the towel, dripping onto the cabin carpet.
The team doctor came over twice during the trip, without uttering any more nonsense. He simply bent down, silently removed the almost melted soft ice pack, replaced it with two new ones, and tightened it again.
Boston's New Garden.
An hour and a half before the start of the fifth match, the stands were packed.
The moment Iverson walked out of the away team tunnel.
A row of cardboard signs covered in profanities stood upright. Nearly 20,000 people pounded the stands with the soles of their shoes in unison, making the floor around the stadium tremble. Boos came crashing down like a wall of sound, giving no respite. The Boston, their eyes red and hysterical, seemed to want to drown him in their spittle.
The referee tossed the ball high into the air. From the very first second of the game, Boston gave Philadelphia absolutely no hope.
Gary Payton dribbled leisurely across half-court, calmly making a tactical gesture, and passed the ball directly to Garnett at the high post above the free-throw line. Garnett stretched out his long arm, holding the ball with one hand, and indifferently scanned Philadelphia's defense. Just as Eddie Jones used a reverse cut to circle around the baseline, he flicked his wrist.
The basketball pierced precisely through the gap in the defense, Jones received the ball comfortably, and easily scored a layup.
Iverson's form has clearly improved tonight. Throughout the first half of the quarter, Philadelphia's offense struggled, relying entirely on his few seemingly impossible hard-hitting shots to keep the score close.
He pulled up for a jump shot over the defense and it went in. When double-teamed, he managed to find a gap and pass the ball to Snow, who then scored a long two-pointer. On the next possession, he relentlessly drove into the paint, drawing a foul against Garnett's aggressive help defense and making both free throws.
14 to 12.
Philadelphia is only two points behind.
In the latter half of the first quarter, the truly despairing gap was finally exposed.
Philadelphia makes a substitution; Iverson goes to the bench for two minutes of rest.
The moment Iverson's butt touched the bench, Philadelphia's offensive system instantly froze, like a rusty machine.
Eric Snow had just crossed half-court with the ball when Gary Payton's suffocating pressure immediately made it difficult for him to move, forcing him to switch to back-to-the-basket dribbling. Larry Bird Hughes made a frantic run down the wing, finally managing to get out and receive the ball, only to find that Eddie Jones' long arms had completely blocked his view.
With little time left on the shot clock, the ball was awkwardly passed to Tyrone Hill in the paint. This blue-collar power forward, who had a background in dirty work, was forced to receive the ball in the low post. His extremely rough offensive skills were no match for the defense, and after a couple of difficult attempts to force his way through, he could only manage a stiff mid-range shot, which unsurprisingly slammed into the rim.
Boston launched a fast break, Garnett followed up with an easy mid-range jumper for two points.
In the next possession, Hughes, refusing to accept defeat, tried to force his way through with his speed, only to have the ball stolen by Gary Payton. Boston's counterattack came in an instant, with Pierce receiving the ball and shooting a three-pointer that pierced the heart of the ball.
Enter.
Head coach Larry Bird Brown's face instantly turned ashen, and he immediately turned to the scorer's table to call a timeout.
But before he could speak, Iverson ripped off the towel draped over his shoulders and stood up.
He only sat there for one minute and twenty seconds.
When he stepped back onto the floor, the scoreboard blared brightly with 23 to 14.
On his first possession after entering the game, Iverson used Tyrone Hill's screen at the top of the key to force his way out, with Gary Payton squeezing through the screen behind him. Iverson didn't completely shake off the defender, but he took off like an idiot, twisting his body dramatically in mid-air, and forcefully threw the ball towards the basket over Gary Payton's defense.
The basketball arced high, grazing the inside of the rim before falling into the net, silencing the boos from the crowd into a brief gasp.
On the other hand, Gary Payton simply used a screen to pull up for a jump shot on the right side of the free-throw line.
A sure hit.
This kind of individual heroism that burned with passion moved everyone present, but it seemed like a drop in the ocean compared to the Boston Celtics' skillful teamwork, and they were simply unable to compete.
At the end of the first quarter, Boston led 29-22.
At the start of the second quarter, the Celtics substituted their second lineup.
When this lineup stepped onto the court, it even gave off an absurdly suffocating feeling. The young and strong Chauncey Billups Billups, the experienced veteran Ron Harper, the extremely steady outside shooter Robert Horry, plus the frontcourt of P.J. Brown and Ben Wallace.
Iverson was completely exhausted.
He knew he couldn't hold out until the fourth quarter if he played like this.
Head coach Larry Bird Brown knew, Philadelphia's team doctor knew, and even the seasoned Harper on the other side knew.
But Philadelphia had no other choice.
Iverson just frantically stretched out his hands, begging for the ball.
once.
Once again.
With eight minutes left in the second quarter, he was like a complete daredevil, attacking the Celtics ' defense in three consecutive possessions using different methods.
In the first possession, he drove hard from the right. Harper's hand was constantly on his waist, providing resistance. At high speed, Iverson slammed his right foot down on the floor, coming to a sudden stop. The pain caused him to pause for a beat, but he still managed to use the pause to shift Harper's weight and, despite the interference, floated the ball into the net.
In the second possession, Billups was very aggressive with his physical play, not giving an inch. Iverson tried to shake him off with two consecutive crossovers, but failed. So he simply stepped back against the defense. Billups ' hand almost covered his eyes, but he still managed to pull up and shoot. The three-pointer went in.
