Half an hour later, Game 2 tipped off. Shaquille O'Neal easily won the jump ball, and the Lakers launched the first attack.
On defense, Zhao Dong remained the anchor inside—an immovable presence the Knicks couldn't afford to lose. But tonight, Coach Nelson had raised the bar: from the opening minute, Zhao Dong had to apply the most intense pressure on O'Neal and grind down his energy possession by possession.
Shaq, like a human bulldozer, posted up on the left block and began backing down. His frame, momentum, and position were all elite—he needed to dominate inside if the Lakers were to steal one in the Garden.
Zhao Dong lowered his stance, arms up, body locked in. His neck veins bulged, thick as ropes, as he braced against the giant in front of him. But even at full strength, he couldn't completely hold back Shaq's force.
Every clash of muscle drained energy.
O'Neal powered two quick steps closer to the rim—just inside two meters. The pass dropped in perfectly. Shaq caught it, leapt, and dropped in a clean hook shot over Zhao Dong's outstretched arms.
Zhao Dong had jumped to contest but came up short. Shaq's reach and timing were still overwhelming—especially when fresh. Until fatigue set in, Zhao Dong could only aim to reduce his efficiency, not stop him cold.
—
On the other end, Kobe Bryant had a score to settle.
After the loss in Game 1, he was locked in, desperate to even the series. As soon as the Knicks set their offense, he switched with Ron Harper to take on Zhao Dong one-on-one.
Phil Jackson had opted not to assign Ben Wallace to Zhao Dong. Wallace simply couldn't keep up once Zhao Dong shifted to the point guard spot. Glen Rice wasn't strong defensively either, so the job fell to Kobe.
But the mismatch was clear. Kobe stood at 198 cm with a 211 cm wingspan. Zhao Dong had him beat by 7 centimeters in height and 9 in wingspan. In terms of mass, it was no contest. Kobe was 92 kg, while Zhao Dong clocked in at 115 kg—a 23 kg gap.
Combine that with Zhao Dong's elite guard-level speed, and it was a nightmare matchup.
If Zhao Dong ever decided to lower his shoulder, Kobe could be sent flying.
But here's the catch—the so-called "Zhao Dong's Rule" limited Zhao Dong's use of power during high-post isolation plays. He couldn't just bulldoze through like a big man down low.
So Kobe focused on speed, his one equalizer. Zhao Dong rarely shot deep. Most of his attacks came near the paint. So as long as Kobe could move his feet and anticipate, he believed he could contain him.
Jordan couldn't. The older MJ got, the more Zhao Dong ate him alive off the dribble. But Kobe—at 22—was just hitting his prime. The work ethic, the film, the endless drills… he believed he was ready.
Phil Jackson believed it too.
So, the Lakers switched from their usual man-to-man to a hybrid zone scheme. Kobe was assigned to Zhao Dong, while the rest stayed in help positions—ready to collapse at the first sign of trouble.
—
Bang bang…
Zhao Dong leaned in, dribbling at the top of the arc.
He flashed a smirk and taunted, "Kobe, even if you had two more legs, you still couldn't keep up."
Kobe's brows twitched. "If I had two more legs, what the hell would I be?"
His thoughts burned. You arrogant freak. I'll kill the so-called god tonight!
Squeak!
Just as Kobe's anger surged, Zhao Dong sprang forward. The sharp friction of sneakers echoed through the arena.
Kobe didn't reach. He knew the deal—Zhao Dong was the league's efficiency king, and this was his house. Any hand-check at the arc would draw a whistle. Illegal contact was tightly policed now, especially against stars of Zhao Dong's stature.
Zhao Dong burst past the arc. As soon as he did, the Lakers collapsed. Phil Jackson had implemented "The Jordan Rule" again—five-on-one if necessary. The plan? Shut down Zhao Dong at the rim. Let the others shoot.
But Zhao Dong wasn't backing down.
Even without the "Badge of Dominance," he carried iron will. The system had given him a mission—dominate, or bust. He wasn't passing the ball. Not here. Not now.
He took two hard steps, reached the free-throw line… and leapt.
This was his last open window. One more step, and the wall would close. Five defenders, one man. He jumped at full extension, releasing the ball one-handed at his peak.
Glass. Bounce. Swish.
The ball banked in.
A high-level shot. Not flashy, but deadly efficient. The only option in a five-on-one hell.
