"Zhao Dong has to get to the low post. With Fortson out, the Knicks' interior presence depends entirely on him," Su Qun analyzed on CCTV's national broadcast.
As the Knicks set their offense, only Zhao Dong moved inside the arc. The other four—Rodney Rogers, Shawn Marion, Jerry Stackhouse, and Manu Ginóbili—spread out across the three-point line: two on the wings, two in the corners.
Zhao Dong, calm and composed, strolled toward the arc like a man walking through a Sunday market.
The 76ers lined up in a 2-1-2 zone. On the baseline: George Lynch and Karl Malone. On the wings: Iverson and Eric Snow. In the center: Theo Ratliff, already edging up near the top of the key, waiting for Zhao Dong.
As Zhao reached the arc, Ratliff stepped forward, ready to wall off the paint.
"Not so fast," Zhang Heli said suddenly. "Zhao might not even need the low post…"
Before he could finish, Zhao exploded—a sudden change of direction, slicing past Ratliff like a blade.
Ratliff pivoted hard to recover, while the rest of the defense collapsed in, eyes darting toward Ginóbili on the left wing, who held the ball. The plan was simple: let Zhao cut, then deliver the pass.
This was Larry Brown's defensive strategy—double-team Zhao only after he received the ball. Off-ball help would leave open shooters, and every Knick on the floor was a threat from deep.
Even Rodney Rogers, who replaced Fortson, couldn't be left alone—he shot 43.9% from three in the regular season and 41.5% in the first round. Larry Brown was banking on leaving rookie Shawn Marion open instead, assuming first-game nerves would do the job for them.
Ginóbili played it by the book—just as Coach Nelson designed. He hit Zhao with a crisp pass as he slashed into the paint, free throw line extended.
Ratliff was there—barely. He bumped Zhao mid-stride, clamping his right arm to slow him down.
"Bang!"
Zhao caught the ball one-handed with his left, stopped cold, and popped backward.
Ratliff bit hard and overshot the closeout.
"Swish!"
Mid-range jumper, pure.
Malone had hustled back into the paint but was too late to contest. He could only watch from two steps away as the ball sank cleanly through the net.
"There you go!" Zhang Heli shouted. "I told you—he doesn't need to play back-to-the-basket. With his movement off the ball, he's pulling the entire defense out of the paint!"
Su Qun nodded, smiling. "Exactly. If Malone's late on the rotation, Zhao goes straight to the rim. If he arrives in time, Zhao hits that quick-stop jumper. And if they collapse? He's got Rogers wide open for the corner three. It's options everywhere."
---
TNT Broadcast – Charles Barkley & Kenny Smith
Barkley leaned forward in the booth.
"Man, the Tyrant's footwork is unreal. Ratliff had him dead to rights, but Zhao still got clean separation. You give him that shot two steps from the basket 100 times—he's hittin' 98."
Kenny Smith grinned. "He's moving like the star Kobe but thinking like '96 Jordan."
Next Possession – 76ers Offense
Iverson sprinted up the court looking to ignite a fast break, but Stackhouse was on him like glue. With no open lane, Iverson pulled it back.
Their grudge was personal. Back in the day, Stackhouse and Iverson clashed for ball dominance in Philly, and when things soured, Stackhouse was traded. And when Zhao Dong slapped him in a locker room scuffle, Iverson, the so-called team leader, had stayed silent. Stackhouse never forgot.
Now they were rivals.
The 76ers set up in half-court.
Ratliff posted inside. Malone floated to the left wing, dragging Zhao Dong with him.
Zhao shadowed him at the edge of the paint—far enough to contest a shot, close enough to rotate back to the rim.
Snow passed it into Malone.
Zhao immediately rotated.
Ratliff flashed to the rim.
Malone lobbed it over the top.
"Bang!"
Ratliff dunked it home—right over Rogers.
"That's exactly how we lost in the regular season," Barkley groaned. "Rogers at the four is just too small."
Kenny Smith raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he taller than you?"
Barkley blinked. "I… I mean technically—maybe. But I still had that lift, Kenny. I had that 1989 spring. C'mon, now!"
He laughed to cover it up. Everyone knew Barkley's real height was probably closer to Jordan's than to Malone's.
---
On the Sideline
Coach Don Nelson whispered something to young assistant Fan Bin.
Fan nodded and stood.
Nelson was already considering an adjustment.
Willis might be next.
Knicks Ball – Same Formation
No one in the post. Five out.
Spacing stretched the 76ers Team's zone to its limits.
Zhao Dong once again started at the top of the arc, then darted into the lane without the ball, splitting the gap between Ratliff and Malone.
Ginobili controlled the ball on the right wing, eyes scanning the floor. He spotted Karl Malone sagging too far off Rogers, who had slid into the right baseline pocket.
Too much space.
Without hesitation, Ginobili zipped the pass across.