In the third possession, Boston immediately double-teamed Iverson. Billups and Harper quickly closed in on him at the top of the key. Iverson didn't pass the ball, keeping his center of gravity extremely low, and squeezed through the gap between the two defenders. But just as he entered the paint, gathered the ball, and jumped, Ben Wallace was already there to cover. The two collided solidly in mid-air, and Iverson lost his balance, falling heavily out of bounds.
The referee blew the whistle; a blocking foul had occurred.
Iverson lay on the floor, remaining motionless for two or three seconds.
The previously boisterous roar of the New Garden subsided briefly at that moment.
Harper walked over and extended a hand.
Iverson was panting heavily, sweat streaming down his face. He stared at the hand for a second, then braced himself against the floor with one hand, rolled over, and stiffly got to his feet.
Harper didn't feel embarrassed at all; she naturally withdrew her hand and smiled.
Iverson shuffled toward the free-throw line.
First penalty, in.
The second penalty goes in.
Boston's lead was whittled down to just four points by his relentless, all-out attacking style.
Head coach Larry Bird Brown clapped enthusiastically on the sidelines, and all the players on the Philadelphia bench stood up, waving towels wildly. The shadow of Game 3 seemed to loom over tonight again. Iverson, who refused to give up as long as he was still breathing, managed to pull the game back from the brink of defeat.
Just as Iverson started a scoring run, the Celtics gradually began to bring in their starters.
First, Eddie Jones hit a three-pointer from the corner, facing the defense.
In his first possession back on the court, Garnett delivered a crucial play from the high post, assisting his teammate on a cut and dunk.
Gary Payton returned from his rest and immediately intercepted Snow's pass, launching a fast break and easily scoring a layup.
The halftime whistle blew, and the scoreboard showed 54 to 43.
Boston leads by 11 points.
Iverson had already scored 21 points in just the first half.
But the harder he tried, the further Philadelphia fell behind.
In the third quarter, Philadelphia made adjustments to make things easier for Iverson.
Head coach Larry Bird Brown had Snow handle the ball, while Iverson went to the weak side to play off-ball. The tactic worked immediately. Iverson used a screen to pull up for a long two-pointer, and then passed the ball to Snow in the corner while under double-team, who hit a three-pointer.
The score difference was narrowed to six points, 54 to 48.
The Celtics immediately called a timeout. The atmosphere at the New Garden was tense; Celtics fans were all too familiar with this feeling—as long as Iverson was on the court, you could never say victory was assured.
After the timeout, Boston's defense suddenly tightened. The Celtics ' idea was simple: let them take their difficult shots from the outside. But anyone who dared to drive in would have to pay a much higher price.
Iverson forced a shot from the outside, but it bounced off the rim.
In the next possession, Iverson accelerated and drove into the paint, making a last-second pass amidst a triple-team, finding Hughes in the corner.
Hughes caught the ball and jumped immediately, releasing the shot decisively. The basketball spun around the rim before rolling out. Hughes froze in the corner, staring at the basket.
Garnett grabbed the rebound and passed the ball up the court. Gary Payton suddenly accelerated in the frontcourt, drawing help defense before bouncing back the ball, which Garnett then slammed home with one hand.
Philadelphia attacked again, Hughes ' mid-range shot missed.
Boston set up their offense, Garnett faked a pass at the high post and easily made the shot.
Iverson gritted his teeth and, despite Eddie Jones ' interference, sank a difficult three-pointer.
The Celtics remained composed, and Eddie Jones received a pass in the corner and drained a three-pointer.
The entire second half of the third quarter turned into a hopeless vicious cycle. Philadelphia struggled to climb an inch, only to be relentlessly kicked back down by Boston. Iverson repeatedly ignited hope, only to have it extinguished by the Celtics in the most steady way.
There was no overwhelming surge of energy, only repeated responses so calm they were almost suffocating.
The third quarter ended with the score at 79-66.
Everyone could see that the door was closing.
But in the final twelve minutes, Iverson played like someone who refused to look at the scoreboard. He stubbornly kept accelerating and competing, refusing to admit that the game was coming to an end.
With forty seconds left in the game, Boston led by fourteen points.
Doc Rivers finally substituted Garnett and Gary Payton. When Gary Payton walked to the bench, the New Garden erupted in applause. He high-fived each of his teammates who came to greet him, sat back on the bench, covered his head with a towel, and gulped down water.
Iverson remained on the court.
Larry Bird Brown didn't call for a substitution. This had nothing to do with tactics anymore; Brown knew perfectly well that as long as the final whistle hadn't blown, that stubborn guy would never allow himself to leave the court prematurely.
With twenty seconds left, Iverson's mid-range shot missed, and Boston secured the rebound. Billups dribbled just past half-court before stopping the ball near center circle, refusing to launch any further attacks.
10.
9.
8.
Iverson stood beyond the three-point line, his hands braced against his oversized basketball shorts, which were completely soaked with sweat, and he was bent over, breathing heavily.
He did not go up to force the ball again.
It wasn't a matter of compromising or admitting defeat; rather, his overexerted body simply didn't have the strength for a final sprint.
4.
3.
2.
1.
The red light comes on, and the final whistle blows.
104 to 89.
The Celtics won Game 5, eliminating the Philadelphia 76ers 4-1 in the series.
Officially advanced to the Eastern Conference Finals!
At the entrance to the visiting team's player tunnel, Philadelphia 76ers head coach Larry Bird Brown stood quietly in the shadows.
As Iverson approached, Larry Bird Brown silently extended his right hand and placed it on Iverson's thin shoulder.
"I should have put you on the bench sooner and harder," Brown said, his voice filled with deep remorse.
Iverson shook his head, sweat dripping down his dreadlocks. "You can't hold me down, old man."