The third game of the NBA Finals has begun.
Three minutes into the first quarter, the score was a pitiful 4-2.
But amidst this suffocating, high-pressure defense, Lakers head coach Phil Jackson sat on the bench, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper. He keenly sensed something amiss on Boston's offense.
Something's wrong with Chris Paul Pierce.
Today, it was as if this Boston star player had completely locked away his offensive desires and pride, along with his jacket, in the locker room.
On offense, Pierce relinquished almost all ball possession.
He seemed to have transformed into a robust and tough blue-collar worker, doing everything from screens and defense to rebounding.
In the seventh minute of the first quarter, a pivotal moment occurred. Artest anticipated Kidd's pass to Jordan, deflecting the ball and sending it heading straight for the sideline.
Lakers Sean Marion, relying on his explosive power, immediately accelerated, trying to use his speed to break through and save the ball.
But at the same second that Marion started moving, Pierce pounced even earlier.
Marion was running, while Pierce simply threw himself out like a bowling ball. Facing the ball about to go out of bounds and the scorer's table just inches away, Pierce didn't bother to make any protective moves and leaped into the air right inside the sideline.
Just as his body was about to fly completely out of bounds, he stretched out his right arm in mid-air and hooked the ball with one hand before Marion could reach him. Then, relying entirely on his core strength, Pierce twisted his upper body in mid-air while off-balance and swung the ball back onto the court!
The moment the ball left his hands, Pierce, propelled by immense momentum, crashed into the group of photographers next to the scorer's table.
"Bang!"
Two metal folding chairs were smashed to the ground, and several expensive telephoto lenses crashed to the floor with a piercing crack. Pierce's chin slammed hard against the corner of a broadcast monitor.
The New Garden erupted in a thunderous roar. Pierce's blind pass, which he tossed back into the court mid-air, landed perfectly in the hands of the sprinting Billups. Billups sprinted with the ball, took a one-on-one opportunity in the frontcourt, and easily scored with a layup.
The referee didn't blow the whistle to stop the game, and it continued.
Amidst the chaotic scene, Pierce rummaged through the scattered cables, shoved aside the team medic who tried to approach him to inquire about the situation, and pushed himself up from the floor.
His lower lip was cut open, and blood stained his teeth. Pierce casually wiped it with the back of his hand, swallowed the strong taste of blood in his mouth, and turned to run back to the backcourt. As he passed Jordan, who was retreating on defense, he even deliberately bumped into Jordan's shoulder before silently returning to his defensive position.
Jordan's shoulder swayed from the impact, and his gaze changed completely as he looked at the Celtics leader in front of him, whose mouth was full of blood and who was fighting like a madman.
In the second quarter, Pierce's "blue-collar" approach intensified.
Billups controlled the ball at the top of the key. Wade made a run from the bottom corner, attempting to cut into the penalty area.
Fisher, who was guarding Wade, was close behind. Just as Fisher was about to squeeze across the free-throw line, Pierce suddenly blocked his path.
"Bang!"
Fisher collided solidly with Pierce in the chest, staggering and seeing stars. Pierce's feet were rooted to the ground, his hands protecting his groin, a very solid screen. At the moment of contact, he even used a subtle, old-school bully-like shoulder thrust to push Fisher out of his defensive position.
Using Pierce's solid screen, Wade shook off the defender and strode into the paint.
At this moment, Kidd, who should have been helping defend Wade, was instead stuck in the weak-side corner by Pierce. Kidd didn't dare leave Pierce open to help defend inside. Even though Pierce had been terrible in the first two games, he was still Chris Paul Pierce.
It was that fleeting moment of distraction that allowed Wade to easily pull up and shoot a floater over O'Neal's outstretched arms, which he couldn't catch in time.
The crowd erupted. Rick Carlisle clapped enthusiastically from the sidelines.
It wasn't just about screens and grabbing loose balls. In the latter part of the second quarter, Boston went through a scoring drought. The Lakers tried to push the defense and fast break, Kidd grabbed a defensive rebound and immediately shifted into gear and sped up.
Everyone in the arena thought Pierce would quickly retreat and get into position on defense, but he did the opposite. Facing Kidd sprinting at full speed, Pierce charged straight at him. Just a step above the free-throw line, he abruptly stopped, planted his feet firmly, and used his broad chest to solidly withstand Kidd's full-speed charge.
Pierce fell flat on his back onto the floor and slid a long way.
"Drop!!!"
The referee's whistle was absolutely firm: Offensive foul!
The fans at the New Garden went absolutely wild. Several longtime Boston fans in the front row even stood on their chairs and roared. Artest and Big Ben rushed over immediately, each grabbing one of Pierce's hands and yanking him up from the floor. Pierce pounded his chest and swore a vulgar Boston slang at a frustrated Kidd.
It wasn't until the last two minutes of the second quarter that Pierce finally asked for the ball. He moved to the left low post.
Kidd immediately lowered his center of gravity, using his thighs and chest to brace against Pierce's back. Jordan, sensing the danger at the top of the court, decisively released his defender and quickly collapsed from the wing, preparing to form a fierce double-team with Kidd.
If it were any star player eager to prove themselves, they would definitely choose to face a double team from two legendary defenders, forcefully turn around and pull up for a jump shot, to demonstrate their toughness.
But Pierce remained calm.
Just as Jordan double-teamed him, his four arms about to close in, Pierce caught a glimpse of the huge gap left on the perimeter after Jordan left. With a flick of his wrist, he delivered a powerful bounce pass, cleverly weaving it through the gap between Jordan and Kidd's heels.
Ron Artest receives the ball at the top of the key. There's no one within three meters of him.
Artest took a deep breath, jumped easily, and launched a three-pointer.
"Whoosh!"
The basketball swished through the net, igniting a furious comeback in Boston.
Throughout the first half, Pierce was like a temporary worker on a minimum salary, always ready to Bullets for the team, grappling and battling with the Lakers players in the mud. He constantly set screens for Garnett and Wade, physically fought in the low post to draw double teams and then assist his teammates, and fought for every long rebound that might fly out of bounds.
At halftime, the big screen displayed Pierce's individual statistics for the first half.
These statistics are simply appalling, completely unlike the performance expected of a core player: 4 shots, only 1 made, scoring a mere 2 points.
But next to that meager 2 points, a long string of numbers stood out starkly: 7 rebounds (4 of which were hard-fought offensive rebounds), 6 assists, 2 offensive fouls drawn, and 2 incredible diving saves.
Boston's offense came alive thanks to his sacrifice.
At halftime, the Boston Celtics maintained firm control of their home court, leading 45-38, and went into the locker room with a 7-point advantage.
As he walked toward the players' tunnel, Pierce was at the back of the group. His jersey was completely soaked with sweat, his lower lip was swollen, and the wound that the team doctor had just given him on the sidelines was still oozing blood.
But he looked up at the lead on the scoreboard and a satisfied smile appeared on his lips.