The night before the second game.
Chicago, hotel conference room.
The lights were very white, as white as an operating room. The hissing sound of the video recorder rewinding filled the quiet room.
No one spoke. After losing by nineteen points in the first game, the young Boston Celtics players finally stopped having the burning rage they had when they first entered the United Center.
They were woken up by being beaten...
The Chicago Bulls used a more sophisticated and ruthless method to force him to realize the distance between himself and the championship.
On the screen, Adelman repeatedly rewound the recording of the first game.
Sam Cassell dribbled past half-court, Harper guarded him closely, and Pippen reached out from the wing. What should have been a simple drive was thwarted by the Chicago Bulls ' long arms, taking nearly ten seconds to complete.
The image freezes.
"In the first game, we all made a mistake," Adelman said, pointing at the screen with the remote. "We thought crossing the halfway line was Sam's job alone."
Sam Cassell sat on the bench, his face extremely grim. Usually, he would have been ready to speak up long ago, but this time he kept his mouth shut. The video didn't lie; in the first game, he was indeed suffocated by Harper and Pippen's long arms.
"The second game begins. Willie moves to the mid-court line to receive the pass, Eddie drops back to be the second passer." Adelman scribbled on the whiteboard with his marker. " Kevin, you go up to the baseline and set a short screen for Sam. Don't aim to score, just give Sam half a second to breathe."
Garnett looked up. "Half a second?"
Adelman glanced at him. "Against the Chicago Bulls, half a second is plenty of time."
The scene shifts to the second segment. Eddie Jones grabs the defensive rebound and attempts to launch his signature fast break, but Michael Jordan is already half a step ahead, ghost-like blocking his path of acceleration.
Fast breaks die in their infancy.
" Jordan wasn't chasing you with speed; he read your body language," Thibodeau said coldly. "Your first step after grabbing a rebound always goes to the right perimeter. The Cleveland Cavaliers can't catch you, but Jordan sees it clearly. Next game, you can't just rely on instinct."
"Then how do I run?"
"Get the ball, pause for a moment," Thibodeau uttered a single word. "He's betting you'll accelerate immediately, so stay still and let him make his defensive choice first. You don't need to be faster than him; you just need to make him guess wrong once."
The last video clip shows Radja receiving the ball in the low post. Dennis Rodman presses against his lower back and subtly blocks his power point with his knee, completely deforming Radja's jump and causing his shot to hit the rim, with Dennis Rodman securing the rebound.
Radja is the Celtics' most consistent contributor in the first three quarters. If even he is taken down, the Boston Celtics are essentially stripped of their mainstay.
Lin Qi sat at the back of the conference room, his fingers lightly tapping the table. Once, twice.
" Dino, don't go to the low post next game." Lin Qi raised his hand, pointing to the free-throw line on the whiteboard. "Go to the high post. If Dennis Rodman doesn't come out, just take a mid-range shot; if he does come out, the paint will be open."
Adelman then drew a circle on the whiteboard and continued, " Dino pulls out, Eddie cuts straight down, Kevin makes a short run down the court, Willie sets the second pass in the elbow area. Sam goes around to receive the ball and then scores."
A glimmer of light finally appeared in Sam Cassell's eyes. "So you mean you're not going to wrestle with that scoundrel in a low position?"
Lin Qi smiled and said, "Wrestling is Dennis Rodman's job; we don't need to compete with him for it."
Someone chuckled softly in the meeting room, and the atmosphere finally eased a little. But everyone knew that drawing it on the whiteboard was one thing, but facing those four All-Defensive First Team Lao Liumang at the United Center was another ( Ron Harper was never selected for the All-Defensive First Team, but his advanced defensive stats were consistently among the top ten in the league during the Chicago Bulls' three-peat).
Lin Qi stood up, walked to the screen, and looked at the red figure of number 23 on the screen.
"In the first round, you saw how high the mountain was. In the second round, I'm not asking you to climb over it, you'd better at least touch the hem of its coat."
The second event was held at the United Center.
The Celtics changed at the start of the game.
Sam Cassell received the ball in the backcourt, and Harper and Pippen immediately closed in. But this time, none of Sam Cassell tried to force their way in. Anderson retreated to the midcourt to receive the pass, Garnett came up from the inside, using his slender body to firmly block Harper.
It wasn't pretty, even a bit clumsy, but with that one move, Sam Cassell finally got that precious half second.
The ball was steadily dribbled across half-court. The Boston Celtics ' offensive lifeline was not immediately cut off.
Radja received the ball at the high post. Dennis Rodman stood in front of him, grinning, his eyes full of provocation. This time, the Croatia didn't bother with him in the low post at all, catching the ball and jumping for his signature soft mid-range jumper.
Swish! The basketball goes cleanly into the net.
The noise at the United Center paused for a moment. The Chicago Bulls realized that these young Boston players hadn't been stunned by the first game.
In the next possession, Jordan received the ball with his back to the basket on the right side of the post, and Eddie Jones frantically used his chest to block the primary defender. Jordan turned his shoulder, lowered his shoulder, and paused. This time, Jones landed on the floor and didn't jump prematurely.
Even Jordan raised an eyebrow slightly. Although he ultimately slammed the ball into the basket with an inhumanly backward fadeaway, Jones didn't look frustrated as he retreated on defense—this wasn't the kind of shot practice he'd seen in the previous game; the Celtics could keep up with him by half a step.
Even a half-step is progress.
The Chicago Bulls led 26-23 after the first quarter. Midway through the second quarter, Sam Cassell regained his rhythm. He used Radja screens to get around to the elbow area, Dennis Rodman didn't dare to come out, and Sam Cassell made a mid-range shot; as soon as Dennis Rodman moved up, Sam Cassell flicked his wrist and passed the ball to Garnett who was cutting to the basket.
