Boston celebrated the night they won Game 1 of the NBA Finals.
It was a defensive battle. The total score was less than 150 points, and the two teams were like two wild beasts wrestling in the mud. But in the final play that decided the outcome, Kevin Garnett defended Tim Duncan.
When the final whistle blew, the New Garden erupted in cheers.
At that moment, everyone was convinced of one logic: as long as Garnett could shut down Tim Duncan, Boston could win the NBA Finals, and the result of Game 1 proved this.
With this psychological advantage, the second match arrived as scheduled.
In the VIP box on the top floor, Lin Qi gazed intently through the glass window at everything on the field.
The door to the private room opened, Matt Damon walked in laughing with several friends, including the then-rising star Natalie Portman. She wore a simple dark trench coat, her eyes bright and lively, exuding the scholarly air unique to Harvard graduates and the radiance of a Hollywood star.
"Lin, the view from here is amazing." Matt Damon familiarly pulled Natalie Portman aside and introduced her to Lin Qi with a smile, "This is Natalie. She just got back from Cambridge. I finally managed to get her here tonight to experience the madness of the NBA Finals."
Natalie Portman politely extended her hand to Lin Qi, a hint of inquiry in her eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lynch. Matt has been saying all the way here that you're a legend."
Lin Qi shook her hand politely, his tone gentle but brief. "Welcome to the New Garden. Tonight's game will be very exciting."
Matt Damon clearly noticed Lin Qi's focus and casually put his arm around his friend's shoulder, jokingly saying, "Relax, Lynch. If Garnett can defend Tim Duncan like he did in Game 1 tonight, the championship is practically guaranteed. Boston can start preparing champagne."
The opening jump ball.
Garnett stuck to Tim Duncan like glue, his task the same as the previous game: to use extreme physicality and suffocating defense to keep this young interior behemoth out of his comfort zone and prevent him from causing trouble in the paint.
The Spurs ' first low-post attack.
Tim Duncan positioned himself on the edge of the paint, Garnett immediately closed in from behind, using his long arm to interfere, his forearm firmly against Tim Duncan's waist. Tim Duncan lowered his center of gravity and exerted force, trying to force Garnett away.
Garnett withstood the force head-on. Tim Duncan exerted force again, and the two players' shoes screeched against the waxed floor, but Garnett refused to give an inch.
The bounce pass was perfect. Tim Duncan barely caught the ball, and despite the overwhelming defense, he rose high, completed an extremely difficult aerial contest, and then turned and shot...
Clang.
The basketball bounced off the front of the rim, Mutombo leaped high to grab the rebound. The New Garden erupted in deafening cheers.
In the next possession, Tim Duncan once again called for the ball in his usual spot. Garnett positioned himself early, his long arms relentlessly blocking the passing lane, forcing Avery Johnson to pass the ball to the perimeter to rebuild.
On the third attempt, Tim Duncan finally received the ball in the paint. He turned his back to the ball, gave it a hard bump, and felt that the wall behind him remained unmoved. He turned his head slightly and glanced at Garnett out of the corner of his eye. In those signature, dull and deep eyes, there was still no emotional fluctuation.
Then, he calmly passed the ball out.
In the first eight minutes, Tim Duncan made three strong attacks in the low post, but failed to score.
On offense, Boston capitalized on their defensive momentum to unleash a devastating offensive onslaught.
Gary Payton received the ball at the top of the key with his back to the basket. Facing the diminutive Avery Johnson, he lowered his shoulder and shoved the ball inside, then smoothly turned and launched his signature pull-up mid-range jumper...
Swish. Hollowed into the net.
In the next possession, Pierce received the ball at the edge of the penalty area, made a quick change of direction with a probing step, and smoothly dribbled past Elliott into the penalty area. David Robinson rushed in to cover, but Pierce skillfully tossed the ball high into the air...
Garnett charged in from the weak side like a god descending from the sky, caught the ball with one hand, and delivered a fierce dunk over Robinson's arms!
Bang!
Upon landing, Garnett's eyes widened, and he roared wildly to the sky, nearly lifting the New Garden off its feet with his roar.
In the next possession, Gary Payton pressed high up the court, and Johnson lost his grip on the ball and was easily stolen. Gary Payton grabbed the ball and launched a long pass forward, where Pierce sprinted to receive it and slammed it home with one hand just inside the free-throw line!
16 to 7.
Gregg Popovich stood in front of the away team's coaching bench, his face ashen.
He didn't call a timeout. He simply crossed his arms and quietly watched Garnett, who was ecstatic on the court.
After watching for a long time, Popovich called a short timeout, called Tim Duncan to the sidelines, and whispered something in his ear.
It's a very simple sentence.
Back on the court, Tim Duncan no longer went down to the low post.
He slowly walked to the high post, stood near the free throw line, and raised his right hand high.
Garnett, acting on instinct, followed without hesitation.
Tim Duncan received the ball.
He didn't probe or break through, but simply held the basketball firmly with both hands, calmly surveying the entire court. Garnett was very close behind, his center of gravity at its lowest point, ready to extinguish the attack at any moment.