Then Zhao Dong turned and barked at the Lakers.
"You left me open? That shot had no soul, man! No soul!"
The crowd roared with laughter.
O'Neal and the rest of the Lakers stood frozen, expressions darkening. Nostrils flared. Their pride had just been shattered.
"That's insane! One-on-five and he still scored! Zhao Dong's rebounding technique is truly unmatched," Zhang Heli exclaimed from the commentary booth.
"I think it's even better than Duncan's," Su Qun added with a grin.
"Haha, there was a rumor in the media that Duncan secretly studied Zhao Dong's rebounding form. Who knows if it's true?" Zhang chuckled.
—
Back on the floor, Kobe went at Stackhouse and knocked down a silky jumper.
"Guard me properly," Kobe said sharply. "I want every shot to have soul—not a free layup every time."
But the moment the Knicks had possession, Zhao Dong turned into a trash-talking machine again.
Kobe's nostrils flared. He took a half-step forward and lunged for a steal.
Zhao Dong was ready.
With a swift pivot, he spun past Kobe's reach and broke toward the paint, passing the top of the arc in a blur.
"Damn it! He baited me!" Kobe cursed as he turned to chase.
Another extreme double-team was waiting.
This time, the Lakers' collapse came even faster. Before Zhao Dong reached the free-throw line, Harper had slid to his right, lunging at the ball as it hit the hardwood.
Zhao Dong instinctively bent low and yanked it back. One explosive step later, he left Harper in the dust and reached the line—but the delay cost him. He no longer had a clean lane.
Ben Wallace was already in front of him, and O'Neal, Rice, Kobe, and Harper were all closing in. The trap was set.
If he jumped now, it was suicide. Big Ben and Shaq were already in mid-air. Four massive hands sealed off every angle.
Behind him, Kobe and Harper jumped, boxing him from the back.
To his left, Glen Rice reached up—ten hands in total were swarming him.
But Zhao Dong didn't panic.
He coiled his arms back, tucked the ball in his chest, and sank low beneath the wall of limbs. He absorbed the pressure—then waited.
Gravity betrayed them.
Shaq, the heaviest, dropped first. Then Wallace. Then Glen Rice. Harper followed. Finally, Kobe started descending.
But Zhao Dong was still in the air.
He unfurled like a spring, rising once more and floated just long enough to flick the ball toward the glass.
Swish.
It banked in off the board. The arena erupted.
"Another soulless shot!" Zhao Dong shouted as he jogged back, grinning. "This is the defense y'all brought to a Finals game?"
All five Lakers turned red with rage.
"He jumped first… and landed last," Smith gasped on TNT. "That hang time is supernatural."
"Ratings are exploding!" Barkley howled. "Over 60 million watching! America can't get enough of this!"
On the sidelines, Tom Hanks stood up and clapped. "This is the ultimate solo performance!"
Tom Cruise leaned in and added, "Madison Square Garden always turns into his stage."
—
But O'Neal wasn't done.
He barreled into the paint, backed Zhao Dong under the rim, and thundered in a two-handed slam.
"Why are you even trying to block me?" he barked at Zhao Dong.
"How can five of you stop me?" Zhao Dong clapped back instantly.
O'Neal turned to his teammates and roared, "We gotta kill him!"
—
Next possession, the Lakers collapsed again. But this time, Zhao Dong changed it up.
Seeing the swarm, he didn't force it.
Stackhouse made a sneaky cut. Zhao Dong lobbed a perfect pass into the lane. By the time Shaq and Wallace turned around, it was too late.
BOOM!
Stackhouse threw down the hammer.
"6–6," Su Qun reported. "Three possessions each. Three makes each. Maximum efficiency."
Zhang Heli nodded. "Zhao Dong's early defense isn't trying to stop Shaq—he's grinding him down. This game's gonna go long."
Suddenly, Phil Jackson called an early timeout.
Kobe had just been beaten off the dribble three straight times—something that rarely happened.
Phil pulled him aside.
"Defend the drive, let him shoot if he wants," Kobe repeated.
"Exactly," Phil Jackson nodded. "If he pulls up, just contest the shot and make him work for every bucket."
—
After the timeout, the Lakers resumed play.
O'Neal, surprisingly, didn't call for the ball this time. Instead, Glen Rice found an open look and launched a three from the wing—missed. The rebound bounced long.
Zhao Dong anticipated it perfectly, boxed out, and secured the board.
