Mid-January, 1996.
The Chicago Bulls, with a record of 33 wins and 3 losses, arrived in Boston.
That night, FleetCenter Arena was transformed into a giant arena for America's elite. The first row of floor seats closest to the court had been resold several times on the black market, and the prices of those prime spots facing the center line had been driven to an absurd level. The premium on just one row of seats was enough to buy outright a top-of-the-line Cadillac Fleetwood, a car that every middle-class American dreamed of owning.
The wealthy and powerful figures throughout New England seemed to have received the same invitation, and they all flocked to the stadium that night.
" Lin Qi, look!"
Boss Gaston practically whispered in Lin Qi's ear, his smug, sycophantic smile impossible to hide. He nudged Lin Qi hard with his elbow, his eyes gesturing wildly towards the front row. "Sitting in the very center is that federal senator from the Kennedy family. Good heavens, he usually avoids even the mayor's dinners, but tonight he's here in person. And all those New England financial tycoons behind him, practically none of them are missing tonight."
Lin Qi turned his head, his peripheral vision sweeping over the group of middle-aged and elderly white men sitting upright in the front row, dressed in custom-made high-end suits. These important figures didn't seem to be watching a regular season brawl that could end at any moment; they looked more like they were sitting in an opera house box listening to a symphony.
Behind them were countless ordinary, die-hard fans wearing green retro jerseys, their bottles of dark beer bulging, and screaming wildly at the top of their lungs.
The scents of premium cologne and cigar smoke clashed violently with the pungent smells of alcohol and sweat in the air. The reserved arrogance of the front row and the rude fervor of the back row drew a clear class line in the same stadium.
" Lin Qi, this is an opportunity! This is absolutely the focus of attention across America tonight!" Gaston rubbed his hands together nervously, his voice low and even carrying a slight tremor like a gambler going all in, "If our bunch of young lads can..."
"Complete the slaying of the god, overturn the Chicago Bulls." Lin Qi calmly completed the second half of his sentence.
"That's right! It's Godslayer!" Gaston's eyes lit up, and his breathing became heavier.
Lin Qi twitched the corner of his mouth but didn't reply.
What this boss wanted to see was the overwhelming wealth that would follow the upset, with tickets, sponsorships, and television broadcasts pouring in.
Lin Qi coldly withdrew his gaze, leaned back in his chair, and fixed his eyes on the center circle of the Chicago Bulls' half of the court, past the noisy entrance tunnel.
Dennis Rodman, number 91 with fluorescent green hair, was standing there with his hands on his hips.
This oddball neither shot nor warmed up; he simply stared intently at the Boston Celtics ' half of the court without uttering a word. He was coldly scrutinizing the group of young Boston players in front of him, calculating which rookie he should tear off first at the start of the game.
Home team starting lineup: Sam Cassell, Eddie Jones, Willie Anderson, Dino Radja, Ervin Johnson.
Away team starting lineup: Ron Harper, Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Dennis Rodman, Luc Longley.
The referee tossed the ball high into the air, and a jump ball was about to begin. Johnson, with his superior wingspan, flicked the ball back into the backcourt, and the game officially started.
Sam Cassell received the ball without hesitation, pushing it past half-court over Harper's long arms. The Celtics ' young players had no intention of grinding out the Chicago Bulls tonight. According to Adelman's plan, they wanted to stuff a handful of sand into the gears of that heavy machine in Chicago before it could mesh.
Jones and Anderson stretched the defense frantically on the flanks, while Radja positioned himself in the left midfield position to block them.
The player guarding him wasn't the bulky Australia center Luc Longley, but Dennis Rodman.
Phil Jackson, the " Zen Master," was extremely targeted. He immediately saw that among the Boston Celtics' starters, only Radja could truly create scoring opportunities in the low post. A precise lob pass found Sam Cassell. Radja backed down Dennis Rodman, using two deceptively feinting shoulder movements. Dennis Rodman tenaciously held off Radja's lower body, but the Croatia was a rare breed among Europe centers, known for his finesse. Radja smoothly spun around, forcefully locking down the position with his left foot, and before Dennis Rodman could block, gently hooked the ball with his wrist.
The basketball bounced off the backboard and obediently fell into the basket. 2-0.
The FleetCenter Arena erupted instantly, the pent-up frustration of the past few days transforming into deafening cheers.
But the Chicago Bulls immediately retaliated. Pippen leisurely dribbled the ball across half-court, and using Luc Longley's solid screen from the high post, Jordan cut out from the right side with lightning speed. Even with Jones's best efforts, he was only half a step too slow, and Pippen's pass was already firmly in Jordan's hands.
Without any unnecessary movements, Jordan caught the ball, jumped, and launched his signature mid-range shot.
Swish.
The basketball went through the net cleanly.
The once-boiling FleetCenter was suddenly silenced, as if its throat had been grabbed. The roar of 20,000 people was abruptly swallowed back down by this shot.
On the Boston Celtics' side, Sam Cassell remained completely unfazed. Despite Harper's suffocating harassment, he simply stuck out his rear end and relentlessly chipped into the Celtics' defenses. Harper had a clear advantage in height and wingspan, but Sam Cassell's rhythm was too unpredictable. He suddenly thrust his shoulder forward, his footwork abruptly halting, before turning and shooting a jump shot that swished cleanly.
