Chapter 757: Chapter 9 Pilgrimage
The coaching staff of the Portland Trail Blazers all felt that the preseason training camp was a bit too short; they simply didn’t have enough time to digest the essence and details of the Princeton Offense.
Moreover, after the success of the 1989-1990 season, Bobby Berman faced new challenges with the backcourt player lineup in the new season.
The departure of Hornacek, an important tactical pivot, led to changes in the lineup combinations and tactical cooperation.
Generally speaking, after achieving such great success last season, with 69 regular-season wins, a record-setting 15-2 in the playoffs to win the championship, the Blazers from the new season should just preserve the fruits of the last season to remain historically great.
But for the Blazers who introduced a new tactical system, they had to face many problems and challenges.
Of course, it seemed unbelievable to close doors as a couple of coaches, consult with an old college coach for two weeks, and then to inject new tactical genes into a 4-time championship team.
In fact, during the preseason training camp, the players were somewhat unaccustomed, and Portland’s media didn’t understand either - we are clearly a 69-win championship team, why on earth should we learn a tactical system from an Ivy League university?
We, the Trail Blazers, have five championships; how many do you, Princeton, have?
The reason the Chicago Bulls use the "Triangle Offense" is that they couldn’t win championships.
Not to mention championships; they can’t even make it to the finals – isn’t it just clutching at straws in desperation, trying anything?
So at first, nobody understood, including the proponents Bobby Berman and Adelman; they had discussed in private more than once, perhaps they should just give up on this idea.
Would it not be okay to continue maintaining the good tactical style of the 1990 season and patch things up on the details? This is what any normal coach would do; defending champions don’t develop new tactics.
In some preseason games, when the Portland fans saw Ah Gan always moving to the high post to pass the ball, they expressed that they wanted to see Ah Gan break into the basket and slam over the defenders.
However, the Trail Blazers’ tactical direction with the Princeton System received strong support from Ah Gan.
As the absolute core of the team, if Ah Gan said decisively, "I don’t want to play this tactic," Carell would quickly disappear from the Blazers’ training camp.
Take him to Hawaii for a few days as compensation for his spirits, and everyone could leave as friends.
In Portland, Ah Gan wasn’t Chicago’s Jordan; holding four championship rings, he had the absolute say in tactics.
If he wanted to make his stats look good, monopolize the ball, score more, and take another scoring title, he could do so without any issue.
Also, playing that way, it would still be unclear who would come out on top in 1991, and the Blazers would still have tremendous control.
After all, with the example of 1987 right there, even if the league banned isolation plays, there would still be ways if you really wanted.
But Gan Guoyang did not do so, and after the preseason ended and Carell had to return to Princeton to continue his head coaching job, Gan Guoyang kept Carell’s phone number, indicating he would often call to consult him on Princeton Offense-related issues.
He was the most supportive and understanding Blazer of using the Princeton System.
During daily practice, he often participated in discussions, pondering the details and key points of tactics, understanding the inner logic of how this system operated.
This led Bobby Berman to suspect: "Sonny, do you want to become a head coach?"
Gan Guoyang: "To prevent you from defecting, I think it’s necessary to understand some of the coach’s work content."
"I won’t defect!"
"Better to be safe than sorry."
Gan Guoyang explained to others, "I think this system is interesting, and playing this way will be fun."
But clearly, Gan Guoyang had more long-term thoughts; he supported the coaching staff’s decision.
In 1987 and 1988, the Trail Blazers did the same; they had championship experience but did not stick to conventions and instead sought innovation and change.
New tactical playstyles continued to be developed, new ideas were injected into the team, and young players were discovered and utilized.
At that time, the Trail Blazers were decaying and regenerating simultaneously, so they could quickly recover from the setback of 1989, swiftly pull up a new championship lineup, and achieve greater success.
Self-innovation must not stop for a moment; it is the price to keep the title of King of the Forest.
Time came to November 2, 1990, and the 1990-1991 season of the Trail Blazers unfolded, and their first game was against the Houston Rockets at home.
Before the start of the game, Gan Guoyang attended the team’s tactical meeting—after having four coaches, the Trail Blazers’ coaching team would hold tactical meetings before each game.
When discussing whether to use the Princeton System during the game and for how long, assistant coach John Wetzell said, "We can try this system in the first half of the game, which might cause the players to be unaccustomed, and we may fall behind. In the second half, we can revert to the tactical rhythm familiar from last season to turn the situation around."
John Wetzell, who had long-term experience serving as an assistant coach in the league, was very familiar with the situation of various teams.
He once coached the Phoenix Suns for a short time, but at that point, the Suns were deep in a drug crisis, and Wetzell was merely a placeholder, quickly leaving the head coaching position during the sweep.
After coming to the Trail Blazers, his primary job content was pre-match preparation, meticulously researching each match’s opponent, and providing key pointers to the head coach and players.
Conversely, another assistant coach, Jack Shaloff, mainly worked on post-match summaries. Shaloff had been a head coach at the University of Seattle and had a more holistic understanding of the team’s work, knowing how to criticize and motivate players.
Wetzell’s advice was quite reasonable—new systems and tactics need time to adapt slowly.
Half-time is enough to secure the victory, we should save half of the game for our familiar tactics.
But Ah Gan had a different opinion, he said: "John’s idea is great, but I think we can play the Princeton Offense for three and a half quarters, so we can digest it faster."