Phil Jackson frowned.
He had expected the Lakers to dominate the glass. But in Game 1, Zhao Dong's 61 points and 18 rebounds had flipped the script. That rebound number still haunted him.
Zhao Dong pushed the ball up and slowed near the arc. The Knicks spaced out. Stackhouse cut weak side. The others flared to the wings.
Kobe stepped up, half a step back in defensive posture, one hand raised in front of Zhao Dong's eyes.
This time, when Zhao Dong began to drive, Kobe reacted instantly, cutting him off at the arc and forcing a reset.
Zhao Dong smiled and backed up.
"Come on then," Kobe barked, his confidence rising after the stop.
"You're cocky tonight," Zhao Dong said with a smirk.
"Who's cockier than you?" Kobe shot back.
Squeak!
Zhao Dong launched forward again with the sound of sneakers grinding. Mid-trash talk, Kobe lost half a beat. That half-step was all Zhao Dong needed.
By the time Kobe recovered, Zhao Dong was already by him. He reached for the jersey but missed.
Inside, the Lakers were slower to close the gap. After Stackhouse's earlier cut, Shaq and Wallace hesitated. This slight delay opened just enough of a lane.
Zhao Dong attacked the middle. Big Ben stepped up. Zhao Dong feinted, changed directions twice—and then zipped between Ben and Shaq like a bolt of lightning.
A Z-shaped flash through the paint.
BANG!
Zhao Dong crushed the dunk, and Madison Square Garden exploded.
"LIGHTNING BREAKTHROUGH!" the courtside announcer shouted.
"Why is there never anyone guarding me?" Zhao Dong asked mockingly, turning to face the stunned Lakers.
Shaq looked ready to punch someone.
BANG!
He answered the insult with a thunderous dunk of his own, shoving past Zhao Dong midair and sending him staggering.
"I told you I'm dunking on you!" Shaq bellowed.
"Then five of you better try harder," Zhao Dong fired back, shaking off the bump.
Tensions flared.
Next play, Kobe read the drive, backed off early, and forced Zhao Dong into a pull-up. It clanged off. Shaq grabbed the board.
The Lakers countered but missed again. This time, Zhao Dong soared over Wallace for the rebound.
Back and forth they went.
By the 9th minute of the first quarter, the score stood at 18–18. Substitutes rotated in.
Neither bench unit impressed, and the quarter ended tied 25–25.
—
On CCTV's live broadcast, Zhang Heli grinned. "Told you—it's going to be a war of attrition."
Su Qun agreed. "Thirteen ties in the first quarter. A true tug-of-war between dragons and tigers."
—
Over on TNT, Barkley leaned forward.
"Shaq came out swinging today—5 of 6 from the field, 3 of 6 on free throws, 13 points. He's giving it his all."
"Zhao Dong's being trapped by five guys every play," Smith added. "Still went 6 of 10 and 2 of 2 at the line. That's 14 points. One-on-one, Kobe hasn't stopped him once."
"In a five-on-one? And still shooting 60%?" Barkley shook his head. "That's beyond dominant. That's all-time."
He paused.
"I played in the Bad Boys era. I know dirty defense. What Zhao Dong is facing now doesn't compare. He's lucky not to be playing against that."
Smith raised an eyebrow. "You saying his stats are inflated?"
"No, no. I mean, what more do you want? Five-on-one? This isn't about intensity—it's about dirt. He never saw what Jordan did against Detroit. Zhao Dong's fortunate."
Smith nodded. "In four years, Knicks have battled the Jazz, Bulls, Heat, now Lakers… none of them played dirty like the Bad Boys did."
Barkley laughed. "If Chuck Daly coached against Zhao Dong, his orders would be simple: 'I want his blood tonight.'"
Smith grinned. "Yeah, and the moment they step up, Zhao Dong's gonna knock them all out. The Garden's turning into a boxing ring!"
Barkley blinked, suddenly remembering—
"Didn't Zhao Dong win two heavyweight titles?"
"Exactly," Smith said, laughing.
"Ha! No one's surviving that matchup," Barkley said.
They both burst into laughter.
If you notice the new Fanfic are gone i'll give the new link
This is the new link for my new Fanfic because i repost it
Killing People is Kinda Scientific Right?
https://www.webnovel.com/book/killing-people-is-kinda-scientific-right_33392445700696205
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Check my Pâtreon for (40) advanced chapters
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