Chapter 861: Chapter 44 Muses_2
Magic Johnson had to admit at this moment that the Lakers and the Trail Blazers were no longer on the same level.
In the fourth game, the Trail Blazers still weren’t in great form, while the Lakers continued to showcase beautiful offensive plays. Johnson hadn’t given up hope for victory.
In the first half, they once led the Trail Blazers by 11 points, and as the fourth quarter began, they were still ahead by 7 points.
But in the fourth quarter, the Trail Blazers slowly chipped away at the lead with their methodical and efficient offense combined with detailed and near-perfect tenacious defense.
Under the Princeton System, the Trail Blazers exuded an unhurried elegance, which was something Carell always emphasized, saying, "Slow is fast."
The calm and steady style of the Trail Blazers highlighted the anxiety of the Lakers; they wanted to win this game and didn’t want the series to end in Los Angeles.
But the more impatient they became, the worse their performance got. The players began losing focus and committed unnecessary turnovers.
Shots that seemed destined to score missed, defensive mistakes piled up, and the Trail Blazers’ Princeton offense exploited their weaknesses relentlessly.
The biggest characteristic of the Princeton System is that when the opponent’s defensive line is pierced, the collapse happens rapidly, like a flood breaking through a dam.
It’s the hallmark of system-driven offense; it drills into and widens the gap in the opponent’s defense, bleeding them dry until they can no longer hold their ground.
The weakness of the system-driven offense is that if its flow is disrupted and suppressed, it can lead to prolonged scoring droughts and falling behind.
This is when star players are needed to stabilize the situation—the Trail Blazers had the League’s most dependable anchor, Gan Guoyang.
The Trail Blazers steadily closed the gap, and when the margin shrank to 1 point, Johnson chose to take a forced three-point shot from the perimeter—a terrible decision.
The shot didn’t go in. Gan Guoyang grabbed the defensive rebound, and in that moment, every Lakers player and fan inside the arena had the same thought: It’s over, we’re about to lose the lead.
Gan Guoyang passed the ball to Terry Porter. Porter and Gan Guoyang’s pick-and-roll was a frequently used tactic in crucial moments.
But this time, Porter and Gan Guoyang faked the pick-and-roll. Using the screen, Porter suddenly accelerated toward the basket, leaving Byron Scott behind, and scored with a left-handed layup!
The Trail Blazers successfully took the lead. There was one minute left in the fourth game—or perhaps, one minute in the series.
The Trail Blazers relied on Ah Gan, but didn’t fully depend on him. In this play, Porter made full use of Gan Guoyang’s defensive draw, exploiting the moment everyone expected Ah Gan to take the ball, and seized the defensive gap to drive to the basket and score, turning the game around.
Don Nelson decided not to call timeout, letting the players determine their own strategy in the final moments.
Magic Johnson used his strong hips to back down Reggie Lewis in the interior, but was double-teamed by Gan Guoyang.
Johnson executed a beautiful no-look, behind-the-head pass to Duckworth, but Duckworth’s layup was blocked from behind by Sabonis, who came over on the help defense.
Sabonis secured possession; the Trail Blazers were now on offense. At this point, Lakers fans knew the countdown of their season had begun.
Gan Guoyang and Porter ran another high pick-and-roll, but this time it was an actual pick-and-roll. Gan Guoyang cut to the basket, received Porter’s pass, and with a slick spin move, drove between Duckworth and Sam Perkins, finishing with a light dunk—this was a move Karl Malone would never be able to pull off at such a critical time. Malone could only barrel down the lane with brute force, whereas Ah Gan used nimble footwork to exploit holes in the defense.
The Lakers’ defense had lost both focus and intensity; a simple pick-and-roll had completely demolished the giant defensive structure Nelson had painstakingly built.
The Lakers’ interior players realized that Ah Gan and Malone were fundamentally different breeds of players; defending them required entirely different approaches.
But by the time they realized this, it was too late—the series was over.
Don Nelson finally called a timeout; he had a feeling this might be his last game as head coach of the Lakers.
Here in Los Angeles, he was so close to winning a championship. For two years, he coached a dominant center, and he had his dream point guard.
Yet he still hadn’t achieved what he truly wanted—not just the title, not just glory, but something deeper about basketball, which eluded him in Los Angeles.
In this glamorous city, basketball was a spectacle driven by talent. It demanded excitement and drama, wild sprints, and exceptional skill—yet it lacked a sense of solitude and purity.
Sometimes, under California’s radiant sunshine, Nelson found himself longing for Milwaukee’s icy landscapes.
There, he had always complained about the lack of talent, the absence of the big men he desired, which forced him to innovate strange lineups and unorthodox strategies.
But in four seasons with the Lakers, he had everything he once wished for, only to realize it might not be what he truly wanted.
What he truly desired was something crazier, more thrilling, more directly connected to basketball itself. He no longer wanted to bask in the spotlight here.
For the final play, Don Nelson devised an extraordinarily bold three-point strategy. He instructed Sam Perkins to step out, and after running his route, catch the ball at the top of the arc and shoot the three-pointer directly.
Sam Perkins wasn’t a strong three-point shooter. During the regular season, he averaged 0.9 attempts and 0.2 makes per game, with a success rate of less than 30%—he could toss up a shot occasionally, but whether it would go in depended on luck.
"Coach, this... this strategy? We’ve never practiced it."
