In late November, three full weeks had passed since that resounding victory over the Knicks in the opening game.
Back-to-back games, red-eye flights, temperature differences between different cities, and non-stop away trips form the true essence of this long season.
Before arriving in Salt Lake City, the Boston Celtics boasted a dominant 12-game winning streak, leading the entire league. This relentless winning streak gave them the illusion that their "dynamic offense" was invincible, and they thought they could manipulate all opponents with their dazzling passing and cutting.
They finally arrived in Salt Lake City at 2 a. m. after a grueling four-game road trip in the Western Conference.
Delta Center Arena, one of the most intimidating home courts in the entire league. It not only has thousands of extremely fanatical Mormon fans, but also the players suffer from altitude sickness that causes them great distress.
Tonight will be the first litmus test for "dynamic offense." Standing on the other side of the court is the Utah Jazz, who have ingrained half-court offense and execution into their DNA, and the old-fashioned, stubborn, yet ruthless coach, Jerry Sloan.
In the TNT broadcast booth, veteran commentator Marv Albert was rapidly flipping through the statistics for both teams. "Welcome to Salt Lake City! Tonight's focus is undoubtedly on the defending champions, Boston, who are on a 12-game winning streak. But Doc, tonight's Jazz starting lineup includes a face that Boston fans will recognize very well."
Commentator Doc Collins immediately chimed in with a laugh, "That's right, Robert Horry. This summer, Lin Qi traded Horry to Salt Lake City in exchange for draft picks in order to make room for their young forwards."
" Lin Qi is an excellent trader, and this deal is definitely a win-win situation in the long run," Collins said, his tone turning slightly sarcastic. "But tonight, Lin Qi might have to worry a bit more from the sidelines. Horry's ability to create space makes the Utah Jazz's already unstoppable pick-and-roll even more deadly."
Collins ' prediction came true just five minutes into the game.
Doc Rivers temporarily pulled Mutombo, replacing him with Rasheed at center, and Artest replaced Eddie Jones. The Celtics attempted to continue their proud "dynamic offense" on the high-altitude court. Garnett mentioned facilitating play from the free-throw line, Gary Payton passed the ball and cut to the weak side, while Pierce circled out from the baseline using a screen.
This tactic, which requires extremely high teamwork and quick reading of the defense, was like hitting a seamless concrete wall against the experienced Utah Jazz.
The Jazz's defensive rotations were frighteningly tight. Stockton slipped through the screen like an eel and stuck to Gary Payton. Malone shifted half a step to Pierce's receiving lane, betting that Garnett wouldn't dare to shoot directly. Horry, meanwhile, collapsed into the paint from the weak side, blocking Artest's cutting route in advance.
The Utah Jazz compressed every option into a decision that had to be made within half a second. For a team still learning this system, this was more difficult than being completely shut down.
Garnett stood at the free-throw line, ball in hand, his mind racing.
"The opponent didn't switch defense... the center didn't rush out... Pierce was screened... Artest... cutting to the basket!"
Garnett spotted Artest charging in from the bottom corner. He quickly flicked his wrist and sent a bounce pass into the penalty area.
However, just as Artest started his run, Pierce was supposed to move towards the three-point line from the short corner, but Malone blocked his path half a step ahead. Pierce had to change direction and try to cut back. At the same moment, Artest also started his run from the other corner.
The two people see the same gap, but they don't exchange glances to confirm who enters first. This is the most undesirable situation in a dynamic system.
"Bang!"
The two young forwards collided heavily at the edge of the paint, Pierce stumbled from the impact, Artest also lost his footing.
Stockton, who had been waiting for a long time, reached out like a ghost and snatched the ball away, immediately dribbling up the court. Malone followed along the middle. Boston's retreat defense was disrupted by the collision, Garnett could only turn around to protect the basket.
"A turnover! Boston's fourth turnover of the quarter! Three of them stem from overlapping runs or hesitant passes!" Marv Albert exclaimed. "Two Boston players are running to the same spot! This 12-game winning streak champion team looks like their game has crashed tonight!"
After entering the frontcourt, Stockton stopped abruptly beyond the three-point line, feigned a shot, and then bounced the ball to Malone, who was following up. Malone drew Garnett's collapse, and after Horry landed in the left corner, he passed the ball to him.
With a swift movement, the knife fell.
