At night, all the spotlights on the dome of the New Garden are lit up.
The moment the referee tossed the basketball up from center court, the roar of the Boston fans seemed to threaten to lift the roof off the arena.
Shaquille O'Neal O'Neal let out a terrifying roar, his massive body leaping into the air. Ben Wallace jumped with all his might, but faced with the enormous weight and height difference, he was still at a disadvantage.
O'Neal shoved Big Ben Wallace aside in mid-air and flicked the ball into Jason Kidd's hands.
The competition has officially begun.
Kidd dribbled the ball forward. Facing Gary Payton's aggressive defense, he glanced directly at the left corner.
Sean Marion immediately drew the defender away, and Charles Barkley his broad back to trap Garnett behind him. The entire left low post was instantly cleared out.
Raja Bell, who replaced the starter, was crouching with his hands crossed over his chest. Standing in front of him, vying for position, was Michael Jordan.
Kidd's pass was as precise as a scalpel, bypassing Gary Payton's fingertips and landing steadily in Jordan's hands.
Jordan caught the ball with one hand, his back to the basket. Bell gritted his teeth, desperately lowering his center of gravity, pressing his entire weight onto Jordan's back, trying to push him away. But he felt like he was pushing against a wall.
Jordan felt the resistance behind him and leaned back slightly.
Bang.
In a simple confrontation, Bell's defensive focus shifted, and a dull pain in his chest made him involuntarily take a half-step back. In that half-step space, Jordan turned to the right and jumped. His body folded and leaned back in the air, and his hang time was still as elegant as a textbook.
Bell lunged forward desperately to block the shot, but his fingertips were still a significant distance from the basketball.
"Whoosh."
The basketball went through the net cleanly.
From receiving the ball to releasing it, the entire process was quite brief. Jordan scored the first basket in the simplest way possible. Artest, dressed in a suit on the sidelines, cursed under his breath.
The Celtics players showed no signs of frustration.
The moment the basketball pierced the net and landed, Rick Carlisle initiated his fast break.
Big Ben stepped out of bounds, grabbed the basketball, and without hesitation, launched a powerful long pass directly to midcourt.
Gary Payton received the ball and immediately pushed the pace to its limit. Kevin Garnett and Chris Paul Pierce lined up on either side, sprinting like madmen towards the Lakers ' half of the court.
At that moment, O'Neal had only just turned around, his massive frame still near the free-throw line.
The situation in the attacking third suddenly became one of numerical superiority.
Kidd and Marion desperately retreated to defend the paint. Gary Payton didn't even try to drive in; he stopped abruptly a step beyond the three-point line and cleanly tossed the ball to Pierce in the right corner.
Pierce receives the ball, with a wide-open shot in front of him. He pulls up and shoots!
Phil Jackson, sitting on the visiting team's bench, suddenly frowned.
"Bang, swish!"
The basketball bounced off the inside of the rim and went into the net.
"Get back on defense! Run!" Gary Payton didn't celebrate; he ran backwards while yelling at his teammates.
Jordan looked at the numbers flashing on the scoreboard above his head, then glanced at the Boston team who had all retreated to their own half. A hint of seriousness finally appeared on his usually indifferent face.
What followed was one of the most bizarre half-court offensive and defensive plays in league history at the New Garden.
The Los Angeles Lakers displayed overwhelming talent in half-court sets.
O'Neal was virtually unstoppable in the paint. Ben Wallace tried his best to contest, to hold his own, and to foul, but was still repeatedly knocked to the ground by the behemoth, ball and all. On the perimeter, Bell, despite his best efforts on defense, was tricked by Jordan's fakes and punished with mid-range jumpers.
Surprisingly, the score remained close throughout.
Rick Carlisle showed the Lakers Boston's most terrifying weapon: a bottomless bench.
Rick Carlisle began employing a high-frequency rotation system.
When Big Ben Wallace's chest heaved violently from being bumped by O'Neal in the paint, Rick Carlisle immediately substituted Rasheed Wallace. This aggressive big man continued to wear down O'Neal on the defensive end and on the offensive end, he stretched the floor to the three-point line, forcing O'Neal to drag his heavy steps to the perimeter to defend.
When the Lakers began their first rotation and several veterans stepped onto the court, the Boston Celtics entered their most frenzied phase.
Rick Carlisle waved his hand, and Andrei Kirilenko and Gerald Wallace leaped into the air, followed closely by Wang Zhizhi onto the court.
This group of incredibly athletic forwards thrived on the free and chaotic pitch.
Wang Zhizhi orchestrated the offense from the perimeter, occasionally launching long-range shots to completely draw the Lakers ' interior defense away from the paint. Kirilenko and Gerald Wallace, once they secured a rebound, didn't even need a point guard to assist them; they would dribble and sprint up the court themselves.
Run! Run! Run!
All tactics were simplified to local advantages gained from shuttle runs and fast breaks.
The last part of the second section.
Jordan, positioned in the corner of the court, despite Kirilenko's close-range defense as he switched in, still managed to forcefully sink the shot.
After landing, Jordan rested his hands on his knees and took a deep breath. His stamina was rapidly depleting under the relentless onslaught of the opposing forwards. His forehead was covered in sweat, and his breathing became heavy and labored.
O'Neal's situation was even more dire.
This behemoth endured a series of torments over a long period. Just when they had taken down Big Ben, Rasheed Wallace stepped up; after finally establishing position in the paint, Wang Zhizhi retreated directly to the three-point line during a transition offense.
O'Neal stood with his hands on his hips at center court, sweat streaming down his bald head, his purple and gold jersey completely soaked. He looked at Gerald Wallace, who had just completed a fast break across the court, his eyes filled with deep exhaustion.
Artest and Jackson, sitting on the sidelines, already had slightly red eyes.
They were dressed in clean, tidy suits, watching Big Ben get knocked down again and again and get back up to serve the baseline, watching Raja Bell desperately rush back to contest even after being faked out of bounds. Their teammates, who usually sweated together on the training field, were using their exhausting running to shoulder the defensive pressure that was originally theirs.
That suffocating feeling of helplessness was an indescribable torment for the two troublesome forwards.
"Beep..."
The whistle finally blew to signal halftime.
The scoreboard showed a score of 68 to 67.
The Boston Celtics, through relentless rotations, a barrage of long-range shots, and an all-out fast break, managed to maintain a slim lead at halftime.
As the players walked toward the tunnel, the entire stadium spontaneously rose to their feet and erupted in thunderous applause.
Big Ben took the towel handed to him by a staff member, covered his eyebrow bone where O'Neal's elbow had scraped it, and walked silently towards the locker room. Raja Bell, meanwhile, stretched his slightly cramped calf on the bench floor.
In the VIP box on the top floor of the arena, Lin Qi watched the Lakers ' veterans leave the court, their backs heavy and unsteady, and a malicious smile finally appeared on his lips.
"The old farmer's gun barrel is so hot it's about to explode."
"In the second half, it's the rabbit's turn to bite."