The referee tossed the ball high into the air, and Rick Smits, with his significant height advantage, touched the ball first and tipped it into Mark Jackson's hands.
The first attack of the match has officially begun.
Jackson had just dribbled the ball across half-court when he gestured for everyone to spread out. On the right wing, beyond the three-point line, Eddie Jones looked like he was under immense pressure, practically resting his chin on Reggie Miller's shoulder.
Jackson's eyes flickered, and he made a hand gesture. Dale Davis, the center, immediately understood and quickly moved up to set a solid screen for Jones. Miller used the opportunity to slip out like an eel and head straight for the top of the key.
Eddie Jones squeezed through the screen with all his might, pouncing like Hupu. But Miller didn't even glance at him. The moment he received the ball, he jerked his right foot back and leaped into the air. At the instant he released the ball, he felt that familiar touch on his fingertips, a sensation he could feel even with his eyes closed.
"Whoosh!"
The crisp sound of the net swishing against the wall instantly ignited the entire Conseco Fieldhouse.
Miller turned back to defend, expressionless. As he passed the panting Eddie Jones, he tilted his head slightly and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Welcome to Indiana, Eddie."
But the Celtics were not intimidated by this play.
Turning around, Pierce received the ball on the right horn, used an aggressive jab step to shake off Jalen Rose, and forced his way into the paint for a layup. In the very next possession, Garnett received a pass deep in the paint, and over Smits's block attempt, powerfully completed a two-handed dunk.
4 to 3.
Larry Bird Larry Bird, standing on the sidelines, frowned slightly and immediately called a timeout. He gathered the players around him and looked directly at Miller.
" Reggie, don't just sit in the corner, I need you to take over the offense more. Everyone else, give him that damn ball!"
After returning to the court, the Pacers ' tactical intentions became extremely blatant.
Jackson made the "chin action" gesture at the top of the key. Miller had been lurking in the left corner, suddenly started running, sprinting along the baseline to the right wing. Rose and Davis set up screens on either side of the free-throw line, almost simultaneously blocking Jones's chasing route.
Jones was pinned down by this wall of flesh for half a second, and in that half-second of gap, Miller had already received the ball on the right wing.
Draw your gun and jump.
The basketball traced a high arc through the air and landed precisely in the basket.
6-4! The Pacers have regained the lead.
After landing, Miller excitedly rushed towards the Celtics ' bench, pointing his index fingers at his throat.
The infamous "chokehold" gesture reappeared, and the home fans' shouts almost lifted the roof off.
Defensive assistant coach Tom Thibodeau was furiously yelling from the sidelines, demanding that Jones not give him an open shot, even if it meant committing a foul. But Miller was not only on fire tonight, but also unusually calm. On the next possession, facing Jones who was sticking to him like a mad dog, Miller faked a shot and drove to the basket, using a convincing backheel move to throw Jones off balance, then stopped abruptly and swished the ball cleanly.
At the end of the first quarter, thanks to Miller's incredible 13 points in the quarter, the Pacers established a 28-21 lead.
During the second quarter's rotation, the Celtics, taking advantage of Miller's rest, quickly erased the deficit with Gary Payton's orchestration. When the score was tied at 28, Larry Bird decisively brought his ace back in.
To contain Miller, Doc Rivers brought in Ron Harper, who had successfully limited Miller last season. But Miller clearly didn't take Ron seriously. He received the ball on the right wing beyond the three-point line, and facing Harper's lowered center of gravity defensive stance, he made an extremely agile crossover, followed by a wide-ranging step-back. By the time Harper 'Harper long arms came over, the basketball had already flown from Miller's fingertips, turning into a deadly shot.
The Celtics were forced to change their defensive strategy, resorting to a relentless double-team on Miller. Whenever he showed any inclination to receive the ball, Jones and Harper would be drawn to him like magnets. However, this completely revitalized the Pacers ' offense. Miller calmly passed the ball to the exposed Rose and Smits, leading the team to a 54-47 lead by halftime.
In the first half, Reggie Miller made 10 of 17 field goals, including 6 of 8 three-pointers, scoring a whopping 26 points.
During halftime, the atmosphere in the Pacers' locker room was exceptionally energized. Rose laughed and high-fived Miller, exclaiming that he was going crazy tonight. But Miller simply wiped the sweat from his brow calmly; he knew very well that the Boston Celtics would definitely raise their defensive intensity to a meat grinder level in the second half. Larry Bird specifically asked about his stamina, Miller stood up, a fierce glint in his eyes. "No problem, I can play all 48 minutes tonight."
Just as Miller predicted, the Celtics dragged the game into a fierce, drawn-out battle from the start of the third quarter. Eddie Jones ' defensive moves became increasingly aggressive, even resorting to elbows in blind spots. But Miller didn't back down. In one drive, facing Garnett's overwhelming help defense, he pulled off a difficult layup in mid-air, drawing a foul from Garnett in the process.
After making the 2+1 play, Miller gestured for Garnett to shut up. The hot-tempered Garnett, his eyes blazing, gritted his teeth and retorted, "You'll pay for this."
The game then turned into a fierce battle of attrition. The Celtics relied on the individual abilities of Garnett and Pierce to keep the score close, while Miller became an isolated figure for the Pacers, carrying the team's offensive firepower alone. At the end of the third quarter, the Pacers led by only one point, 68-67.
