The Celtics ' biggest headache for opponents is Mutombo's defense, while Price's second unit is the most surprising.
So, there is only one person who is most "disgusting" to the opponent.
Sam Cassell.
This 26-year-old point guard has the most punchable mouth in the entire league, and an enormous "alien" head.
When he plays, his mouth never stops. He chatters while dribbling, he chatters when a mid-range shot goes in, and when the defense is close, he can even chant all the way from his own baseline to the opponent's three-point line. He can turn an opponent from a calm and composed professional player into a frustrated and clumsy young man.
But Lin Qi knew that Sam Cassell's trash talk was never just mindless street brawling.
That was a precise psychological warfare technique that was at the forefront of the times.
That night, playing against the Dallas Mavericks on the road, Sam Cassell showcased this skill to its fullest.
Dallas in November was on the eve of a storm.
Sports columns across the United States have been frantically reporting on the Dallas Mavericks ' "ball possession infighting" these past few days, with media outlets criticizing Jason Kidd and Jim Jackson for acting like enemies on the court, barely exchanging a glance. The outside world generally believes this is just a simple power struggle over ball possession and leadership.
The sensational sex scandal involving popular singer Toni Rice is still being covered up, and not a single mainstream media outlet dares to report it.
But in locker rooms throughout the league, this matter had already become a widely known rumor.
On Late Night buses after games and in VIP lounges of nightclubs in major cities, countless energetic veterans of the NBA have already recounted this gossip hundreds of times, embellishing it with vivid detail.
In those private rumors, the details were described in an extremely unpleasant and vivid way: Jason Kidd waited anxiously at the hotel entrance in his luxury car, while Jim Jackson, in full view of everyone, picked up the female lead in an even more dazzling sports car. Before leaving, he even rolled down the car window and whistled at the disheveled Kidd in the wind.
A man's most sensitive sense of dignity was utterly trampled upon within his own circle.
As soon as players across the league start gossiping behind each other's backs, a nuclear bomb has been planted in Dallas's locker room.
But ironically, sitting in the Boston locker room was Sam Cassell, the most well-informed and cunning " Lao Liumang on the court."
At this moment Jim Jackson, under the spotlight of the entire United States, was eager to establish absolute authority within the team, had an extremely strong desire to play one-on-one, and was so hot-tempered that he could be easily provoked.
Whether this gossip, which could be considered an urban legend, was true or false, Lin Qi didn't care.
The Dallas Mavericks ' locker room was already falling apart once the entire league started to believe in it.
At this moment Jim Jackson, under the spotlight of the entire United States, was eager to establish his absolute leadership position amidst the internal strife. He had an extremely strong desire to play one-on-one and was quick to anger.
At the start of the game, during the defensive switch matchup, Sam Cassell stuck to him like a leech.
"Hey, Dallas's big star," Sam Cassell, tilting his head and chewing gum, revealing a mouthful of white teeth, as he wrapped his chest around Jackson's side. "I heard you've been practicing your driving skills pretty well lately. Want to borrow your car keys after you play basketball tonight?"
Jim Jackson's face instantly darkened to a grim degree.
Who in the entire league doesn't know that Sam Cassell was publicly humiliating him by using that "wrong train" meme?
Jackson gritted his teeth and ignored him completely, lowering his shoulders and taking a series of probing steps to create space, intending to forcefully burst through.
"That's it? Even your probing steps are so weak?"
Sam Cassell, with his seasoned defensive experience, had blocked his path in advance, continuing to spew venom from his mouth, "Without Jason passing you the ball, you can't even get two steps in. No wonder people's sports cars don't want you to give them a ride anymore, your engine isn't powerful enough."
The veins on Jackson's neck bulged instantly!
He had never been treated like this before. Under the spotlight of the national broadcast, he simply took the initiative, jumped against Sam Cassell's close defense, and twisted his body in the air to shoot an extremely difficult fadeaway long two-pointer.
Clang!
The ball slammed heavily against the front of the rim.
"Look at you, getting impatient already?"
Sam Cassell grabbed the long backboard and, shaking his head, pushed it forward on the court, his face full of regret as if he were wasting a precious opportunity. "Young man, the more anxious you are, the more excited I get."
