The third quarter begins.
When the Celtics began to execute their double-team strategy decisively, Kobe and the Lakers ' role players stepped up.
In the first minute of the third quarter, Garnett and Mutombo had just formed a double team, but O'Neal, with his incredible height and vision, quickly passed the ball through the defense. Kobe then drained a three-pointer from the outside! 66-54!
In the third minute of the third quarter, O'Neal was double-teamed again. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, he skillfully moved the ball wide to Peja in the corner. Peja fired a three-pointer, which swished through the net!
On the defensive end, Mutombo and Ben Wallace's foul counts are climbing irreversibly and insanely.
In the 4th minute of the third quarter, Mutombo picked up his fourth personal foul and was forced to leave the game! In the 6th minute of the third quarter, Ben Wallace picked up his fifth foul while stubbornly guarding O'Neal, and was just one step away from being discharged!
The score is now 75-62, with the Lakers leading by 13 points.
The Celtics ' interior defense is at its lowest point.
Doc Rivers, in a state of panic, called a timeout. He was out of options and could only grit his teeth and look at the big white guy on the bench. " Brad, you go up there and fill in for a few minutes!"
Brad Miller stood up.
As an undrafted player, Miller's ability to establish himself in the NBA was never based on outstanding talent, but on the fierceness honed through his struggles at the bottom. He stepped onto the court without any fear.
Faced with O'Neal's positional play, Miller not only did not back down, but instead used his knee to forcefully ram O'Neal's knee into the back of his leg, while his left hand secretly grabbed the purple and gold No. 34 jersey.
This constant teetering on the edge of foul trouble made O'Neal feel a little annoyed.
"Bang!" O'Neal caught the ball and slammed it in. Miller let out a muffled groan, feeling as if he had been hit in the chest with a heavy hammer, but he gritted his teeth and, using the momentum from pulling on his jersey, managed to hold on without taking a single step back!
Two consecutive back-to-the-basket moves failed to completely break the white center's defensive focus. A flash of rage crossed O'Neal's eyes.
"Get out of my way!" O'Neal roared, catching the ball and suddenly turning halfway around. Using the terrifying momentum of the turn, his broad shoulders, along with his heavy elbows, swung out with a whoosh!
"Bang!"
There was no crisp thud, only a dull, terrifying sound of bones Crash!
O'Neal's iron elbow slammed squarely into Brad Miller's left eyebrow!
With a scream, Miller crashed heavily to the floor, clutching his face in pain. O'Neal, without even looking down, leaped up and slammed the ball into the basket with both hands!
"Beep!!!!"
The baseline referee blew his whistle, but pointed at Miller, who was lying on the ground... Defensive blocking foul! 2+1!
The Staples Center erupted in deafening jubilation, but the Celtics ' team doctor and bench players had already rushed onto the court like madmen.
Miller curled up on the floor in agony. When the team doctor forcibly pulled his hands away from his face, everyone around gasped... A gash had been ripped open on his left eyebrow, and bright red blood was gushing out wildly, staining half his cheek red in just a few seconds, dripping onto the clean floor.
"Damn! That's an offensive foul! He just swung his elbow!" Rasheed yelled at the referee, pointing at the big screen, while Doc Rivers held him tightly.
But the referees remained unmoved. In their view, as long as O'Neal's turnaround was legal, such physical contact was a legitimate battle in the paint.
The team doctor quickly pressed thick gauze firmly against Miller's wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
"Stop fucking pressing!" Miller, his face covered in blood, shoved the team medic's hand away and struggled to his feet. Blood mixed with sweat streamed into his left eye, forcing him to squint and yell at Doc Rivers, "Get me some super tape! I can still fight! I'm going to kill that fat bastard today!"
"Shut up, Brad! The wound is too deep, it needs stitches! The league has a rule that bleeding forces you to leave the game!" Assistant coach Thibodeau and the team doctor, one on each side, firmly held down the still cursing tough guy and forcibly dragged him toward the player tunnel.
The match was forced to stop.
The atmosphere in front of the Celtics' bench was incredibly tense, almost suffocatingly brutal.
Mutombo had his fourth foul, Big Ben his fifth, and Brad Miller was forced to leave the game with a cut above his eyebrow. Staff members were hurriedly wiping away the glaring bloodstain on the penalty area floor with towels.
Doc Rivers stared at the list, his mind blank.
In this suffocatingly desperate situation, Lin Qi suddenly stood up.
He didn't look at the tactics board, nor at the dejected starters; instead, he turned his head and his gaze fell on a figure at the very back of the water cooler.
Lin Qi turned to Doc Rivers and gave an order that left everyone speechless.
" Doc, let Wang Zhizhi play. We don't have anyone else."
Doc Rivers abruptly looked up at Lin Qi in disbelief, then pointed towards the player tunnel. "Lin... even Brad got injured, what about Wang's frail physique? He'd be torn to shreds by Shaq if he went inside now!"
But seeing the unwavering look in Lin Qi's eyes, Doc Rivers gritted his teeth, turned and yelled at the end of the bench.