"Whoosh!"
A three-pointer swished through the net!
As Horry retreated on defense, he shrugged, blew on his fingers, and made a shooting gesture, facing the Celtics ' bench—or more precisely, towards Lin Qi.
At the end of the first quarter, the score was 28-20. The roar from Delta Center almost lifted the dome of the arena. The enormous noise, combined with the thin air of the high altitude, made the Boston Celtics players feel like their chests were on fire.
On the court, Gary Payton completely lost his composure.
"Damn it! What are you guys doing?!" Gary Payton roared at Pierce and Artest as he retreated on defense. "This is a basketball court, not a bumper car amusement park! Can't you two idiots even tell east from west?!"
Artest retorted, sticking his neck out. "He blocked my path! I saw Kevin's eyes; the ball was passed to me!"
"Shut up! I don't care who got the ball, if it didn't go in, you're all idiots!" Gary Payton retorted mercilessly.
He turned to Garnett, his anger still burning. "And you, Kevin! What were you hesitating for at the free-throw line? Malone was back so deep, why didn't you just shoot?!"
Garnett was panting heavily, sweat pouring down his bald head. Altitude sickness made him unusually irritable.
"Don't bother me, Gary. I know what I'm doing. I'm waiting for the right moment to pass the ball!"
"To hell with timing!" Gary Payton ripped Garnett's jersey by the collar, spitting as he did so. "When there's no one two meters in front of you, the basket is the best spot! Don't play like a nerd solving equations in the library!"
Just as the two were arguing fiercely, Carl Malone strolled past them leisurely. The power forward with his steely muscles grinned, revealing a mocking smile.
"Keep arguing, kids," Malone's voice was deep and authoritative. "When you're done arguing, take some more oxygen. Otherwise, the altitude here will cost you."
Gary Payton whirled around, glaring fiercely at Malone: "Shut your mouth! Even if I suffocate today, I'll shove the ball up your nostril before I die! Let you experience what it's like to be suffocated!"
Malone laughed heartily, seemingly unconcerned, and turned to run towards the front court.
At the start of the second quarter, the Celtics ' offense remained like rusty gears. "Overthinking" is currently the biggest problem with this system. Sometimes, players start thinking about how to handle the ball the instant they receive it.
In the commentary booth, Doc Collins shook his head repeatedly. "I saw Boston's players stop and think several times. Boston wants to play the selfless team basketball of the future, but Jerry Sloan is telling them with the simplest pick-and-roll that in Salt Lake City, thinking too much is tantamount to suicide."
With two minutes remaining in the second quarter, the score was 45-32, with the difference still in double digits.
Another offensive thwarted. Garnett was blocked by Malone at the free-throw line, his passing lanes completely shut down. Gary Payton received a back pass at the top of the arc, only to find Stockton clinging to him like an octopus.
With twelve seconds left on the clock, Gary Payton glanced at the timer and realized they didn't have time for a second pass, abruptly abandoning all complex runs and calls. He reached out and made a simple, blunt gesture.
"Pull it open--!"
Gary Payton roared at the flanks, his voice still clearly audible in the noisy Delta Center.
"Get the hell out of my way! Stand on the weak side! Don't move!"
Hearing Gary Payton's roar, Pierce and Rasheed on the court paused for a moment and obediently retreated to the baseline. Garnett immediately understood and moved away from the free-throw line, dropping to the weak-side corner, forcing Malone to choose between help defense and leaving him open, clearing out the entire wide space from the top of the key to the free-throw line.
With six seconds left, Gary Payton turned sideways, using his height advantage to establish position near the free-throw line, and used his broad back to firmly hold off Stockton, beginning his signature post-up move.
"Bang! Bang!" The dull thuds of muscles colliding echoed. Gary Payton savagely drove into the paint, spitting out trash talk as he went. " John! You're like an accountant in a jersey! You can't stop me, go back to your falsified accounts!"
Stockton remained expressionless, subtly nudging Gary Payton's knee against the back of his leg. Horry took a step towards the penalty area from the weak side, but Pierce was already positioned at the bottom corner. Gary Payton knew this was the window he needed: if Horry even half a step closer, Pierce would have open space.
Two seconds left on the countdown.
