Kicking off the new year in January, the Warriors' first opponent was the Cleveland Cavaliers.
This season, LeBron James, in his contract year, was putting up MVP-level numbers—averaging 30.1 points, 8.8 rebounds, and 9.1 assists per game for the Cavs.
The young LeBron was confident he'd cracked the code to being a dominant playmaking superstar.
But Zack, back from injury, loomed over him like an unshakable mountain. No matter what LeBron achieved, Zack always seemed one step ahead.
"Zack is a better-skilled, bigger version of LeBron"—that's the comparison LeBron had heard most about himself and Zack in recent years.
No matter how hard he chased, the moment anyone brought up that Finals series or the two USA-matchups at the Beijing Olympics, LeBron was automatically seen as a tier below Zack.
And the worst part? LeBron knew it was true.
Years of facing off had left an indelible psychological scar on LeBron's mind.
At the Beijing Olympics, LeBron had thrown everything he had into defending Zack. Yet, Zack, looking like a god on the international stage, dropped 55 and 58 points on his head in those games.
In every past matchup, LeBron gave it his all, but Zack and the Warriors always steamrolled the Cavs with ease.
LeBron believed that without Zack, this could've been his career-defining season.
But as long as Zack was around to be compared to, and as long as LeBron couldn't beat him, he'd forever be stuck with the excuse that he "still needed to grow."
LeBron didn't know when this exhausting chase would end.
Maybe it never would.
In short, LeBron was done with this endless pursuit.
On the surface, he'd publicly stated multiple times this season that he'd prioritize staying in Cleveland come summer. But privately, knowing that only a shortcut could help him catch Zack, LeBron was already quietly eyeing teams with brighter prospects.
Sure, the Cavs and owner Dan Gilbert were willing to spend big on their young king. But wasn't it also true that Cleveland struggled to attract true superstar talent?
If the Cavs couldn't help him close the gap with Zack, LeBron figured he'd have to find a team that could.
Oakland, Oracle Arena.
LeBron was about to face Zack for the 11th time in his career (including playoffs). With a 0–10 record against him, LeBron sought out Zack before the game for a quick chat.
Their conversation mostly revolved around the upcoming labor negotiations in February. Superstars like Kobe, Zack, LeBron, and Chris Paul would all be in attendance.
This was a high-stakes labor dispute.
During their chat, Zack noticed LeBron was deliberately distancing himself.
"We're the younger guys," LeBron said. "We should listen to veterans like Kobe, who went through the 1998 lockout, and take their advice."
"We should try to say as little as possible," he added. "The more you talk, the more you mess up. Patrick Ewing's a prime example—his comments back then turned fans against us."
Zack knew that, despite always coming up short against him, LeBron was still a top-five player in the league.
But what Zack didn't expect was that, in these crucial labor talks, a top-five star like LeBron planned to sit on the sidelines.
He didn't want to betray the players' union, but he also didn't want to risk saying something that might upset the owners or fans.
Was that reasonable?
Sure, it was.
Because historically, that's exactly what LeBron did during these negotiations. It wasn't until 2015, when the NBA signed a massive TV deal and the next round of labor talks began, that LeBron took a harder stance. With huge profits at stake, everyone knew the differences between players and owners were no longer real obstacles.
In short, LeBron never fought battles he wasn't sure he could win.
Zack didn't fault him for it.
Still, at the end of their chat, Zack gave LeBron a heads-up: "Brown, this time, we can only get through this if we stand united."
Zack knew that, unlike the older generation of players, the players' union hadn't beaten the owners since 1983, largely because of internal disunity. Unlike the fearless veterans of the past, today's higher-earning players often leaned toward compromise for various reasons.
Whenever the owners played their trump card—a lockout—the union would hold out for a few months before waving the white flag.
Zack planned to consult with Oscar Robertson, who'd fought for players' rights in the past, before All-Star Weekend to find a way to win this off-court battle.
If possible, Zack really didn't want the NBA to face a lockout. A shortened 2011–12 season would mean that even if he led the Warriors to a title, it'd be branded with an asterisk.
On the court, their chat wrapped up, and the showdown between the East's top Cavs and the league-leading Warriors tipped off.