With five minutes remaining in the fourth quarter, the 18,000 fans in the arena could no longer remain seated. Every point scored, every physical collision, gripped everyone's nerves.
With 2 minutes and 54 seconds remaining in the game, Pierce's fadeaway jumper gave the Celtics an 85-84 lead.
After the timeout, possession of the ball was unsurprisingly handed to Miller. He circled out on the right wing using a screen, and Harper and Jones immediately formed a fierce double-team. Miller didn't pass the ball, but forced his way back between the two and threw the ball out with an extremely backward posture.
It was an almost impossible shot, a miracle. But under the dome of Conseco Fieldhouse, the basketball seemed to have eyes, swishing cleanly into the net. 87 to 85!
With ten seconds left, the Pacers led by four points.
The Celtics launched a final desperate attempt. Garnett drove into the paint, drawing a double team, before passing the ball to Eddie Jones in the corner.
Jones took a three-pointer, the ball bounced off the back of the rim. Pierce leaped high, grabbed the offensive rebound, and was about to tip the ball into the basket.
At that very moment, Jalen Rose burst out from the weak side baseline and, before Pierce could complete the putback, slapped the ball hard out of bounds!
The ear-piercing final buzzer suddenly blared.
The score was 91-87, the game ended.
Miller stood under the basket, arms outstretched, roaring to the sky. His teammates swarmed him, engulfing him. The big screen displayed his phenomenal stats for the night: 16-for-28 from the field, 8-for-13 from three-point range, scoring a whopping 42 points!
At the post-game press conference, facing reporters' astonishment, Miller smiled and said, "I learned one thing from a young age: to always be ready. When the opportunity comes, never hesitate. Tonight, here in front of 18,000 Indiana fans, I couldn't let them down."
Later that evening, in downtown Indianapolis, at the hotel suite where the Celtics were staying.
The room was dark, with only the dim blue light of the television screen flickering in the shadows. Lin Qi sat on the sofa, staring at the VHS game tape that the video analyst had just brought over. He held the remote and rewound Miller's difficult three-pointer, which he had hit despite being double-teamed, three times.
"This is the mark of a superstar," Lin Qi muttered to himself.
The suite door opened, Doc Rivers, who had just finished the post-game press conference, walked in with a sullen expression, his tie loosened. He tossed his clipboard onto the coffee table and plopped down in the armchair next to him. "Our defensive strategy failed. Whether it was one-on-one defense or double-teaming, we couldn't contain him at all tonight."
Lin Qi pressed the pause button on the remote. Amidst the slight hiss of a tape, the image, streaked with static, froze on Miller's resolute gaze as he released the ball. "When a historic shooter finds his rhythm at home, with nearly 20,000 fans cheering him on, it's incredibly difficult to defend. But Game 4 is still here. If we lose, the series will be tied 2-2, and Indiana will have completely turned the tide."
Doc Rivers rubbed his temples and turned to Lin Qi: "What's your suggestion?"
"Don't just focus on Miller on defense." Lin Qi put down the remote control, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. " Miller played 42 minutes and scored 42 points tonight. For a 35-year-old veteran, the energy expenditure is exponential. In Game 4, we need to focus on offense. Let Chris Paul and Kevin punish them in the low post and speed up our offensive possessions."
A cold, calculating glint flashed in Lin Qi's eyes. "We need to force Miller to chase after players on defense, to fight physically, to wear down his remaining energy reserves. If his legs feel like lead, he won't be able to make those incredible shots in the fourth quarter. Remember, Doc, our goal is the championship; the pressure should be on them."
At Late Night., Indianapolis was already asleep.
Reggie Miller lay in his bedroom in his villa, staring at the ceiling. Every muscle in his body ached in protest, but his brain was in a state of extreme excitement.
42 points. This is his third 40+ point game in his playoff career. The last time was back in the 1998 Eastern Conference Finals against the man named Michael Jordan. That year, they fell at the last step. And this year, he will not repeat the same mistake.
He got up and walked to the French windows, gazing at the tranquil night outside. His thoughts suddenly drifted back to the basketball court in his backyard from his childhood. The rusty hoop, the 20-foot by 20-foot concrete court. Because of a congenital leg deformity, he had to walk with heavy iron braces. But it was in that backyard, to avoid being blocked by his taller and stronger sister Cheryl, that he developed that strange yet incredibly fast shooting motion, and the flexibility to jump through the flowerbeds.
From removing the metal braces, to being selected by UCLA, and now standing here.
His entire life was spent proving himself to those who looked down on him.
Miller picked up his phone and texted his sister Cheryl: "I scored 42 points. Remember those backyard one-on-one games?"
Soon, the screen lit up with Cheryl's text message reply, "Of course I remember. You used to get blocked by me all the time, and then you'd cry and say you'd be the best shooter in America someday. Now you've done it, bro. But this is only the third game, keep fighting."
Miller looked at the screen, a relieved smile playing on his lips.
Yes, the battle is far from over; the series is only 2-1.
But at least tonight, he proved one thing to everyone.
In this city, on this stadium, he remains the same Reggie Miller who never gives up.
Miller went back to bed and closed his eyes.
This time, he slept very soundly.
In his dream, he returned to the backyard in that summer, caught the ball, jumped, and shot.
The basketball swished through the net, just like always.