In the next possession, the Chicago Bulls tried to post up Jordan. Jones gritted his teeth and frantically tried to disrupt the play from the low post, while Anderson on the weak side also collapsed early, forcing Pippen's passing lane to deviate by an inch.
Left with no other option, Pippen had to pass to Luc Longley in the high post.
As soon as Luc Longley touched the ball, Johnson, who was guarding him, and Sam Cassell, who had collapsed back, completed a perfectly coordinated encirclement. Sam Cassell reacted quickly, swatting the ball away from Luc Longley. The basketball bounced on the floor, and Sam Cassell bent down to scoop it up, and the Celtics launched a counterattack instantly.
He didn't need to take another step; the young Jones had already torn through the Chicago Bulls ' defenses like an arrow unsheathed.
A long pass that spanned most of the court found Jones, who leaped into the air to catch the ball, stretched out his arms in mid-air, and slammed the ball into the basket with a powerful two-handed dunk!
The basketball hoop was shaking violently, and the FleetCenter had descended into utter madness.
Under the watchful eyes of America's celebrities, this group of Boston youths, predicted to be crushed, relied on their indomitable and fierce spirit to drag the Chicago into a bloody tug-of-war.
As the final whistle blew to end the first quarter, the huge scoreboard above the arena sent a collective gasp through the media.
Celtics 28: Chicago Bulls 24. Boston leads by 4 points after the first quarter.
On his way back to the bench, Chicago Bulls head coach Zen Master Jackson remained expressionless, slowly chewing gum as if none of this concerned him. Jordan pulled a towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his eyes deep and cold, revealing no emotion whatsoever.
Dennis Rodman, sitting on the bench, watched Garnett and Finley celebrating wildly not far away, and suddenly grinned.
It was a bloodthirsty, crazed smile, the kind that seemed to have finally caught the scent of trouble in the stagnant regular season.
During the break, Lin Qi surveyed the frenzied arena. Twenty thousand faces, densely packed together. His gaze, unintentionally, swept over one side of the courtside...
Two brothers were sitting there, cheering loudly for the Boston Celtics. Lin Qi recognized one of them as Donnie Wahlberg, who had left that popular boy band and was a die-hard Boston Celtics fan. The other one, with similar features and a tough-looking face, was probably his younger brother.
Lin Qi smiled.
The crowd of dignitaries and celebrities were there to pay homage to Jordan, but there were also some true Boston who genuinely hoped the Boston Celtics could give that beast a good beating.
In the second quarter, the true essence of the Celtics' contingency plan began to show its power.
Radja became a thorn in the side of the paint. He never went inside to battle Dennis Rodman, but instead frequently pulled up to the 18-foot post to receive the ball. This Croatia center's delicate long two-pointers and agile jab steps precisely targeted Luc Longley's most vulnerable spot. If Luc Longley followed him out, the paint would be instantly empty, and Jones and Finley would cut in like two sharp knives; if Luc Longley didn't follow, Radja would receive the ball and launch a precise mid-range jumper.
Swish! Swish!
Two textbook mid-range shots in a row, though not as violent as slamming the basket, were like a scalpel, forcing the Chicago Bulls ' defensive formation to painfully shift outwards.
Two minutes later, with Adelman's order, Garnett was officially substituted onto the field.
The player Garnett ran head-on into was none other than Pippen, who had returned to the court.
At that moment, the roar of the crowd in FleetCenter Arena rose a notch. A 19-year-old high school prodigy facing off against Pippen, an All-Star forward in his prime, was a provocative scene in itself.
The Chicago Bulls quickly executed a pick-and-roll on the wing, attempting to use the screen to switch Garnett to the perimeter, allowing Pippen to use his experience to overpower the rookie.
Garnett lowered his center of gravity, his long arms fully extended. Facing Pippen's tentative change of direction, his monstrous 19-year-old legs displayed terrifying lateral speed, completely blocking Pippen's cutting path. His long arms were like heavy railings that suddenly fell, completely covering all the space for a shot.
Pippen's expression shifted slightly. Instead of forcing a drive, he deftly passed the ball to the weak side just before losing his balance.
This scenario had already been rehearsed in advance during team training.
Jones, who had been lying in wait on the flank, suddenly appeared from the side and, with his terrifying leap, snatched the basketball away in mid-air!
" Kevin! Run!"
As Jones roared, Garnett had already turned and started running. His 19-year-old legs were inhumanly fast, and in a few strides he left the Chicago Bulls ' retreating defense behind. Jones delivered a precise long pass across most of the court, Garnett caught the ball with one hand, took an exaggerated stride that almost crossed the free-throw line, and glided into the air!
boom!
With a powerful slam of both hands, the entire FleetCenter was ignited by this counterattack!
Garnett landed, his chest heaving violently, and let out a wild, beast-like roar towards the Chicago Bulls ' bench.
Taking advantage of the Chicago Bulls' rotation transition period, Lin Qi and Adelman immediately changed their lineup, bringing Wesley, Person, and Murray onto the court simultaneously.