This season, Cavs coach Mike Brown had upgraded his signature zone defense. The increasingly savvy "Black Bread" constantly switched between zone and man-to-man to disrupt opponents' rhythm.
Zone defenses were vulnerable to three-point shooting, but even into the small-ball era, they remained popular because offensive shooting was inherently inconsistent.
Brown's tweaks to the Cavs' zone had turned them into a regular-season machine, shredding weaker teams. If opponents couldn't crack their zone, LeBron would bulldoze through, piling up leads.
But tonight, the Cavs were up against the Warriors—a team led by a commander who treated zones like they didn't exist.
As Zack's archrival, LeBron, fueled by the "Zack Rule," came out swinging, engaging in intense physical battles from the opening possession.
Unlike defenders who sagged off Zack, LeBron, confident he could match his speed, played aggressive, in-your-face defense. Zack could sense LeBron was out to prove something.
Zack admitted that LeBron's all-out defense flipped his "serious mode" switch.
On the right wing, after probing with a hesitation step, Zack exploded forward, bulldozing past LeBron like a tank charging into the Cavs' paint.
The next second, with Zydrunas Ilgauskas in front and LeBron trailing, Zack used his elite finishing touch to muscle the ball into the hoop.
And it was an AND-ONE that the refs had no choice but to call.
"Nice defense, Brown," Zack said sincerely, turning to LeBron. "You were this close to stopping me."
But to LeBron, those words landed like a blatant taunt.
Zack wasn't wrong.
LeBron was trying to prove something tonight—not that he'd caught up to Zack, but that he was the one player in the league who could go toe-to-toe with him, a signal to teams with a real shot at dethroning Zack.
Zack hit the free throw.
On the Cavs' next possession, LeBron, playing smarter than ever, used a 2–3 pick-and-roll to get old man Bell switched onto him. Fueled by frustration, LeBron powered past Bell on the left side for a reverse layup.
Brown's help defense was a step slow, and LeBron's shot went in.
Back on offense, Zack called for the ball, spun quickly, and toyed with LeBron, whose defensive habits still needed polish.
A simple under-the-legs dribble and pull-back sent LeBron lunging, losing his balance.
Swish!
In the first quarter, a hyper-focused Zack went 6-for-9 from the field, 1-for-2 from three, and 4-for-4 from the line, dropping 17 points, 5 rebounds, 3 assists, 1 block, and 1 steal.
From the Cavs' bench, Randy Mims, feeling LeBron was getting unfairly targeted, griped, "Good thing Brown doesn't see him as a brother anymore. Zack's clearly trying to embarrass him!"
Was Zack really out to humiliate LeBron?
Of course not.
Since the "Zack Rule" came into play, Zack only turned on serious mode against opponents who piqued his interest, like Kevin Garnett, whom he deeply respected.
In that Christmas game against the Sonics, if anyone else had been sagging off, Zack might not have gone off like he did. But because it was Garnett, Zack wanted to torch his defense.
Tonight, Zack was giving LeBron the same respect.
But how could he have known that Mims would take his effort as an insult? Was going all-out in a basketball game now a crime?
In the second quarter, Zack kept the heat on.
Thanks to the "Zack Rule," LeBron brought intense physicality, but Zack, who'd leveled up his post game during his injury recovery, used his footwork and rhythm to carve out shooting angles.
On TNT, after Zack nailed a picture-perfect shoulder-fake, turnaround jumper over LeBron, Charles Barkley, haunted by memories, groaned, "I'm done being a Messiah fan."
"Why's that, Charles?" his co-host Kenny Smith asked with a laugh.
"Because his post moves remind me of that damn bald egg!" Barkley whined.
A skilled translator ensures the original intent shines through. So, while Barkley didn't literally say "bald egg," it captured his frustration perfectly.
To Barkley, every time Zack pulled off a Jordan-esque post move, it was like a dagger to his heart. He couldn't fathom why, with so many post-up legends to emulate, Zack chose to mimic that nauseating bald egg.
Worse, Zack had somehow mastered it better than Kobe.
"My post game's pretty slick, huh, Brown?" Zack bragged after another turnaround jumper over LeBron. "Watch some of Michael's tape—it'll help your post moves."
LeBron, sensing another "big brother" lecture coming, stayed silent, grabbed the ball, and dribbled upcourt.