"Your Majesty! Take off your clothes! Get ready to go on stage!"
In the corner, the tall China man who had been sitting quietly paused for a moment. Then, he stood up.
Can't stop Shaq? Who in the entire league can stop Shaq? He's not afraid of being a background character. As long as he can play, even if he gets his ribs broken by that Big Shark, it's worth it!
Wang Zhizhi ripped off his heavy green warm-up suit, revealing a brand-new jersey.
The Staples Center's broadcast camera instantly cut to this unfamiliar Asia face.
The 20,000 Lakers fans in the arena were stunned for a moment, then erupted in a cacophony of laughter and shrill boos. In their eyes, Boston's interior defense was completely wiped out; even their tough white men had been outmatched, and they had sent in a skinny guy who could only wave a towel during garbage time to "die."
Wang Zhizhi ignored the boos. He took a deep breath, walked straight past the drop of blood left by Brad Miller on the sideline, and stepped onto the smooth floor of Staples.
On NBC's nationwide broadcast, the two commentators also let out an incredulous exclamation.
Bob Costas: " Wang Zhizhi! The Celtics actually fielded this rookie from China! If I remember correctly, this is his first appearance in this year's playoffs, and it's in such a desperate situation in the NBA Finals?!"
Isiah Thomas shook his head repeatedly. " Boston is out of Bob. Mutombo has four fouls, Big Ben has five, and Brad Miller was beaten so badly he had to go to the hospital for stitches. Doc Rivers is just trying anything now. But honestly, I don't think it will work. There's no one in the entire league who can guard Shaq one-on-one tonight."
Amidst a chorus of taunts, the match resumed.
The Celtics are on offense.
Gary Payton dribbled the ball up the court. Everyone thought the Celtics would pass the ball to Garnett.
Wang Zhizhi ran straight to the three-point line at the left corner.
Inside the paint, O'Neal glanced at Wang Zhizhi in the corner, gave a disdainful sneer, and didn't follow him out. In the rules of the center position in this era, a big man floating on the outside was synonymous with a softie; his job was to guard the paint.
Garnett set a screen, completely blocking O'Neal Jr.. Gary Payton flicked his wrist, precisely traversing half-court and flying towards the left corner.
Wang Zhizhi received the ball steadily.
Within three meters of him, there was no one! O'Neal didn't even bother to extend his hand.
This was his first touch of the ball in his NBA playoff career. There was no hesitation, no adjustment; it was muscle memory that had been tediously repeated a hundred thousand times in the training gym.
Take off, flick your wrist with your left hand, and follow a smooth, high arc.
The laughter from the crowd abruptly ceased, and everyone's eyes were fixed on the basketball as it traced a long trajectory through the air.
"Whoosh...!"
Three points, swished through the net!
75-65! The point difference is back to 10 points!
"Boom--!!"
Isiah Thomas ripped off his headset in the commentary booth and shouted excitedly, "My God! He made a three-pointer!"
Wang Zhizhi landed, clenched his fists tightly, and turned around to retreat quickly.
Garnett roared as he retreated, charging forward and excitedly slapping Wang Zhizhi hard on the back with his large hand.
"Smack!"
The blow was so powerful that it nearly caused the unsuspecting Wang Zhizhi to stumble.
"Well done, Wang!" Garnett glared with bloodshot eyes, revealing his white teeth, his expression unusually excited, spewing out a torrent of street slang, "That's how it's done! When we get to the defense, give that fat bastard a good kick to the ass! Tear his ass in half, rip him to shreds!"
Wang Zhizhi rubbed his back, which was throbbing from the slaps, while revealing a clear and helpless look of bewilderment.
"Huh?" Wang Zhizhi froze, blinked, and looked at Garnett for help, managing to stammer out a broken English sentence, "You... you... what did you say? What do you mean?"
Garnett's frenzied fighting spirit was instantly interrupted from casting the spell. He rolled his eyes helplessly, could only point forcefully at O'Neal under the basket, then made a punching motion, followed by a "shooting" gesture.
Wang Zhizhi then nodded in realization and gave an "OK" sign.
Watching this incongruous inside duo, Lin Qi on the sidelines couldn't help but want to laugh even in this suffocating predicament.
The game transitioned from offense to defense. A flash of annoyance crossed the eyes of the Lakers players.
"Give me the ball!" O'Neal roared in the low post, trapping Wang Zhizhi behind him.
The enormous weight difference was insurmountable. After receiving the ball, O'Neal suddenly lowered his shoulder and pushed off backward!
With a muffled thud, Wang Zhizhi felt as if his chest had been hit head-on by an out-of-control truck. The intense pain instantly spread throughout his body, and his entire defensive balance collapsed in an instant.
O'Neal roared as he turned around, ready to jump and deliver a brutal dunk to get back at O'Neal.
But just as he was about to jump, Wang Zhizhi gritted his teeth and, instead of dodging, pounced on him, grabbing O'Neal's thick arms and hanging on the Big Shark, forcefully pulling him down!
