Fifteen minutes later, the second half of the game began.
The Lakers quickly sensed the dramatic shift in Boston's tactical approach.
In the first possession of the third quarter, O'Neal overpowered Big Ben in the low post. The ball bounced off the rim, and Garnett grabbed the rebound.
In the first half, Garnett would have passed the ball to Billups, and the whole team would have slowly moved into position across the halfway line. But this time, as soon as Garnett's feet touched the ground, without even looking, he launched a long pass and pushed the ball forward.
Billups received the ball and pushed it forward, Dwyane Wade had already sprinted down the wing like lightning.
At that moment, O'Neal had just turned around, his massive frame barely crossing the free-throw line. The Lakers ' half-court defense hadn't even had time to establish a defensive formation, Wade accelerated straight into the empty paint, easily scoring a layup.
48 to 48.
Lakers ' offensive possession. Kidd dribbles the ball past half-court, habitually looking to the right low post, preparing to pass the ball to Jordan.
But this time, he failed to pass the ball immediately.
Artest completely abandoned his usual defensive positioning. He went directly in front of Jordan, blocking the passing lane between Jordan and Kidd.
Jordan frowned, and he tried to use his back to push Artest away.
To receive the ball, Jordan had to abandon his most comfortable sweet spot at the free-throw line and turn around to run two steps towards the three-point line.
Kidd's pass finally arrived, but by then, a full eight seconds of the shot clock had been used up. Moreover, Jordan's receiving position had been forced to be more than twenty feet away from the basket.
Artest immediately pressed close, placing all his weight on Jordan and using his chest and knees to squeeze Jordan's lower body.
Every time Jordan dribbled the ball, he had to expend enormous core strength to maintain his balance. Under such uncomfortable pressure, Jordan was forced to turn around and shoot earlier.
Because his receiving position was pushed further away, and his lower body was weakened, Jordan's jumping height was visibly reduced.
Clang.
The basketball bounced off the front edge of the rim.
Boston secured the rebound again.
"Run!" Rick Carlisle yelled from the sidelines.
Without a moment's hesitation, Boston's players surged toward the Lakers' half of the court like a tidal wave. O'Neal, dragging his 300-plus-pound frame, was exhausted from the transitions between offense and defense. He had just reached his own three-point line, panting heavily, when Boston's fast break saw Billups hit a three-pointer from the top of the arc.
Throughout the third quarter, in the half-court, Artest was like a persistent leech, relentlessly harassing Jordan when he was off the ball and putting up extreme physical challenges when he had the ball, forcing Jordan to take difficult shots from a position far from the basket while expending a great deal of energy.
In transition, the Boston team sped up the pace. Wade's explosiveness and Garnett's mobility were fully unleashed. O'Neal simply couldn't get into position in time to build that impenetrable interior defensive wall.
Phil Jackson called two timeouts from the sidelines, attempting to stabilize the pace by making substitutions. However, the physical advantage of Boston's young players was fully demonstrated at this stage.
There was one minute left in the third quarter.
Jordan received the pass with difficulty in the corner of the court. Artest was covered in sweat, his chest heaving, but his defensive stance remained relentless.
Jordan took a deep breath, made two consecutive crossovers, and forced a jump back.
The ball flew through the air, slammed heavily against the rim, and went wide of the baseline.
After landing, Jordan didn't immediately return to defense. He bent over, hands on his knees, chest heaving violently. Sweat dripped from his chin onto the floor. The number 23, who had been like a god in the first game and the first half, finally showed the signs of fatigue of a 39-year-old veteran.
After three quarters, Boston, relying on a near-frenzied fast break and relentless, attrition-inducing defense, went on a 31-19 run in the quarter.
Boston led 77-67, pushing the Lakers to the brink of elimination.
During the break at Staples Center, the shouts of the home fans carried a hint of barely concealed anxiety.
The atmosphere in front of the Lakers ' bench was so oppressive it could be wrung out. Michael Jordan sat in a chair with his legs spread apart, a towel soaked in ice water covering his head. Shaquille O'Neal O'Neal next to him was panting heavily, sweat pooling on the floor from his massive frame.
A ten-point difference, especially with the fourth quarter's fatigue warning flashing, felt like an insurmountable Mountain.
Phil Jackson stood in front of the whiteboard, looking at the exhausted starters.
"Foul." Jackson's voice remained calm amidst the noise. "At the start of the fourth quarter, whenever Boston grabs a defensive rebound and tries to push the fast break, foul Ben Wallace immediately."
Using fouling tactics to send Big Ben to the free-throw line not only allows them to capitalize on his poor free-throw percentage to close the gap, but more importantly, every time the clock stops and every free throw is taken, it gives Jordan and O'Neal a few dozen seconds to stand and catch their breath on the court.
The whistle blew for the fourth quarter.
In Boston's first defensive possession, Garnett successfully disrupted Odom's layup attempt, and Big Ben grabbed the rebound under the basket.
Wade and Billups sprinted towards the frontcourt like two arrows released from a bow, trying to replicate the counterattack storm of the third quarter. But just as Big Ben Wallace was about to pass the ball, Derrick Fisher pounced on him and grabbed him tightly Big Ben waist.
"Beep!!!"
The referee blew the whistle. Since the foul count hadn't reached the limit, it was just a regular early foul for the Lakers.
The same scene repeated itself over the next three minutes.
Whenever Boston secured a defensive rebound, the Lakers player closest to Big Ben would immediately pounce and foul him. The game was fragmented, filled with the shrill whistles of the referees and the boos of the fans.