Wesley accelerated like a small cannon, and once he drove to the basket and drew the Chicago Bulls' defense, he immediately passed the ball back to the perimeter. Person caught the ball and, with a swift motion, drained a three-pointer!
In the very next possession, Murray used a screen on the weak side to cut around the defense, received the ball, and forced a shot against the defense, sinking another three-pointer!
When Sam Cassell returned to the court to control the game and slow down the pace, waiting for Radja to draw the defense and then pass the ball to the corner, Murray hit his third three-pointer from the same spot.
Swish!
A sudden barrage of three-pointers extended Boston's lead to double digits by the end of the second quarter. The entire media section erupted in excitement, reporters whispering amongst themselves. Could Boston really be about to upset the 33-win Chicago Bulls in front of all the nation's elite tonight?
At this moment, the young forward lineup assembled by Lin Qi revealed the shadow of the future of basketball. Garnett, Finley, Eddie, and Person —these young players had wingspans that were too long and lateral quick enough. Whenever the Chicago Bulls tried to create mismatches through pick-and-rolls, the Boston Celtics displayed the rudiments of an infinite switching defense. Although they were inexperienced, they were like a dense forest that suddenly grew on the court, obscuring the Chicago Bulls' familiar passing lanes and causing some stagnation in the Chicago Bulls ' Triangle Offense.
But just as the frenzy in the arena reached its peak, and 20,000 fans began to believe that the game would be an upset, Jordan made his move.
In that possession, he stopped lazily passing the ball around the top of the key. He actively reached out for the ball, lowered his waist on the right wing, and locked up tightly against the rookie Finley who had switched onto him.
Finley lowered his center of gravity, gritted his teeth, and his eyes were filled with a fierce determination to fight to the death.
Jordan didn't use any fancy dribbling. With a loud bang, he used his body, honed to the point of being like steel in the gym, to forcefully sidestep and ram into Finley. Finley instantly felt like he had crashed into a concrete wall, his chest tightened, and his feet were forced back half a step.
We can't hold on any longer! We simply can't hold on!
Before Finley could reorganize the defense, Jordan used the force of the contact to push to the side again, and at the moment he reached his most comfortable corner, he executed a beautiful turnaround fadeaway jump shot.
Swish.
The basketball swished through the net, and Finley's outstretched fingers didn't even distract Jordan in the slightest.
After landing, Jordan didn't even glance at the aggrieved Finley. Chewing gum as he walked back, he casually tossed out a remark in that hoarse, cold voice honed from his gym days. "Nice defense, rookie. Next time, stand closer."
There wasn't a trace of provocation or anger in his tone; it was as calm as stating a fact. It sent chills down your spine more than any hysterical trash talk.
In the very next possession, Jordan instantly cut to the highest position on the defensive end. Sam Cassell made a cross pass under pressure, but Jordan seemed to have read the script beforehand, flashing out from the side like lightning, his long arm reaching out to steal the ball out of thin air.
Acceleration, takeoff, and a one-arm slam dunk!
boom!
In just two possessions, Jordan scored 4 points and added a clumsy steal. Then, as if nothing had happened, he returned to his lazy, energy-saving mode, as if those two brutal offensive and defensive plays were just a matter of waking up and casually brushing dust off his shoulders.
Lin Qi stood on the sidelines, a chill suddenly running down his spine.
The halftime whistle blew.
The numbers on the giant scoreboard sent the entire FleetCenter Arena into a frenzied, unbelievable frenzy...
Celtics 54: Chicago Bulls 46.
The Boston youth team entered the locker room with an 8-point lead.
The players walked into the tunnel.
Just as Garnett was passing through midfield and heading towards the players' tunnel, a fluorescent green figure slowly and deliberately cut in from the side and ended up alongside him.
Dennis Rodman.
Throughout the first half, this Chicago Bulls rebounding the Madman was virtually invisible on offense; the Chicago Bulls didn't need him to score.
But at that moment, he suddenly leaned closer.
The two walked side by side down the corridor. Dennis Rodman didn't look at Garnett; his eyes were fixed straight ahead. But suddenly, a smile spread across his face, which was adorned with a nose ring and strange makeup.
He spoke lazily, in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"Kid, you had a lot of fun in the first half, didn't you?"
Garnett turned and glared at him.
Dennis Rodman finally turned his head, his eyes filled with a cruel, cat-and-mouse-like interest. He leaned in half an inch, his fluorescent green head almost touching Garnett's face.
"Enjoy the present," he said, "Because it'll be our turn in the second half."
After saying that, he disappeared into the darkness of the passage, leaving only his dazzling fluorescent green hair flashing in Garnett's eyes.
Garnett stood frozen in place.
He suddenly remembered the number 91 in the video, standing in the center circle, staring at his opponent like a vulture.
I'm reminded of that saying... "Never make eye contact with Number 91; he can smell fear."
Garnett's back was covered in a layer of cold sweat.
He turned his head and looked towards the sidelines...
Lin Qi stood there, gazing in the direction of the passage Chicago Bulls had disappeared, his brow furrowed.