February 13, United Center, Chicago.
The All-Star Weekend hype had barely subsided when the Boston Celtics, basking in the glow of their "five stars," stepped into the hallowed halls of Michael Jordan's former glory.
But tonight, standing in the center of the court to greet them was a man wearing a Chicago Bulls red jersey, whose eyes were colder than Boston winter...
Kobe Brian.
After being traded to the Chicago Bulls, Kobe completely broke free from all constraints. Under the enormous shadow left by Jordan, he unleashed an extremely frenzied scoring mode. But tonight, facing the Celtics with five All-Stars, the desire and hostility in Kobe's eyes were so intense that they almost overflowed.
The match was set to be extremely fierce from the very first second.
Doc Doug Christie was tasked with guarding Kobe. This defensive stalwart is extremely adept at tenacious defense, but tonight Kobe was completely unreasonable.
In the first possession of the game, Kobe received the ball on the right side beyond the three-point line. Without calling a screen or taking a jab step, he forced a pull-up jumper against Doug Christie's fingertip-sized defense.
"Whoosh."
Hollow core into the net.
Kobe retreated on defense with a blank expression, not even glancing at the Celtics players.
For the remainder of the quarter, Kobe took all of the Chicago Bulls' shots. He used a variety of extremely difficult fadeaway jumpers and layups to challenge Doug Christie and Pierce's defense.
But he was too fixated on "beating a five-star team by himself".
Midway through the second quarter, Chicago Bulls ' key center Elton Brand worked incredibly hard to get perfect positioning in the low post, effectively shutting Big Ben Brand down behind him.
" Kobe! Over here!" Brand spread his arms wide, calling for the ball.
But Kobe stood at the top of the arc with the ball, entering an extremely focused state, his eyes like a tunnel vision, completely blocking out his teammates' shouts. Facing Chris Paul Pierce's defense, he forced his way into the paint.
Garnett had already spread his terrifyingly long arms in the help defense position.
Despite being surrounded by two players, Kobe still didn't pass to Brand, who was open. Instead, he twisted his body in mid-air, leaned back, and shot.
"Bang."
The basketball slammed heavily against the rim and bounced out of bounds.
Brand let his hands fall limply, his shoulders slumped. He glanced at Kobe, but Kobe just stared coldly at the referee, complaining about the physical contact, without even giving his teammate an apologetic look.
As the game progressed, the Celtics' formidable defensive network began to tighten.
Kobe's physical condition inevitably declined. His jumping height decreased, and the arc of his fadeaway jump became flatter. The sound of missed shots echoed repeatedly in the United Center.
Even so, Kobe Chicago Bulls maintained firm control of the ball for the Bulls. Once he got the ball, he would never pass it out again.
On the other hand, the Celtics' play, with Pierce, Garnett, and Gary Payton, was incredibly fluid and efficient.
The score, like flesh being cut by a dull knife, was gradually and irreversibly widened.
Towards the end of the third quarter, Rick Carlisle made a decisive move, bringing on the Celtics ' second unit.
Billups, Bowen, Artest, Rasheed Wallace, Brad Miller.
When this lineup came on the court, the Chicago Bulls ' head coach even closed his eyes in despair. Facing a lineup that could easily be a starter on other teams, the Chicago Bulls ' bench looked like a bunch of college students.
The point difference quickly widened to over 20 points.
But Kobe stayed on the court. He refused to leave, refusing to accept the massacre.
In the fourth quarter, the game completely entered garbage time.
Rick Carlisle didn't bring in the starters, instead keeping the bench players on the court. At this point, Ron Artest became the one guarding Kobe.
This was the most difficult part of Kobe's entire night.
Artest wasn't a skillful defender like Doug Christie; he was an unstoppable bulldozer. From the moment he came on, Artest used his incredibly strong chest and forearms to stick to Kobe.
"Bang!"
Kobe tried to catch the ball, Artest shoved him aside with his body, a very aggressive move.
Kobe received the ball and attempted a triple threat. Artest was not fooled at all; he spread his arms and, like a wild beast, covered Kobe's lower body, constantly using his knees and hips to disrupt Kobe's balance.
During a forced drive, Kobe's elbow struck Artest squarely in the chest. Anyone else might have fallen, but Artest only grunted and slapped Kobe's wrist with his backhand, sending the ball out of bounds.
"You're not getting through, buddy." Artest grinned, staring at Kobe like a typical street thug.
Kobe was panting heavily, sweat dripping down his chin. He glanced at the scoreboard; they were down by 24 points. He looked at the stats; his shooting percentage tonight was abysmal.
A kind of rage called "powerlessness" completely consumed this Black Mamba.
In the next possession, Kobe called for the ball in the right corner. Artest fronted him to defend, and the two grappled fiercely without the ball. Artest subtly pinched Kobe's lower back.
Kobe's nerves finally snapped.
He shoved Artest away abruptly. The referee immediately blew his whistle.
In the dead ball situation, Kobe didn't step back, but instead took a step forward, his face almost touching Artest's nose.
He pointed his finger at Artest's face, his lips moving rapidly.
The arena was too noisy, and Kobe was speaking in a low voice, so neither the referees nor the spectators could hear what Kobe was saying.
But Artest heard it clearly. It was an extremely filthy and highly insulting piece of trash.
Artest's eyes instantly turned bloodshot, a deep purple. The sliver of reason in this beast from the Queensbridge of New York snapped instantly.
I'll kill you!!!
Artest roared, clenched his fists, and pounced on Kobe like a mad dog out of control.
At this critical moment...
" Ron! Stop!"
Rasheed Wallace, who was standing closest, grabbed Artest from behind and hugged him tightly around the waist. Brad Miller also rushed over quickly, using his massive body to block Artest and Kobe like a wall, and forcefully pushed Artest backward.
"Don't fucking lay a hand on me!" Billups rushed over and grabbed Artest's arm. "He's trying to provoke you! Don't fall for his tricks, do you want to get suspended?!"
Artest was still struggling violently, glaring fiercely at Kobe, his teeth grinding together.
Kobe stood still, neither backing down nor making another move. He simply looked at Artest, who had been pulled away by the crowd, with an extremely cold and detached gaze, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
The referee applied equal blame to both players, issuing a technical foul to each.
The match ended abruptly after this farce.
As the final whistle blew, the Celtics cruised to a resounding victory on the road.
The players from both teams did not shake hands. Kobe lowered his head, pulled out the hem of his jersey to wipe the sweat from his face, and walked towards the player tunnel without looking back.
On the big screen, Kobe Brian's stats for tonight were displayed.
He played 43 minutes, making 12 of 32 field goal attempts and 9 of 9 free throws, scoring 33 points, grabbing 4 rebounds, and dishing out 1 assist.
Lin Qi stood on the sidelines, watching the 22-year-old's back as he walked alone into the dark passage.
12 out of 32.
An assist that was almost entirely meaningless.
After being traded to Chicago and separated from O'Neal, Kobe had unlimited shooting opportunities and became the league's leading scorer. But tonight, he delivered an extremely inefficient, obsessive, and even confrontational performance, demonstrating what true isolation means.
In stark contrast, the Celtics' bench players were chatting and high-fiving each other.
Under the brilliance of the five-star lineup, Kobe Brian became an isolated island sunk in the United Center.