Big Ben Big Ben up to the free-throw line. During the regular season, his free-throw percentage had actually reached close to 69%.
But Phil Jackson's eye was sharp. After battling the 300-pound O'Neal in the paint for three whole quarters without any help defense, Big Ben's thick arms must have felt like lead by now, having long since lost all muscle memory.
As the Zen Master predicted, things turned out exactly as he had expected.
Clang.
Clang.
Four consecutive free throws missed. Big Ben painfully shook his stiff arm, his face full of frustration. Even a simple movement like raising his wrist above his head now caused him excruciating pain in his left shoulder. Artest, standing beyond the three-point line, watched Big Ben's unnaturally drooping shoulder and clenched his teeth.
The Lakers took advantage of the situation to slowly chip away at the score using half-court offense. Meanwhile, Jordan and O'Neal, taking advantage of the timeout during Big Ben Wallace's free throws, rested their hands on their knees and greedily recovered their energy.
The point difference was quickly narrowed.
There are four minutes left in the game.
Although the Lakers ' physical condition had recovered to some extent, Jordan's pace had ultimately slowed down.
On the right high post, Jordan once again faced Artest's defense. After three and a half quarters of relentless pressure, Artest seemed oblivious to the pain. He pressed his chest tightly against Jordan, constantly using his knees to disrupt Jordan's lower body power.
Jordan dribbled, trying to use his back to create space, but he found that his core strength was no longer as easy as it had been in the first half to shake the burly young man in front of him. He barely managed to turn over and jump, but with Artest's long arms almost blocking his face, the basketball hit the side of the rim.
Garnett held onto the rebound tightly.
Boston's half-court offense. Wade has the ball at the top of the key, facing Fisher, and he calls for Garnett's screen again.
Just like in the previous quarter, Marion quickly moved up to delay the play. But this time, Wade didn't choose to pass the ball. He lowered his center of gravity and used a crossover dribble to squeeze through the gap between Marion and Fisher.
Having broken through the first line of defense, Wade faced off against O'Neal was guarding the edge of the Crash area.
The fans at Staples Center instinctively held their breath. O'Neal slightly bent his knees, raised his arms, and prepared to receive the rookie's impact.
But Wade, slightly to the left of the free-throw line, slammed on the brakes.
The shoes rubbed violently against the wooden floor, and Wade's body leaned slightly forward due to inertia. However, he relied on his powerful core strength to forcefully stop his steps and leap into the air. O'Neal's massive frame remained two meters away, and he could only watch helplessly as Wade calmly completed a jump shot from mid-range with no one guarding him.
"Whoosh."
87 to 80.
Boston struggled to maintain a 7-point lead.
With the game seemingly tilting in Boston's favor, Phil Jackson substituted the exhausted Fisher with Quentin Richardson.
In this suffocating moment when even the core players dared not take a shot easily, this young man, who wasn't even considered a key target in the Boston scouting report, became the unexpected hero who completely changed the course of the game.
The Lakers were on offense. Jordan received the ball on the wing, and Artest and Garnett's defensive attention instantly shrank. Jordan keenly spotted the open space in the corner and made a pass without hesitation.
Quentin Richardson received the ball and, without the slightest stage fright typical of young players on the NBA Finals stage, pulled up for a shot over Billups who came over to help defend.
"Swish." A three-pointer hits. 87 to 83.
Just one possession later, Boston's offense failed. The Lakers launched a fast break, Odom passed the ball to Richardson, who was following up. Richardson, with a step above the three-point line at the top of the arc, launched an audacious pull-up three-pointer.
"Whoosh!"
87 to 86!
The roar at Staples Center nearly lifted the dome. Richardson's two cold-blooded, unpredictable three-pointers were like two heavy punches, shattering Boston's psychological advantage that had been built up for an entire quarter. The point difference was instantly wiped out.
In the final two minutes, the game became a contest of wills.
Despite being severely exhausted, Jordan still managed to get into position at the free-throw line. Facing Artest's relentless physical challenge, Jordan executed a difficult fadeaway jumper off the backboard and made the shot, bringing the score close and eventually giving Artest the lead.
87 to 88.
Turning back, Wade tried to punish his opponent again with a pull-up jumper. But this time, Sean Marion wasn't completely caught by the screen. He lunged at Wade from the wing with all his might, his extremely long wingspan completely blocking Wade's shooting space.
Clang.
The basketball hit the side of the rim.
Ben Big Ben, already exhausted from playing so hard, let out a hoarse roar as he tried to box out O'Neal and grab the crucial offensive rebound. But faced with the overwhelming size difference and his own exhaustion, O'Neal ruthlessly pushed Big Ben aside and secured the rebound with both hands.
With ten seconds left in the game and trailing by one point, Boston had no choice but to commit a tactical foul.
Kidd and Jordan then calmly made their free throws, sealing the game's fate.
When the buzzer sounded to signal the end of the game, the score was 94-90.
The Los Angeles Lakers, relying on the explosive performance of their unexpected players and the depth of their superstars, completed a hard-fought comeback at home, winning Game 2 of the NBA Finals and taking a 2-0 lead in the series.
Big Ben let out a long sigh, ripped off his wristband, and headed toward the locker room tunnel. Artest followed behind him. Although they had lost the game, seeing Jordan's dismal shooting percentage in the second half on the big screen, a fiercer glint burned in his eyes.