Chapter 916: Chapter 60: The Morning of the Champion_4
However, the game between the Trail Blazers and the Bulls happened to fall on the eighth day of the Finals cycle, thus earning the name "Eighth-Day Miracle," marking another unforgettable moment in NBA history.
This victory solidified the Trail Blazers’ dominance in the series. With three championship points in hand, two consecutive titles, and Ah Gan’s fifth championship—along with the sixth in franchise history—they were on the brink of glory.
Reporters packed the Trail Blazers’ locker room. Gan Guoyang, who usually liked to take off his jersey and wear a tank top for post-game interviews, broke his usual routine this time. He kept his tracksuit on and answered questions in the cramped, sweltering, and dingy visitors’ locker room.
He didn’t want reporters to see the bruises and wounds on his body. Who knows what kinds of stories they might spin? Better to keep them hidden.
Reporters relentlessly asked about what happened during halftime and how the team managed to turn things around in the third quarter. How did they do it?
Gan Guoyang did not delve into the details. He simply said, "It just happened like that. Many people underestimated our hunger for the championship, even though we’ve already won several. But we never let up. When we focus solely on the game itself, everything flows naturally. Once you get distracted by other things, it all starts to unravel—and it spirals downhill. Thankfully, we pulled through. We’re lucky, very lucky."
When asked about how he assessed Jordan, Gan Guoyang responded, "Let’s talk about that after the Finals. Now isn’t a good time for judgments."
Back at the hotel, the phones of Trail Blazers players were ringing off the hook, flooded with congratulations and greetings from all over the country and even worldwide.
Though they hadn’t clinched the championship yet, that incredible comeback was arguably more thrilling than winning the title itself. Sometimes, the journey is more moving than the result.
Gan Guoyang even received a call from his father. He refused to travel to Chicago for the game, insisting he stay in San Francisco to cook, saying watching two games was enough, and seeing too much was boring.
But at such a late hour, Gan Youwei had clearly stayed up to watch the live broadcast at home. There was no way he wouldn’t watch his son’s games.
He simply didn’t want to travel far from city to city, causing trouble for his son.
"I heard someone hit you," Gan Youwei wasn’t concerned about the victory or the comeback—only about his son being attacked.
"Who told you that? I’ve been playing games the whole time; how could anyone hit me?"
"Guohui said so. He told us there was a fight in the locker room during halftime and that someone hit you."
Apparently, Gan Guohui had gotten hold of some inside scoop somewhere and twisted the story by the time it reached home.
If this rumor spreads, will it become "Trail Blazers locker room brawl during halftime of Game 4"?
"Nothing like that happened. If we really fought, how could we have won in the second half? Don’t worry, Dad—nobody dares to hit me."
"You better not hit anyone either. Last year, you hit someone so badly they were disfigured. That’s not good; it’s too cruel."
"I know, I know. Didn’t I stop hitting people this year? Stop worrying about these random things..."
Aside from Gan Youwei, classmates and friends also called to congratulate him. Everyone had a busy night.
Victory released the pressure that weighed on all of them. They wouldn’t have to face a Game 5 at the opponent’s home court. The entire Trail Blazers team was feeling relaxed and upbeat.
Though Bobby Berman reminded everyone to strive for a Game 5 victory and clinch the championship to avoid complications by dragging it out."
Still, deep down, everyone hoped to secure the championship back in Portland. Last year’s home-court title celebration was still fresh in their memory.
Most importantly, this would be the Memorial Coliseum’s final Finals appearance before being replaced by a new arena next year.
If they could celebrate one last championship at Memorial Coliseum, this season would reach unparalleled perfection.
After two days of rest, on June 12, Game 5 kicked off at Chicago Stadium.
Because of the Bulls’ 1-3 deficit, ticket prices for Game 5 plummeted, as this game could very well witness the Trail Blazers securing the championship.
Chicago fans certainly didn’t want to see another red-and-black team crowned champions right in their backyard. Even if the Bulls clinched this game, the series would still be 2-3, sending them back to Portland.
Before the game started, the O’Brien Trophy was brought courtside. If the Trail Blazers won, the trophy would belong to them.
As Jordan took the court, he passed by the championship trophy, glanced at it briefly, and brushed past it.
He had endured the most torturous two days of his life, struggling painfully with self-doubt.
But in the end, he pulled himself together. Regardless of winning or losing, life and the game must go on.
Jordan remained confident. As long as the Bulls hadn’t fully lost, there was still a chance to create a miracle.
A comeback from a 1-3 deficit wasn’t unheard of in history. The Los Angeles Lakers in 1970 and the Celtics in 1981 had achieved it in the Conference Finals.
No team had ever done it in the Finals, but history is made to be rewritten.
After enduring the nightmare of Game 4, the Bulls as a team suffered but also grew.
It’s only by walking through the darkest hours and emerging on the other side that a person, a player, a team can achieve true transformation.
The beauty of sports lies in its ability to give you another chance. The question is whether you’ll seize it or let it slip away.
The fifth game, under immense pressure and driven by the need to correct their course, saw the Bulls deliver an impressive first half.
Their defense and offense regained their intensity, and Phil Jackson began to rely more heavily on Cliff Livingston, integrating him into the regular rotation.