Weitzer said: "What if we fall behind and lose the game?"
Gan Guoyang said: "That’s why I saved half a quarter. Playing against Houston, half a quarter is enough for a comeback."
Everyone in the locker room familiar with Ah Gan laughed, this guy is always so confident, so pretentious.
The key is, as much as he shows off, in the end, he always succeeds.
Weitzer didn’t know Ah Gan well enough, so he said somewhat worriedly: "Houston is different this year, they’ve strengthened their lineup, they’re in good shape, they..."
At this moment, Adelman came over, patted Weitzer on the shoulder, and said: "Don’t worry John, leave it to Ah Gan. If we lose in the end, he’ll take all the responsibility. Shalov, don’t forget to review Ah Gan’s decision in the post-game summary."
Adelman knew Gan Guoyang very well. In the 1990-1991 season, Gan Guoyang had entered his prime.
In terms of physical conditioning, he maintained the vigorous energy of his youth, unparalleled strength and explosive power, and his weight was well controlled.
Skill-wise, Gan Guoyang had reached mastery. There was no technical move he didn’t know how to perform, and he had various offensive weapons at his fingertips. Yet, he also embodied mastery through simplicity, using the most straightforward moves in regular play, leaving opponents clueless about which technique he would use at critical moments.
This guy had truly reached the realm of the heavy sword without edge, the height of effortless skill, not just approaching it as he was around 1988, but actually achieving it.
In terms of game experience, Gan Guoyang had fought many tough and fierce battles, consistently engaged in high-level play, saved the team in critical moments numerous times as a mistake control master, with a smart, flexible mind, and an eager willingness to learn, acting as the team’s brain on the court.
He was absolutely trustworthy, the foundation of the Portland Trail Blazers’ unity, communication cost within the team was low, everyone had a focus, preventing fragmentation and secret struggles between small groups.
Of course, there were conflicts, but victory would dispel all elements of instability.
Under Adelman’s reassurance, John Weitzer nodded.
As a former opponent, Weitzer knew how terrifying Ah Gan was. Now on the same team, he still wasn’t used to the sense of security that Ah Gan brought.
At 7:30 in the evening, the Trail Blazers and the Rockets made their appearance at the Memorial Coliseum.
It was another season opener, the team’s fifth championship banner from its history was raised to the ceiling of the arena before the game, and the cheers of Portland fans would continue for the whole season, and likely into June.
The advantage of a championship opener is that the fans’ enthusiasm would reach a peak, and the team’s morale would be very high.
The disadvantage is that the players’ attention could be easily distracted by things outside of the game, lacking focus.
In the 1989-1990 season, the entire Trail Blazers team was united in erasing the disgrace of the 1989 season, aiming to return to the top of the league.
Now that the goal had been achieved, it was natural for the players to have relaxed a bit mentally.
Moreover, with Hornersek and Divac traded away and new members joining, the tacit understanding between the players was not as good as last season.
This was also the reason why Gan Guoyang insisted on playing three and a half quarters of the Princeton Offense; he hoped to stimulate the tactical synergy of the new team with this "Civilian System" and bring the team into form sooner.
Compared to that, the Houston Rockets, forced to witness the Trail Blazers’ championship ring ceremony from the bench, were filled with resentment, swearing to stir up trouble in the Memorial Coliseum.
John Weitzer’s pre-game prediction was not wrong; after reorganizing and strengthening their team, this year’s Houston Rockets were slowly emerging from the shadows of the Twin Towers’ collapse and the drug crisis.
In September, when the Trail Blazers and Bulls started an arms race by successively welcoming Reggie Lewis and Buck-Williams, the Houston Rockets made an important trade deal as well.
They traded veteran John Lucas and Tim McCormick to the Atlanta Hawks, acquiring Roy Mable and Kenny Smith.
At the time, this trade wasn’t eye-catching; Kenny Smith had been traded to the Hawks from the King last season, but he didn’t acclimate well to the team, averaging only 7 points and 4 assists per game before quickly being discarded by the Hawks and landing with the Rockets.
In reality, Kenny Smith was a very talented player, and his arrival filled the void at the point guard position for the Rockets.
Coupled with Vernon Maxwell whom the Rockets gained from a trade with the Spurs, the Rockets’ backcourt was rejuvenated.
These two young guards were dynamic and had range, especially with their long-distance shooting abilities, which stood out. Their playstyle was modern, fitting with the NBA’s current development trend.
In the frontcourt, after trading away Sampson, the Rockets brought in Audie Norris to anchor the power forward position.
This year, they signed free agents Matt Brad and Dave Filteau, both centers.
The gaps left by the fall of the Twin Towers were gradually being filled.
The most important thing was that Olajuwon was still with the Rockets. As long as he was there, the Rockets still had hope.
He was always Gan Guoyang’s strongest challenger in the Western Conference. As Gan Guoyang continued to improve, Olajuwon was also elevating and purifying himself.
Gradually converting to Islam, he carried less ferocity and more tranquility and peace in his eyes when standing on the court.
But when facing Ah Gan, his heart still couldn’t stay calm, unable to fully focus and confront him.
Every time he saw Ah Gan’s face, he felt the urge to fight him—even though he knew he couldn’t win, he just wanted to fight.
And how to suppress this impulse, to immerse himself fully in basketball rather than personal emotions, was what led Olajuwon to make a pilgrimage to Mecca in the future, to seek the answer within his heart.