Rogers caught it clean. Malone was a full ten feet away. He rose for a textbook mid-range jumper—clean release, no contest.
Bang!
It clanked off the rim.
Zhao Dong exploded from the weak side, soaring through a forest of bodies. He grabbed the rebound mid-air and slammed it back with a thunderous two-handed dunk.
"Yeah! Zhao Dong with the putback jam! Another highlight finish from the Tyrant!" Marv Albert's voice echoed through the Garden.
Score: 2–4. 76ers Team with possession.
Malone moved up to the elbow, clearly drawing Zhao Dong out of the paint—trying to bait him away from the basket. But this time, it wasn't Ratliff setting the screen. It was Iverson.
Allen Iverson weaved through the traffic, shaking off Stackhouse with a slick backdoor cut. Malone dropped a precise bounce pass right into the lane.
Iverson caught it on the move and drove hard to the hoop. Rogers tried to help, but he was sealed off by Ratliff's screen.
Too late.
"Swish!" The layup went down clean.
"Without Fordson, Zhao Dong gets pulled out again by Malone. The Knicks' interior is exposed," Doug Collins analyzed on NBC.
Zhang Heli, courtside for CCTV, added, "Although Rogers and Fordson are the same height, Rogers lacks the strength and defensive awareness. Fordson weighs in at 118 kilograms—Rogers is only 107. That tonnage gap matters in the paint."
Su Qun chimed in: "Rogers was brought in for shooting and speed. Defense? That was never his strength. Playing him at power forward is asking for trouble."
By the five-minute mark, the scoreboard read 12–12. Both teams were lights out on offense, forcing the Knicks to call timeout.
"They should pull Rogers," Su Qun said in the studio.
"I wouldn't," Zhang Heli countered. "Marion's been shaky. He hasn't adjusted to the playoff pressure—his shooting isn't there yet. Rogers may be a defensive liability, but he's playoff-tested. This is his fourth postseason. We need that experience."
Su Qun nodded slowly. "Good point."
Out of the timeout, Coach Nelson adjusted.
Marion was benched.
Veteran Kevin Willis checked in at the four, while Rogers slid back to his natural small forward position.
Rookie Marion had clearly hit the rookie wall—he'd struggled for the last thirty games of the regular season and barely made an impact in Round 1. Averaging just 6 points and 3 boards with sub-40% shooting, he wasn't reliable right now.
Knicks Ball.
Willis set up on the right low post. Rogers spaced to the right wing. Ginobili floated up top.
On the opposite side, Stackhouse held the ball at the left arc. Zhao Dong went to work against Karl Malone in the left block.
The 76ers switched to a 2-1-2 zone. George Lynch crashed in from the middle. Malone rotated from the weak side.
Triple team incoming.
Ratliff fronted Zhao Dong, using every ounce of muscle. Zhao Dong felt the pressure—then baited them.
He pump-faked a pass to the weak side.
Lynch hesitated. Malone hesitated. Even Ratliff stuttered.
In that split second, Zhao Dong spun off his pivot and rose for a fadeaway jumper.
Ratliff reacted—but late.
"Splash!" Nothing but net.
That was Zhao Dong's fourth bucket of the night—4-for-5 from the field.
"Zhao Dong is cookin'! Philadelphia has no answer for the Tyrant inside!" barked Charles Barkley.
Kenny Smith added, "But the Knicks still have a problem. Their defense isn't there. If the bench comes in,Philadelphia second unit will feast."
Score: 14–12. Philadelphia possession.
Malone moved to the perimeter again. This time, Willis switched onto him.
Iverson penetrated hard again, collapsed the Knicks' interior, and kicked it back out.
Malone took the pass, gave Willis a hard elbow nudge, created space, and nailed the mid-range jumper.
Zhang Heli groaned. "We still can't stop Malone. Without Fordson, our paint is collapsing. Zhao Dong can't be everywhere. If he steps out, we give up drives. If he stays in, Malone eats us from mid-range."
Su Qun nodded gravely. "That's how we dropped two at home during the regular season."
Nine minutes into the quarter: 22–22.
The pace was electric. High efficiency on both ends. Time for the official timeout.
Both coaches subbed out partial lineups, trying to balance stamina and scoring.
For the Knicks, Zhao Dong and Stackhouse stayed on. Zhao Dong shifted to point forward, handling the ball at the top.
Marion checked back in at the three, while Willis and Gary Trent filled out the frontcourt.
The Philadelphia kept their lethal duo—Iverson and Malone—on the floor. They clearly weren't taking any chances.
The bench unit supporting them: Aaron McKie at shooting guard, Tyronn Hill at center, and Toni Kukoc at small forward.
Barkley shook his head on the NBC broadcast. "The Philadelphia bench is just stacked. Aaron McKie's been averaging 14 a night in the first round—he's the third scoring option in the playoffs behind Iverson and Malone. Best scoring punch off the bench, no question."