"Beep!!!"
The referee blows the whistle, a defensive foul!
O'Neal angrily shoved Wang Zhizhi aside, glaring fiercely at the reckless Asia rookie. Wang Zhizhi, however, simply raised his hand expressionlessly and rubbed his chest, which felt like it was about to fall apart from the impact.
"Well done, Wang!" Thibodeau clapped loudly on the sidelines. "That's it! Let him go to the free-throw line!"
However, tonight's Staples belongs to Shaquille O'Neal O'Neal.
O'Neal stepped up to the free-throw line and made both! 77-65!
His free throws tonight were ridiculously accurate!
In the next possession, when Wang Zhizhi stood beyond the three-point line again, O'Neal hesitated. He was forced to take two steps outward, expanding his defensive area.
Just those two steps, and the Lakers' paint was wide open!
Pierce used a screen to cut into the paint in an instant, and facing an empty basket, he easily made a layup!
Taking advantage of the space created by Wang Zhizhi, Garnett and Pierce took turns attacking the basket, and the Celtics launched a counterattack.
When the final whistle blew at the end of the third quarter, the score was 82-75!
The Celtics, who were once down by 13 points, managed to narrow the gap to 7 points!
"A surprise weapon! Wang Zhizhi has become the game-changer!" Bob Costas looked at the stats. "Although he only had one foul and one three-pointer at the end of the third quarter, his tactical value on the court cannot be measured by statistics!"
Mid-season break. Celtics bench.
Everyone was panting heavily, but hope rekindled in their eyes.
Lin Qi walked up to Wang Zhizhi. The rookie's chest was red and he was breathing rapidly, clearly having paid a heavy price for his efforts in battling O'Neal in the paint.
"Well done." Lin Qi handed him a towel. "Fourth quarter, keep shooting. As long as Shaq doesn't come out, keep shooting! If he gets inside and isolates you, keep fouling! Use up all six of your fouls!"
The game went into a fierce fourth quarter.
In the first five minutes, the Celtics narrowed the gap to 5 points!
The air in Staples Center seemed to freeze, and Phil Jackson was forced to request a timeout.
But at this critical juncture when the Celtics were about to rise to prominence, another nuclear weapon of the Purple and Gold Legion was awakened.
When O'Neal's energy was waning in the fourth quarter, and when the Celtics ' perimeter players focused all their attention on double-teaming the paint... Kobe Brian took over the game.
"Swish!" At a 45-degree angle on the right, Kobe faced Eddie Jones's fingertip-bound defense and forcefully pulled up for a mid-range jumper, sinking the shot!
"Swish!" In the next possession, Kobe backed down Gary Payton on the baseline, unleashed a smooth fadeaway jumper, and the ball swished through the net!
When Shaq was exhausted, the bloodthirsty Black Mamba used the coldest, most classic one-on-one tactics to cut off Boston's comeback momentum, stroke by stroke.
Although Wang Zhizhi made a corner three-pointer and successfully executed the "Hack-a-Shaq " strategy, he ultimately couldn't stop Big Shark from dominating the paint due to the absolute difference in talent.
In the 8th minute of the fourth quarter, Wang Zhizhi received his fourth personal foul.
In the 10th minute of the fourth quarter, Wang Zhizhi, exhausted, didn't even have time to foul before O'Neal delivered a furious putback dunk over him!
As time ticked away, the score difference hovered between 7 and 9 points. Boston gave it their all, but still couldn't overcome this seemingly close yet insurmountable gap.
"Beep--!"
The final red light came on.
The Los Angeles Lakers narrowly won 98-90 at home, bringing the series score to 1-2.
The 20,000 fans at Staples Center breathed a sigh of relief and erupted in a deafening celebration, as if they had survived a disaster.
O'Neal roared to the sky and tore at his jersey with all his might.
Throughout the game, he racked up 42 points and 18 rebounds, and even made 10 of 12 free throws!
This was Shaquille O'Neal's legendary battle.
In this game, Kobe also delivered a stellar performance with 27 points, 5 rebounds, and 9 assists, especially his series of difficult shots in the fourth quarter, which effectively sealed the victory.
Compared to the Lakers' jubilant Lakers, the Celtics players appeared dejected.
Wang Zhizhi walked towards the player tunnel, rubbing his bruised chest. He scored 6 points and committed 4 fouls, making 2 of 3 three-point attempts. Although the game was lost, he proved he could offer some value on this NBA Finals stage.
Lin Qi stood on the sidelines, watching the OK Duo being interviewed by NBC in the center of the court, his eyes showing no sign of disappointment at losing.
The loss was expected; after all, this is Staples, and the OK Duo is not going to be easily swept aside.
But he turned his head and glanced at the Los Angeles Lakers' bench.
After finishing his interview, Shaquille O'Neal O'Neal walked to the bench and collapsed heavily into a chair like a mountain of flesh. The team doctor immediately rushed over and wrapped thick ice packs around his knees. The Big Shark was panting heavily, sweat pouring down his face like a waterfall.