Mid-February, Philadelphia, First Union Center.
In the Eastern All-Stars locker room, Allen Iverson sat in front of the central locker, slowly adjusting the long arm brace on his left arm. This was his territory, Philadelphia's home court.
Chris Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett sat in the corner. Ben Wallace had just taken off his newly made oversized suit in Boston, put on his All-Star jersey, and was carefully hanging his suit jacket in the closet.
Rick Carlisle walked in carrying a tactical board.
"Just play casually." Rick Carlisle tucked the clipboard under his arm. "The starters will play six minutes in the first quarter. In the second half, whoever wants to stay on the court, just tell me."
Kobe Brian sat across from Iverson. He was wearing a red Chicago Bulls All-Star jersey, lacing his shoes tightly, and then looked up.
"I want to win," Kobe said.
Rick Carlisle looked at him. Everyone in the locker room looked over too.
" Michael and Shaq are on the Western Conference side." Kobe stood up, tucking his jersey into his shorts, his eyes flashing with a fierce intensity that Craig Sager. "I came to Philadelphia to beat them."
The locker room was silent for a few seconds. Everyone knows the unspoken rules of exhibition games...
He was giving face to the veteran and the host country. But Kobe clearly didn't want to give face to anyone.
Iverson pulled the protective gear up to his wrist, stood up, walked over, and patted Kobe on the back.
"Give me the ball." Iverson looked at his arch-rival from the same draft class. "We can win."
Outside the players' tunnel, the announcer drawled out Ben Wallace's name. Big Ben ran out of the tunnel, and countless hands reached out from the Philadelphia fans on both sides. Big Ben didn't high-five; he ran straight onto the court expressionlessly.
Jump ball at center circle.
Shaquille O'Neal O'Neal's massive frame stood opposite Big Ben. O'Neal glanced down, a habitual nonchalant smirk playing on his lips. Big Ben stared straight ahead, crouching down, his muscles taut.
The referee tossed the ball. O'Neal, taking advantage of his height and wingspan, easily passed the ball to Jason Kidd.
The first offensive play of the Western All-Stars saw everyone perfectly spacing the floor. Kidd passed the ball to the right 45-degree angle, where Michael Jordan, wearing a Lakers jersey, caught it with one hand, eliciting a deafening roar from the more than 20,000 Philadelphia fans in attendance.
Everyone thought this would be a symbolic defensive round.
But Kobe stuck it on.
He lowered his center of gravity extremely, his right forearm rigidly positioned across Jordan's waist, while his left hand constantly interfered with Jordan's passing lanes.
Jordan glanced at him. His bloodshot eyes narrowed slightly. Jordan turned his back, leaned in twice, and then flipped over for a fadeaway jump shot.
The ball was too short and hit the front edge of the rim.
Big Ben blocked O'Neal's lower body, and Garnett leaped high to grab the rebound.
Garnett dribbled the ball across half-court and passed it to Iverson. Iverson made a crossover dribble to drive inside, drawing the defense of Kidd and Webber, and then passed the ball to Kobe was following up on the right side.
Kobe catches the ball, jumps, glides through the air, and slams it into the basket with both hands!
The next half of the game took an extremely bizarre turn.
The Western Conference stars were intentionally or unintentionally feeding the ball to Jordan, and the Eastern Conference players were also very tactful in not double-teaming him, giving the God of Basketball plenty of space to perform. Only Kobe was like he was playing Game 7 of the NBA Finals.
Whenever Jordan had the ball, Kobe would relentlessly guard him. Whenever he had the ball, Kobe would relentlessly attack the Western Conference.
Garnett and Pierce stood outside the three-point line, not even bothering with a screen. Pierce received a pass on the left side, glanced at Chris Webber who was guarding him, and Webber was a good two meters away. Pierce didn't even look at the basket, and directly passed the ball back to Kobe, who had made a run to an open position after the screen.
Kobe receives the ball, pulls up for a three-pointer, and it goes in cleanly.
Six minutes into the first quarter, Rick Carlisle called a timeout.
He substituted Pierce and Big Ben for Anthony Kemba Walker from the Heat and Jermaine O'Neal from the Magic.
Big Ben walked to the bench, caught the towel the trainer threw to him, wiped his sweat, and sat down heavily. Pierce sat down next to him, asked for an ice pack, and put it on his slightly sore right ankle.
"That was a wide-open shot," Big Ben said, looking at Pierce.
"I don't want to sweat." Pierce leaned back lazily in his chair, pointing at Kobe on the court. "Let that kid shoot. He's got plenty of strength today. I could tell he's going to be tough on Michael."
One minute later, Garnett was also substituted. Gary Payton took off his warm-up suit and went onto the court.
Garnett sat back down on the bench. He raised his hand and bumped fists with Pierce.
" Michael didn't exert himself much today," Garnett said, watching the game. "He's getting old."
The moment the words were spoken, the situation on the field changed dramatically.
Jordan made a steal in the backcourt and then surged towards the Eastern Conference basket. The entire arena rose to their feet, ready to witness that iconic flight. Jordan caught the ball with one hand and jumped... but time had finally left its mark on his knees. He didn't jump high enough, the basketball slipped from his grasp, slammed heavily against the back of the rim, and flew out.
A huge sigh of regret rang out from the First United Center.
Kobe grabbed the long rebound, dribbled wildly to the frontcourt, and, over Jordan was retreating on defense, made a cold-blooded stop-and-go three-pointer.
"Whoosh!"
After scoring, Kobe didn't celebrate; he just glanced at Jordan expressionlessly, then turned and retreated to defense.
That one glance finally ignited the competitive spirit deep within the sleeping old lion.
Jordan's eyes changed. In the next offensive possession, instead of waiting for the ball at the top of the key, he established position in the low post, raised his hand, and yelled at Kidd.
He received the ball, faked a move, and dropped his shoulder. Jordan used an extremely aggressive first step to squeeze past Kobe's defense, pulled up in mid-air, dodged Anthony Kemba Walker's block, and scored.
After landing, Jordan looked at Kobe, chewed his gum, and uttered a trash talk.
"This is getting interesting." Garnett sat up straight on the sidelines. " Michael's awake."
Gary Payton was guarding Kidd on the court. He was right up to Kidd's jersey, talking non-stop like a machine gun. Kidd got annoyed and turned his back to protect the ball, passing it to the other side. Gary Payton immediately turned around and complained to the referee that Kidd had dropped his shoulder, which drew laughter from the photographers on the baseline.
The game went into the fourth quarter, and the score was very close.
The entire second half became a duel between Kobe and Jordan, two generations of shooting guards.
Rick Carlisle stood on the sidelines. Kobe and Iverson were on the court. He glanced at the score and substituted Garnett, who had rested enough.
Pierce and Big Ben sat on a bench with thick towels covering their knees.
"Are you going back to Boston tomorrow?" Pierce asked.
"The flight is in the afternoon," Big Ben said.
"I'm going to Los Angeles," Pierce yawned. "The sponsors have a business event there."
On the court, Garnett received the ball on the right low post. With his back to Tim Duncan, he used two extremely realistic fakes to create space, then turned and jumped to shoot. The ball swished through the net.
Kobe quickly retreated across half-court on defense and yelled at Garnett, "Defense! Mark their man!"
Garnett raised his hand, signaling to get back on defense, quickly lowered his center of gravity, and stared sharply at Tim Duncan as he cut in.
Rick Carlisle glanced at the timer hanging in the air above the arena.
Six minutes remain in the game. The Eastern Conference leads by two points.