Gary Payton suddenly exerted force, pushing Stockton aside by half a body length, and then, using his left foot as a pivot, smoothly completed a turnaround fadeaway jump shot towards the baseline.
"Whoosh!"
A clean swish, a last-minute winner!
After landing, Gary Payton glared at Stockton: "That's the first goal, John. For the rest of the night, I'm going to keep scoring over you until you're crying and begging Jerry Sloan to substitute you!"
Stockton walked away expressionlessly.
On the sidelines, Doc Collins couldn't help but laugh out loud, "Look, Marv! This is how old-school players solve things! When the tactics don't work, Gary Payton has dragged the game back to the most primitive street bullfighting!"
This goal was like a shot in the arm for Boston, who were on the verge of suffocation.
In the second half, the game turned into a quagmire. The Celtics didn't abandon their dynamic offense, but temporarily downgraded it to the simplest two-tiered options: first, run the pick-and-roll between Gary Payton and Garnett, then pass the ball out after the defense collapses. The team no longer made everyone read all five variations, but only kept the two most reliable exits.
With three minutes remaining in the fourth quarter, the score was tied at 88.
Garnett screened Stockton at the high post, and Gary Payton used the screen to drive to the free-throw line. Malone stepped back to protect the free-throw line, giving Gary Payton what seemed like a shot opportunity; but Gary Payton suddenly accelerated, forcing Malone to move laterally to help, waving his elbow and yelling, "Don't even think about getting past me, little guy!"
"Get out of my way, you country bumpkin!" Gary Payton twisted his body before colliding with Malone, subtly slipping the ball under Malone's arm.
Garnett, who was cutting to the basket, received the ball and, facing Robert Horry who was collapsing from the weak side corner to help defend, leaped into the air like a spring rising from the ground.
"Boom--!"
Garnett, over Horry, unleashed a brutal one-handed dunk, slamming the basketball into the hoop! Upon landing, Garnett's momentum collided with Horry, sending Horry staggering back two steps. The referee warned both players to control their emotions.
Garnett roared to the sky, "Is that all you've got?! As soft as hot butter!"
Horry rubbed his chest and sneered, "Save your energy, Kevin. I have no personal grudge against you."
With 30 seconds left in the game, Boston led by two points and the Jazz had possession.
Stockton and Malone initiated a pick-and-roll at the top of the key. The Celtics had prepared this "mid-court double-team on the last two possessions" before the game. Garnett did not completely abandon Malone, but instead formed a brief double-team with Gary Payton when Stockton dribbled across half-court and entered the sideline trap.
Stockton managed to pass the ball to Malone. Artest lunged out from the weak side, pressing down on the basketball with both hands. Malone tried to pull the ball away, but the two strong men twisted the same ball and eventually fell to the floor together.
"Beep--!"
The referee blows the whistle, and a jump ball is declared!
Artest scrambled to his feet, pounding his chest furiously at Malone: "This is my fucking turf! Nobody gets to receive the ball comfortably!"
According to the rules at the time, both teams had to jump for the ball again at center court. Garnett won possession with his speed and tipped the ball to Gary Payton. Jerry Sloan roared angrily on the sidelines, and the Utah Jazz were forced to commit a tactical foul. Gary Payton went to the free-throw line and calmly made both shots. With Stockton's last-second three-point attempt missing, the game was no longer in doubt.
Relying on a downgraded system, superstar takeover, and relentless, dog-like defense, the Boston Celtics narrowly escaped the Delta Center with a 94-91 victory, extending their winning streak to 13 games.
As the final whistle blew, Gary Payton rested his hands on his knees, panting heavily. Garnett walked over, put his arm around Gary Payton's neck, and the two of them touched heads without saying a word.
On the sidelines, the documentary team's equipment faithfully ran, red recording lights flashing in the dimly lit arena. The cameras captured this "ugly" victory.
Doc Rivers looked at the scoreboard and let out a long sigh of relief, but his brow remained furrowed.
Lin Qi stood up from the bench and buttoned up his suit jacket.
"We won, but it was a really ugly win," assistant coach David Blatt whispered to Lin Qi.
"It's supposed to look bad." Lin Qi turned to the camera with its red light on, his tone calm and unfathomable. "If we don't even know how to win when the system fails, what makes us think we can solve that big problem in Los Angeles in June? Let's go, tomorrow's video analysis class is going to be a real argument."