For the next two quarters, Sam Cassell was like a persistent greenbottle fly, constantly buzzing in Jackson's ear.
The Dallas star was completely thrown off his rhythm. He was focused on using obsessive isolation plays to finish off this noisy old man, not even glancing at Kidd who was calling for the ball on the perimeter, and just forcing shots as soon as he got the ball.
The Dallas Mavericks ' offense gradually came to a standstill, and Jackson's turnovers skyrocketed.
With almost no effort, Sam Cassell completely neutralized the opponent's most threatening breach point with just his words.
Just when everyone thought Sam Cassell would stick to this thuggish tactic, a significant detail occurred in the latter part of the third quarter.
The Dallas Mavericks' head coach replaced the hot-headed Jackson with veteran Derrick Harper from the bench.
This veteran All-Star point guard, in his thirties and nearing the end of his career, returned to Dallas this season, spending most of his time on the bench passing on his experience to the younger players.
Because they were both point guards, Sam Cassell and Harper were directly matched up at the top of the key.
The spectators on the sidelines craned their necks, waiting to see how Sam Cassell would use his foul mouth to "greet" this legendary old man of the Dallas Mavericks.
Strangely, Sam Cassell suddenly fell silent.
He remained focused, defending fiercely and diligently.
But that mouth that hadn't stopped moving since the start of the competition actually shut up when facing Harper.
He simply exchanged blows with the veteran in silence.
Harper dribbled with extremely solid fundamentals, then made a signature pull-up jumper, and Sam Cassell remained silent. On the other hand, Sam Cassell used a screen to drive into the paint and responded with a strong mid-range jumper, again without uttering a single word of provocation.
A strange, peaceful silence prevailed between the two men, who were drenched in sweat during their match.
On the sidelines, assistant coach Thibodeau was scratching his head in disbelief.
"Lin," he said, sidling up to Lin Qi in bewilderment, "What's wrong with Sam today? He's been babbling on and on with that young brat, but when it comes to Harper, he's completely silent?"
"Does he also have compassion for the elderly and care for the young?"
Lin Qi chuckled as he sat on the bench, shaking his head slightly.
"It's not that I can't bear to," Lin Qi said, staring at the field, "It's just unnecessary."
"Unnecessary?" Thibodeau was even more puzzled. " Harper is almost retired, what's wrong with saying a few words to him?"
" Tom, you don't understand Sam, that old fox."
Lin Qi leaned back in his chair and said slowly, " Sam Cassell's trash talk is a poisoned hook; he only catches young people with unstable mindsets who get easily provoked. Talking to Jackson can completely wipe that kid's rationality off, making him fall into a dead end of obsessive one-on-one play. With Sam, trash talk is the first knife to break through his defenses; it's called killing him psychologically."
But Derrick Harper is different.
Lin Qi pointed to Harper, who was methodically organizing the offense on the court. "That's an old monster who's played in the NBA for over a decade and went head-to-head with all sorts of top guards in the playoffs. Sam can certainly criticize him, but there's absolutely no need for it."
"Those veterans are usually focused on maintaining their health; their mentality is very stable. Criticizing them won't shake their mentality at all. Instead, it will only become a stimulant to their pride, easily forcing them to use up their last bit of pride. It's not worth it to provoke an old guy who's already planning to just coast through his time."
"That's where Sam's cleverness lies," Lin Qi laughed. "He knows all too well what's a good deal and what's a bad one."
"He relentlessly criticized Jackson, because he believed that criticizing him could directly break the mentality of the opponent's most threatening weak point."
"He didn't say a word to Harper," Lin Qi rubbed his temples, "Because he understands a golden rule for survival in the League..."
"Since the battle can be won without losing a single soldier, let that sleeping giant continue his deep sleep."
Thibodeau stood there, suddenly realizing what was happening.
He turned to look at Sam Cassell, who was tilting his head and had an unusual appearance, and his expression changed completely.
When he wants to be disgusting, he can make even the most privileged students doubt themselves.
When it's not his place to provoke someone, he can keep his mouth shut tighter than anyone else, and he would never ignite any powder keg that could lead to collapse.
This is the measure of a top-tier psychological warfare master.
Behind this sense of proportion lies an extremely high level of sports intelligence and an exceptional grasp of human nature.