This was yet another night where LeBron felt Zack was his perfect, superior replacement.
Without Zack, LeBron believed he'd be battling for the league's top spot. But against Zack, he felt like a high schooler who couldn't play.
The harder LeBron tried, the more he felt Zack's bottomless dominance. Every ounce of frustration only solidified his belief that he needed to leave Cleveland and find better help to beat him.
In the second half, Zack dialed back, focusing on racking up assists—a habit Nash loathed.
Still, Cleveland's Chosen One couldn't avoid becoming Zack's punching bag in the Cavs' New Year's opener, retreating into shutdown mode.
Final score: 97–121.
LeBron finished 8-for-18, 2-for-6 from three, 6-for-10 from the line, with 24 points, 8 rebounds, and 8 assists.
Zack? He checked out early after three quarters, posting 48 points, 14 rebounds, 15 assists, 4 blocks, and 2 steals.
Postgame, when asked why he always scored so easily against LeBron, Zack pushed back: "Brown's defense is outstanding. He was first-team All-Defense last season. Sure, I score a lot against him, but you can't question his defense just because he can't stop me."
But Mims wasn't buying Zack's defense of LeBron. "Brown, listen to this guy! 'You can't question his defense just because he can't stop me'? He's only propping you up as a first-team defender to highlight how unstoppable he is. To him, you're just a stepping stone!"
"I know, Randy," LeBron said.
Since viewing Zack as a superficial friend, LeBron rarely let him get under his skin. He knew he was keeping up appearances with Zack mainly to maintain his market .
The real reason LeBron shut down tonight? He simply had no answer for Zack.
"Mims, do you think there's such a thing as a 'better version' of someone?" LeBron asked, dejected. "I feel like no matter how hard I try for a hundred years, I'll always be his lesser version."
LeBron figured he needed a therapist.
Zack had become his demon in every sense.
---
In January, the Warriors, riding a hot streak, saw their run snapped in Charlotte by the Bobcats.
It was a rare game where the entire Warriors squad couldn't find their shot.
Except for Curry.
In Charlotte, the Warriors' No. 30, carrying on his father's legacy, erupted for 31 points, 4 rebounds, and 3 assists in front of his hometown crowd.
In Zack's previous life, Dell Curry was a beloved figure in Charlotte during his Hornets days, so whenever Steph played there, it felt like a home game. The local fans had watched him grow up from his diaper days.
If Zack recalled correctly, Curry once said that if he ever left the Warriors, his top choice would be the Charlotte Hornets, who'd later inherit the original Hornets' history and name from the New Orleans Pelicans.
"I grew up in Charlotte, so playing here is always special," Curry said postgame. "Just wish we could've pulled out the win tonight."
Meanwhile, a thrilled Michael Jordan, elated by his Bobcats' upset, approached Zack for a chat.
But when Jordan, now a full-fledged capitalist, brought up the labor negotiations and said, "You guys are already making enough—it's time to compromise," Zack fired back: "But my idol Michael Jordan once said that if a team can't make money, the owner should find someone who knows how to run it."
Caught by his own words, Jordan's face flushed.
Clearly, the longer he wore a suit, the more Jordan thought like a businessman.
"Michael, back in the day, you were a player negotiating with those heartless suits you called out," Zack pressed, throwing another dart. "If you guys didn't back down then, we sure as hell won't now."
Zack understood the old GOAT's position. But if Jordan wanted to tarnish his image among the new generation to cement Zack as the one true GOAT, Zack wasn't going to stop him.
Jordan hadn't expected Zack's stance to be so firm—or that his own words would come back to haunt him.
Their chat ended on a sour note.
Knowing that capitalist Jordan had only lost his GOAT status, while Zack had lost a "great" idol, Zack prepared to cut ties with him if needed.
In February, back in Los Angeles, Zack and Kobe, despite their rocky history, found common ground as players facing the upcoming labor talks.
"We can't give in," Kobe said, speaking from experience. "The second we do, the owners will keep pushing."
Zack, feeling upbeat, replied, "Kobe, you notice how much my post game's improved lately?"
"Huh?"
"No lie, we've got our differences, but I learned my post moves from watching your tape."
"…"