On May 31, at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, three thousand miles from Boston.
Nearly twenty hours have passed since the end of Game 5 of the Western Conference Finals.
There was no joy in the Los Angeles Lakers ' physical therapy room after winning Game 5 last night.
Shaquille O'Neal O'Neal slumped onto the king-size physical therapy bed, his massive, hill-like body sinking heavily into the mat. Physician Gary Vitti knelt on the floor, sweating profusely as he treated O'Neal's right toes. It was O'Neal old injury that had flared up during the intense playoff battles of the past month.
At the other end of the physiotherapy room, Jason Kidd was soaking his feet in an ice bucket. Thick ice packs were on his knees, and he held a sports drink in his hand. After the growing pains of last summer's major roster overhaul, Kidd has become the Lakers ' new backcourt playmaker.
Kidd looked up and glanced at O'Neal across from him. The two exchanged a weary look through the bandages and towels scattered on the floor. In last night's physical battle, it was Kidd's strenuous efforts to keep O'Neal's energy levels up.
Lamar Odom and Sean Marion sat on the benches on either side, letting the instruments hum and vibrate their muscles. Marion's right shoulder was wrapped in a thick bandage, while Quentin Richardson stared silently at the wall-mounted television.
On the television screen, colorful confetti filled the air at Boston's North Shore Garden, and a glaring caption read, "4-1, Boston Celtics advance to the NBA Finals."
Head coach Phil Jackson emerged from the coach's office, a cup of unsweetened black coffee in his hand. His gaze swept across the quiet treatment room, over O'Neal's swollen toes, and finally landed on the television screen.
In Zen Master's initial plan, once this new roster got through the adjustment period, the Lakers were supposed to sweep the entire Western Conference with even greater speed. But this year, they have encountered tremendous resistance in every round.
Last week's seven-game second-round battle against the Sacramento Kings, plus the current quagmire of the Western Conference Finals that he can't seem to escape, have resulted in a total of twelve high-intensity games.
Jackson took a sip of his bitter coffee, walked back to his private office, and closed the door.
On the desk lay a statistical table of the first five games of the Western Conference Finals, along with a brand-new Boston Celtics scouting report.
Jackson pulled out a chair and sat down, his gaze sweeping over the Dallas Mavericks' starting lineup, who were locked in a fierce battle with them: point guard Steve Nash, shooting guard Michael Finley, small forward Derrick Ceballos, and power forward Dirk Nowitzki. At center was Dikembe Mutombo.
Jackson turned to the next page, which showed the Sacramento Kings ' starting five who had pushed the Lakers to a Game 7 in the semifinals: point guard Mike Bibby, small forward Rashard Lewis, power forward Chris Webber, center Vlade Divac, and the defensive stalwart who completely shut down the Lakers ' perimeter defense— Eddie Jones.
Looking at these names, Jackson's fingers tightened slightly as he held the paper, pressing a crease into the edge.
In the past twelve games, these two lineups have been like two nightmares tailor-made for the Lakers' new system.
The Lakers tried to use Kidd, Marion, and Odom to speed up the game, but the Kings used Bibby and Eddie Jones ' excellent transition defense to cut off Kidd's fast break routes, forcing the Lakers into half-court sets time and time again.
The Lakers wanted to utilize Odom and Marion's athleticism, but the Mavericks ' Nowitzki and the Sacramento Kings ' Lewis used their height advantage and long-range firepower to relentlessly punish the Lakers ' frontcourt from beyond the three-point line, even forcing O'Neal to endlessly rush to the perimeter to delay the game.
In the crucial low post, what truly drained O'Neal's energy was the opponent's extremely targeted roster depth. If it were just one or two top-tier defensive centers, O'Neal's dominance would still allow him to overpower them.
But this year, the Sacramento Kings and Mavericks have clearly taken Boston's strategy of sieging the Lakers in last year's NBA Finals to the extreme, and they have both amassed a large enough group of blue-collar frontcourt players.
O'Neal was forced to endure a grueling seven-game battle in the half-court, first being relentlessly battling Divac and Scott Pollard, and then being dragged into the paint by Mutombo's interior meat grinder, engaging in a suffocating, relentless physical battle in every game.
Jackson was well aware of the league's trade trends. Mutombo was acquired by Dallas from Boston last summer through a trade. And the multiple trades involving the Kings ' Eddie Jones and Rashard Lewis, and even Mike Bibby, were also heavily influenced by the Boston management's behind-the-scenes maneuvering.
Not only did someone demonstrate how to deal with O'Neal in last year's NBA Finals, but they also immediately planted this "solution" and "tools" on the Lakers ' path to victory the moment the Lakers established their new core framework. These subtle changes precisely depleted the Lakers' new roster's energy reserves before the NBA Finals even began.
Jackson looked up at the NBA map of the United States hanging on the office wall.
This was no accident; it was a long-planned strategic encirclement that spanned the entire summer.
He looked away and his gaze fell on the Boston scouting report on the table.
On May 31, the Eastern Conference Finals in Boston concluded, and the team will have nearly a week of rest.
The Lakers, meanwhile, will fly to Dallas tomorrow (June 1st) for Game 6. If the series goes to a Game 7, they could battle until June 3rd.
Jackson put down his coffee cup, the bottom of which made a dull thud on the wooden table.
He picked up the red tactical pen on the table and heavily circled the printed name "President of Basketball Operations: Lin Qi " on the title page of the scouting report.