Garnett drew Luke Luc Longley's attention in mid-air, then, without even looking, flicked the ball wide to the corner.
Wesley Person receives the ball, jumps, and sinks a three-pointer!
The Celtics trailed by only two points at halftime, with the score at 46-44.
The locker room remained silent, but this time, the Murray was no longer filled with despair and confusion, but with a fierce determination.
Sam Cassell wiped his sweat with a towel, then suddenly grinned widely. "They retreat too. I just saw it; Pippen his long arms, was a beat slow when he switched defense."
Adelman and Lin Qi exchanged a glance, neither of them interrupting him. The group of young men finally caught their breath after the suffocating feeling of winning the championship.
In the third quarter, the Chicago Bulls began to exert more effort.
There were no whirlwind fast breaks, only ruthless surgical strikes. Jordan's unstoppable low-post fadeaway, Pippen's long-range drives and passes, and Kukoč's high-post reception that drew Garnett away from the paint. Every move the Chicago Bulls made hit the Celtics' most vulnerable spots.
The point difference was almost widening, but the Celtics gritted their teeth and held on.
With two minutes remaining in the fourth quarter, the Chicago Bulls led 88-86.
Sam Cassell dribbled forward, the double-team defense of Harper and Pippen almost touching his face. Sam Cassell slowly dribbled the ball, using Radja's screen to move laterally, and used his shoulder to force his way past Harper into the mid-range. Dennis Rodman hesitated for half a second in the paint.
In that split second, Sam Cassell leaped into the air and coldly launched a mid-range shot.
Swish! 88-88! The roar of the United Center was abruptly shattered by this single shot!
In the next possession, the Chicago Bulls didn't call a timeout, and the ball fell back to the right side of the court. Everyone knew Jordan was going to shoot.
Jones was glued to the spot, Garnett moved half a step to the side from the weak side, and even Radja moved back into the paint. The Celtics' strongest defensive resources were all swarming in.
Jordan bumped into Garnett twice with his back to the ball, then suddenly did a reverse spin with a reverse joint. Garnett was already up in the air, his huge black hand about to cover the basketball. But Jordan's body tilted backward at an incredible angle in the air, and only after Garnett's body had slipped past him did he gently flick the ball away with his wrist.
Swish. 90 to 88.
Lin Qi sat on the sidelines, his fingers clasped on his knees. His defense was solid, his help defense was solid, his choices were all correct, yet the ball still went in.
This is the Lao Liumang on the mountaintop.
With 34 seconds left, Adelman called a timeout.
"Don't rush, Sam Cassell has the ball, Radja sets a high screen, Person is lurking in the corner." Adelman quickly drew on the whiteboard. "Let them move first, find space!"
After the timeout, Sam Cassell used a screen to move to the right at the top of the key, and the Chicago Bulls' defense frantically collapsed towards the paint. In the split second that the defense was closing in, Sam Cassell flicked his wrist, and the basketball flew precisely through the gap in the defense to the corner.
Wesley Person is completely empty.
He caught the ball, jumped, and shot. The entire Celtics bench stood up, and Lin Qi instinctively held his breath.
The basketball traced a high arc.
Bang! The ball hit the front rim. It bounced high, then hit the back rim, and finally slid out amidst the gasps of the 20,000 spectators.
Dennis Rodman emerged from the crowd like a ghost, grabbing the backboard with both hands. Garnett lunged for a foul, Dennis Rodman made one of two free throws.
91-88. With only three seconds left, Sam Cassell received the ball in the backcourt and sprinted forward, forcing a shot from beyond the three-point line despite the defense. The ball bounced off the backboard and flew away.
The final buzzer sounded. The Chicago Bulls led 91-88, taking a 2-0 lead in the series.
The cheers from the United Center were deafening. But this time, the young Celtics did not bow their heads.
Sweat dripped down Garnett's chin, Jones rested his hands on his knees, staring at the spot where Jordan had leaned back, and Sam Cassell crumpled the hem of his jersey into a ball.
They lost this game, but they finally got close to the Chicago Bulls. And it was precisely because they got close that they understood just how crucial those final two points were.
In the away game's locker room, Adelman leaned his tactical board against the wall and remained silent for a long time.
Lin Qi was the first to stand up, looking at the group of exhausted young people.
"In the first round, you didn't know how you died. In this round, you do." Lin Qi's voice was low, yet it carried a chilling sternness that sent shivers down your spine. "Now that you know, there's a fight ahead."
Sam Cassell clenched his fists, his eyes bloodshot, and growled through gritted teeth, "So close... so damn close!"
Lin Qi walked up to him and nodded. "Yes, just two points short. But in the playoffs, a tiny difference can mean everything."
No one disagreed. Because Jordan's incredible fadeaway jumper was still fresh in everyone's minds, and because Person's three-pointer that bounced off the rim was like a thorn stuck in everyone's throat.
Lin Qi reached out and pushed open the locker room door, the cold corridor lights of the United Center shining on his shoulders.
"Stop playing dead. Go back to Boston." Lin Qi turned around, leaving behind his last words, "Go and take those two points back, for me."
The wind was cold in Chicago that night.
The Celtics ' team bus slowly drove away from the United Center. Outside the window, Chicago fans cheered, but inside, there was a deathly silence.
But this silence was completely different from the first one. These thugs, fresh out of the Cleveland quagmire, weren't stunned; they were holding a grudge.
Remember those two points, remember that fadeaway jumper, remember that corner three-pointer that hit the rim and almost changed the game.
Lin Qi sat in the front row of the bus, looking at his cold and aloof face reflected in the window.
The first game showed them how high the Chicago Bulls ' mountain was; the second game showed them they could try climbing it themselves.
Now, it's time to go back to Boston.