Chapter 855: Chapter 42: Omnipotent_2
The showdown with Larry Bird thrilled him; their rivalry had begun before the 1979 NCAA Finals.
It was 1978 in Lexington, Kentucky, when Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, still in college, were selected to participate in the World Invitational Tournament. As teammates for Team USA, they went against the youth national teams of the Soviet Union, Cuba, and Yugoslavia.
Bird and Johnson were only substitutes, but their synergy in team practices completely overshadowed the starting lineup. Their talent was so dazzling that the so-called starters were no match for them.
For a variety of reasons, they communicated very little, but on the court, they had an unspoken harmony and deeply remembered one another.
Reflecting on his encounters with Larry Bird, the friendship, Johnson felt a yearning. He thought how wonderful it would be to meet the Celtics again in the Finals.
But no, it seemed unlikely—unless both teams could overcome terrifying opponents like the Trail Blazers and the Bulls this year.
Thinking of the Blazers and Ah Gan, Johnson felt a tightness in his chest. Now sitting on the bus heading to the hotel, he rolled down the window to let in the fresh air.
The air was crystal clear after the recent rain. Even in the evening, from the elevated highway, one could still catch a distant view of Mount Hood towering among the clouds, so massive and awe-inspiring.
Johnson knew that one of Ah Gan’s nicknames was "Hood," symbolizing his unreachability on the basketball court.
Arriving at the hotel, Johnson locked himself in his room to watch game footage, instead of heading out for fun like he would in other cities.
The Lakers had once been notorious for their wild ways, but ever since James Worthy’s disgrace from being caught soliciting, the team’s demeanor had toned down significantly.
AC Green contributed to this conservative shift, but the main reason was that the Lakers knew they would face an extraordinarily tough matchup in Portland.
No one was in the mood for pleasure-seeking, especially in Portland, where even the prostitutes would root for the Trail Blazers. Johnson didn’t want to hear mid-act, "You’re not good enough; you’ll lose to Ah Gan." It would kill his vibe entirely.
The atmosphere during the Lakers’ pre-game training was thick with tension; they had been preparing for this series for a long time.
Don Nelson’s face was filled with anxiety. This was his fourth season with the Lakers, and they needed a breakthrough.
Reaching the Finals in 1989 had been his best chance for glory, but they fell short.
Last year’s shocking loss to the Spurs had drawn heavy criticism toward Don Nelson.
If the team failed to make strides this year, Nelson’s position as head coach of the Lakers would be in jeopardy.
In reality, Nelson’s record against the Trail Blazers wasn’t bad. After all, the Lakers were the only team in the past seven years to defeat the Blazers in the playoffs.
Under Nelson’s guidance, Magic Johnson had become a super versatile player. Nelson had remarked more than once, "Magic’s status and abilities are underrated. Without the Blazers and Ah Gan, he would unquestionably be the greatest player in NBA history, bar none."
But now, they were facing Ah Gan, the overwhelming shadow looming over the Western Conference. Before the game, Nelson gave the team a strict mandate: under no circumstances could Ah Gan score more than 40 points in the first game.
In 1987 and 1988, the Lakers had been single-handedly destroyed by Ah Gan. Particularly in 1988, the Blazers came back from a 0-2 deficit to win four straight games and reach the Finals.
Don Nelson still remembered Game 5’s critical "pivotal battle." It was Gan Guoyang’s step-back three-pointer that turned the tide, piercing Nelson’s heart like a dagger.
That three-pointer often crept into Nelson’s dreams, waking him in a cold sweat. Even after the Lakers’ revenge victory in 1989, Nelson couldn’t let it go.
Because he knew that they hadn’t defeated a full-strength Trail Blazers team, let alone subdued Ah Gan.
The Lakers’ pervasive anxiety wasn’t helpful for their matchup against the Blazers.
Sometimes, fully relaxing was the only way to unleash true potential.
By contrast, the Trail Blazers exuded an air of ease across the board.
In a pre-game interview, Gan Guoyang spoke about the Lakers and the history of their rivalry. He said, "The past doesn’t matter; the present is everything. We’ve both won and lost, but it’s like rolling dice—you can’t use past results to predict the next roll. Each time is a new scenario. The Lakers are new, and so are the Blazers."
Gan Guoyang was right. The Lakers had transformed into a defensively ferocious team, and the Blazers were evolving too.
Over the course of a season, their Princeton offensive system had become increasingly refined. The players’ movement off-ball and tactical coordination had grown more polished.
In the first-round series against the Supersonics, their SOS defense hardly posed a threat to the Blazers. Their double-team pressure couldn’t keep up with the Blazers’ ball movement.
What the Princeton System brought to the Blazers ran deeper than tactical schemes—it instilled a philosophy of passing and movement that proved far more useful and reliable than set plays.
At the start of the season, many were skeptical of the Princeton system. Some even opposed it, questioning why a champion team needed to change.
But with Ah Gan’s strong endorsement and Carell’s assistance, the Princeton System gradually took root and flourished within the Blazers.
Over the years, with meticulous management and the warm light of the "Sun’s Glory," the Trail Blazers had cultivated an excellent basketball culture—it was fertile ground.
