Chapter 358: Chapter 107: I Don’t Understand Offense, But Neither Will You
’I’m not good at playing with a super center? That I’m no different from Kobe? So you’re saying I’d push Yao Ming out just like him? Don’t you dare slander me.’
He was rattled.
Tracy McGrady was rattled.
But he didn’t dare do anything to Su Xi.
Su Xi had two great enforcers by his side, Stephen Jackson and Ron Artest. If these two weren’t playing basketball, they would have definitely embarked on a life of crime long ago. You could tell their respect for the law just by looking at them.
What’s more, Su Xi himself could really fight.
During the offseason, a lot of people with nothing better to do brought in professional UFC fighters to analyze last year’s brawl at the Auburn Hills Palace. They pointed out very clearly that Su Xi possessed perfect ground-and-pound skills, and that every move he made was aimed at beating the crap out of Ben Wallace, including when he fell.
Once this conclusion came out,
Ben Wallace was suddenly overcome with a sense of vindication.
But now, that feeling of vindication was fucking useless.
Was the NBA going to overturn the ruling?
He’d gotten a concussion for nothing.
Su Xi was the reigning Finals MVP, had won an Olympic gold medal, and had become a legend in international basketball. He was untouchable.
The difficult straits were long behind him.
The Rockets inbounded the ball. McGrady drove to the basket and passed it out to Jim Jackson on the perimeter.
Jim was long past his prime from the "3J" era. He was no longer the young man who feuded with Jason Kidd over a stripper.
CLANK!
A brick.
Yao Ming used his height to snatch the rebound. Foster couldn’t climb Yao Ming’s body like a stripper pole. Yao used a deft hook shot to score the Rockets’ first field goal.
This was Yao Ming’s advantage.
The famous Japanese manga center Akagi Gangi once said that whoever controls the paint controls the entire court.
This was the fundamental doctrine of the old-school center.
Yao Ming was considered the only true traditional big man in basketball today after O’Neal. The other centers were either a bit too short, lacked back-to-the-basket skills, or were trending more towards the power forward position.
Coming back the other way,
Su Xi went one-on-one against Coach Lu, but Coach Lu beat a hasty retreat, quickly switching with Jim Jackson.
Let the old vet burn off his remaining fuel.
The old vet really couldn’t handle Su Xi’s fierce attack. Although Su Xi’s skills weren’t yet polished and the details still needed refinement,
against such overwhelming strength, Jim Jackson could only raise his hands high, following every step like a marionette. He looked like he was trying hard to defend, but in reality, he wasn’t providing a shred of defensive pressure.
SWISH!
Su Xi’s shot was good.
The fans sighed. They thought Jim had defended him so well... yet the shot still went in.
This was the terrifying thing about crafty old vets; they had the ability to "look like they’re defending with all their might."
After all, in the workplace, "looking busy" is much harder than actually being busy.
Su Xi had scored six straight points to start the game.
Jeff Van Gundy was getting a little antsy. He thought more than once about his loyal disciples from his New York days. ’If they were still around, how great would that be? Would Su Xi dare to be so arrogant then?’
But one look at the Pacers’ lineup made Jeff Van Gundy drool like a cat that had gotten into the cream.
’If only I were the Pacers’ head coach.’
’The Pacers’ current lineup is easily on par with my peak New York team. I just love coaching these tough guys. I just love dealing with these fierce, hard-nosed players.’
The highlight of Jeff Van Gundy’s career was in New York. After Pat Riley joined the Miami Heat through bizarre means, he took over the "New York Gang," leading the Knicks on a wild run, even pulling off an eighth-seed upset to reach the Finals. At the time, he was considered the final gatekeeper of the East.
Jeff Van Gundy also shot to fame during a brawl between the "Miami Thugs" and the "New York Gang" when he famously clung to Alonzo Mourning’s leg to protect "Grandmama" Larry Johnson. You rarely saw head coaches like that.
He became a renowned coach in New York, and now he was making his comeback with the Rockets. He was determined to take Yao and McGrady to unprecedented new heights.
BANG!
Stephen Jackson’s fist shattered his reverie.
As Tracy McGrady was driving, he had just gotten around Jackson’s body when Artest stepped up to meet him. Just as he was about to change direction, exposing the ball... Jackson suddenly threw a punch.
He punched the basketball out of bounds.