Doug Collins nodded. "Tyronn Hill's been a beast on the boards—9 rebounds per game off the bench, and he's no slouch scoring either. He's giving them 12 points a game. And then there's Kukoc… high basketball IQ, silky smooth, still in the running for Sixth Man of the Year."
Kenny Smith added, "And when you look at the Knicks' bench—man, it's just a mismatch. If Zhao Dong gets pulled to the perimeter, the paint's wide open. They've got no interior anchor."
Meanwhile on CCTV's live feed, Zhang Heli furrowed his brow. "Something's not right today. The Knicks' defense—where did it go? Nelson won two titles with this team. Is he getting too comfortable? Has he abandoned defense altogether? They're bleeding points out there."
Su Qun nodded. "And so far, only one timeout from each team. Just one."
Zhang Heli leaned closer to the mic. "Philadelphia Team is executing. Offensively, they're playing sharp. A tie at this point? That's a win for them. But the Knicks… they're losing their identity. Pat Riley built this team on defense. Are they really tossing that aside?"
In truth, Coach Don Nelson didn't have much choice. Fordson's injury had left a gaping hole in the frontcourt, and no amount of strategy could hide it.
The game resumed—and three minutes later, the buzzer ended the first quarter.
Score: 32–30. Knicks up by two.
Offensive fireworks on both ends. The Garden crowd was roaring, but the tension was palpable.
Barkley leaned forward. "It's clear now. The Knicks just don't have the bodies to hold the paint. They've gotta outscore the Philadelphia to survive. With that bench disadvantage, Zhao Dong has to stay aggressive and carry the load."
Smith looked at the stat sheet. "Zhao Dong's cooking—9 for 12 from the field, 6 for 6 at the line, 24 points in the first quarter. That's insane efficiency. But the question is: can he keep this pace up for four quarters? Can he carry a full series like this?"
Barkley chuckled. "He's one point away from tying Isiah Thomas' single-quarter playoff record—25 points in the '88 Finals."
Smith grinned. "That was legendary. But Sir Charles, didn't you drop 27 in a quarter once?"
Barkley smirked. "Damn right I did."
Smith raised an eyebrow. "But Sleepy Floyd still tops you both—29 in a playoff quarter. Zhao Dong's got a long way to go."
They both laughed.
"But seriously," Barkley said, tone shifting, "Zhao Dong's playing efficient. And I don't even think he's fully unleashed yet."
Smith blinked. "You think he's holding back?"
"Think about it," Barkley replied. "The Knicks took 26 shots that quarter. Zhao Dong only took 12. That means the rest of the team took 14. He could be taking more."
Smith nodded slowly. "If this becomes a shootout, it's gonna come down to conditioning. Who can last longer—Zhao Dong or the Mailman-Iverson combo?"
Back on the Knicks bench, Nelson was in deep discussion with Van Gundy and the rest of the staff. But no matter how they sliced it, there was no easy answer.
You can't cook without ingredients.
Zhao Dong, sitting on the bench with a towel draped over his shoulders, waved them over.
Nelson leaned in. The other coaches crouched close.
Zhao Dong leaned forward, his voice low and calm. "If we can't stop them, then let's outscore them. I don't believe we'll lose this game offensively."
Nelson blinked. "Full-on attack?"
Zhao Dong nodded. "I'll guard Malone. If Iverson drives, I'll rotate to protect the rim. Let the others help off the weak side."
With no better options, Nelson gave the green light.
Moments later, the clipboard came out. Adjustments were made.
Zhao Dong was granted full offensive freedom. Truthfully, he always had that power—no one could stop him from taking over a game. But this time, he was making it official.
Second Quarter Begins.
Both squads rolled out hybrid lineups—half starters, half reserves.
The Knicks sent out Zhao Dong, Ginobili, Marion, Willis, and Gary Trent. Stackhouse took a breather.
The Philadelphia? They kept their core. Iverson and Malone returned to the floor, along with McKie, Tyronn Hill, and Kukoc.
"The Email Duo's staying in," Smith said, eyes widening. "They want this win bad."
Barkley smirked. "You know the beef between Malone and Zhao Dong. It's personal. Malone's never figured him out. He wants this win more than the ring itself."
Smith nodded. "And Iverson? The No. 1 pick in '96, but always in Zhao Dong's shadow. Undrafted kid from China outshining him year after year. This is his shot."
Barkley leaned back. "They're going to war. But in the long run? The one with more gas in the tank's gonna win. And the Knicks went all-out in the regular season. Zhao Dong's logged more minutes than the entire Mailman combo. If this becomes a marathon, not a sprint…"
Smith sighed. "Even Iron Men have limits."
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Check my Pâtreon for (40) advanced chapters
Pâtreon .com/Fanficlord03
Change (â) to (a)
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
https://discord.gg/MntqcdpRZ9