On the other side, David Robinson suddenly pulled to the flank.
Mutombo hesitated for a moment in the paint. He glanced at Tim Duncan at the high post, then at Robinson who had spread out, and finally gritted his teeth and followed... Robinson has a mid-range and long-range shot, and he couldn't give this veteran an open look.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
The entire penalty area was empty.
The instant Mutombo took a step, Robinson suddenly sprinted in the opposite direction, cutting from the wing towards the empty basket! Mutombo turned and chased back with all his might, but his center of gravity was too far to the outside.
Tim Duncan flicked his wrist lightly.
The bounce pass traced a precise arc, perfectly clearing Mutombo's desperately outstretched fingertips, and gently fell towards the top of the basket.
Robinson leaped into the air, caught the ball with one hand, and slammed it into the basket!
Bang!
The dull thud of a dunk echoed, and the roar of the New Garden froze in that instant.
Garnett stood alone at the high post, looking back at the empty basket.
He paused for half a second, stunned.
However, this was just the beginning. In the next three possessions, the Spurs completely tore off their disguise.
On the fourth possession, Tim Duncan had the ball at the free-throw line, closely guarded by Garnett. Robinson again moved to the left 45-degree angle, drawing Mutombo out of position. This time, the Spurs didn't even use a simple cut to the basket; instead, Sean Elliott circled out from the baseline after a screen. Garnett, distracted by Tim Duncan's ball, was a fraction too slow to call for a switch. Tim Duncan delivered a surgical bounce pass that pierced the defense, Elliott easily scored a layup.
On the fifth offensive possession, Tim Duncan called for the ball at the high post just past half-court. Garnett gritted his teeth and went to meet him, but this time, Tim Duncan made an extremely realistic triple-threat crouching motion the moment he received the ball. Garnett instinctively lowered his center of gravity, afraid that Tim Duncan would suddenly shoot. But Tim Duncan didn't shoot at all; he simply used Garnett's fraction of a second of forward weight shift to lob the ball high towards the basket with one hand. David Robinson overpowered Mutombo to complete an alley-oop dunk.
On the sixth possession, the Celtics ' defense was in complete disarray. Mutombo was yelling for his teammates to help in the paint, but Garnett was hesitant to leave Tim Duncan open at the high post. Elliott cut from the corner, and Tim Duncan delivered a beautiful pass from the high post for the third time.
Swish. A three-pointer from the bottom corner goes in cleanly.
After a 14-4 run, the Spurs quickly took the lead.
Doc Rivers, who was sitting on the sidelines, finally couldn't sit still any longer and called a timeout with a dark expression.
Doc Rivers stared at the tactical board in his hand. He realized he was trapped in an unsolvable dead end.
If Garnett were to stick close to Tim Duncan, the paint would become a vacuum, allowing Robinson and Elliott to take turns cutting in and scoring. If Garnett were to leave Tim Duncan open to help defend, then if Tim Duncan started with a mid-range jumper from the high post or found his rhythm, he would be equally lethal.
The timeout has ended, and the game has resumed.
Mutombo was spinning like a top in the penalty area, constantly on the move. He had to help defend Robinson while also covering off-the-ball shooters, and each time he could only manage one thing at a time. Meanwhile, twenty feet above him, the person who should have shared the defensive burden was positioned high up, marking someone who wasn't planning to attack on his own.
On the sidelines, Popovich calmly sat back down in his chair, arms crossed, expressionless.
In the VIP box on the top floor, Lin Qi held a paper cup, his eyes fixed intently on the scene.
He understood it all.
Popovich's tactics were extremely cunning: the trump card that Boston regarded as its gold standard... " Garnett can limit Tim Duncan "... was completely reversed.
The more Garnett entangled Tim Duncan, the more limited Boston's defensive resources became in other areas. This rendered Garnett's greatest strength—his dominance that should have relied on terrifying help defense flexibility and wide-ranging sweeping to create local advantages and complete encirclement and annihilation.
The halftime whistle blows.
At halftime, the Spurs, playing away, headed to the locker room with a 9-point lead.
On the statistics sheet, next to Tim Duncan's name, the score column quietly displays a number: 6 points.
Inside the VIP box, the previously boisterous and enthusiastic atmosphere seemed to have been extinguished by a bucket of ice water, leaving only a suffocating silence. Matt Damon frowned, staring at the halftime stats, his expression shifting between anger and uncertainty. Standing beside him Natalie Portman pursed her lips, her gaze sweeping over the glaring contrasts on the stat sheet, and asked softly, somewhat puzzled, " Tim Duncan only scored 6 points in the first half... how come the Spurs are leading by 9?"
The private room was silent; no one could answer the seemingly contradictory question. Everyone was still caught up in the bizarre tactical contrast and couldn't come to their senses.
Lin Qi watched the players gradually leave the field. He stood up, calmly said "Excuse me" to the group, then turned and pushed open the door, walking towards the players' tunnel.