It almost flew right over Jeff Van Gundy’s bald head.
It practically grazed his scalp as it flew into the stands.
Great control.
"Nice one, man."
Artest and Jackson high-fived.
The two of them had found their fun, taking pleasure in messing with a superstar.
McGrady was a little furious.
He controlled the rhythm of his breathing.
’What’s with the Pacers tonight? They’re all coming after me. What did I ever do to them?’
He steeled himself. After getting the ball again, he went right at Jackson’s defense and pulled up for a jumper... SWISH!
It went in.
The scoring champ really had some game.
After scoring, he didn’t forget to raise an eyebrow at Su Xi. "Jack, let me teach you something else. On offense, it’s not about having more moves. The cleaner and more efficient, the more powerful."
What McGrady said were words of wisdom.
But to Jackson, Artest, Little O’Neal, and the "white police officer," that’s not how it sounded.
’He dares to provoke Su Xi right in front of us?’
’If the lord is insulted, his subjects die for him. Get it?’
He’s Indiana’s MVP.
The game continued.
Su Xi tried the simple approach.
He used a pump fake to get Jim to back off, then pulled up for a jumper... Su Xi’s explosiveness was more than enough; in fact, it was even greater than McGrady’s. But his vertical was a bit lacking, so his shot was slightly contested on the release... CLANK!
No good.
Foster jumped up. With the same dedicated spirit he’d apply to pole dancing, he fought for an offensive rebound, tapping the ball out. Little O’Neal caught it, made a silky-smooth spin move that left Tyler completely lost, and then laid it in.
When it came to bullying the weak, Little O’Neal had it down to a science.
The game continued.
Before McGrady even got the ball, Jackson started spewing trash talk at him: "I don’t think your offense is as good as Jack’s!"
McGrady laughed in exasperation. "I’m the scoring champ. What is he? My offense isn’t as good as his? Do you even know what offense is?"
"I don’t know offense, but I can make you forget how to play it."
Jackson narrowed his eyes, like a cheetah staring down its prey.
Just then, Tyronn Lue passed the ball over. Jackson lunged aggressively, almost stealing it.
McGrady used his outstanding explosiveness and wingspan to secure the ball just in time.
But just as he was about to make his move, Artest rushed over, trapping him. He was caught between a rock and a hard place—or in this case, two very hard men.
And tough ones, at that.
The two of them harassed him relentlessly.
McGrady’s "graceful" waist spun twice, but he couldn’t shake them. He quickly passed the ball, but just as it left his hands, Su Xi shot in from the side, diving to snatch the ball away.
He then launched a sharp fast break, cutting into the paint like a razor blade. McGrady tried to give chase, but Stephen Jackson ran ahead of him, blocking his path.
BOOM!
He could only watch helplessly as Su Xi threw down a monster dunk.
McGrady was absolutely seething.
But there was nothing he could do.
He turned around, only to see Stephen Jackson’s calm, murderer-like face. "I told you, your offense isn’t as good as Jack’s."
McGrady was speechless. He knew he’d run into some serious trouble tonight.
’His heart was filled with endless resentment. ’Why the fuck don’t I have crazy, tough bastards like these on my team? If these two psychos were this loyal to me, I’d have won a fucking championship ages ago.’’
Back on offense, Tyronn Lue was about to pass him the ball. He made an early cut, and the ball was passed into the paint.
Yao Ming took the "white police officer" to school in the post. Foster was completely overpowered, and a semi-turnaround hook shot left him with no way to counter.
SWISH!
It dropped through the net.
The game continued.
Su Xi didn’t go for another iso play, because he felt there was no point. ’Might as well get serious tonight.’
Su Xi began to penetrate the paint. His drives were ferocious, plunging straight in, and the Rockets’ defense couldn’t stop him at all. They could only collapse, and as soon as they did, the perimeter was left wide open. Su Xi passed the ball out.
Jackson hit a three-pointer.
Jackson had a three-point shot, and Artest was also a capable three-point shooter.
In the paint, they had Foster, who could finish at the rim. They also had the league’s third-best power forward—a man who also happened to be the number one player at bullying weaker opponents.
How were the Rockets supposed to stop that?
The energy of the defending champions was on full display tonight.
They should feel lucky.
They were the first team to get a taste of the Pacers going all out.
...
