On the NBC live broadcast, Doug Collins said, "It's obvious that Shawn Kemp stopped attacking the basket. That's unexpected. Looks like Zhao Dong's tough-ass defense made the big man hesitate."
"Nah, he's just avoiding unnecessary injuries. Playing like Zhao Dong is reckless—dude could end his career any time. Kemp's making the smart play here," Marv Albert responded.
Doug Collins was stunned. Shit, if Shawn Kemp had been "smart," the Sonics might've won the chip last season, and he could've been the Finals MVP.
At halftime, back in the locker room, Jeff Van Gundy looked at Chris Childs and Charlie Ward. "Get the ball to Zhao Dong more in the second half."
This was a back-to-back game, and the Sonics were no joke. He hadn't emphasized winning, but with Zhao Dong hooping like this, he saw a real shot. No way he was giving up now.
He also noticed Zhao Dong barely touched the ball in the last part of the second quarter. Charlie Ward had only given him one look. That needed to change.
He wasn't about to take touches away from Patrick Ewing, but Zhao Dong needed more shots. The front office wanted that too.
Chris Childs nodded. "Got it, coach. I'll get him the ball."
Charlie Ward hesitated. "If he's open, I'll see him."
He didn't really rock with Zhao Dong. Dude wasn't humble like most Asian players he'd seen. Too aggressive, too in-your-face. So he wasn't in a rush to pass it.
Van Gundy glanced at Ward but nodded. He still valued his defense. The kid fit his system.
Zhao Dong caught the look too. Yeah, I been peeped that shit. Ward only passed to him when he had no other choice. That's why Zhao Dong had been drifting further outside—only way to control the rock himself.
Third quarter started. Zhao Dong and Ewing were back, Larry Johnson slid to the three, with John Starks and Charlie Ward in the backcourt.
Zhao Dong knew this lineup meant fewer touches. Ewing, Johnson, and Starks all wanted their shots. And with Ward at the point? Forget about it.
Sure enough, first four minutes in, he didn't touch the rock once. Only bucket he got was off an offensive board—a little hook over Kemp.
Ewing bricked two shots, only got one point from the line. His jumper was ice-cold. Back-to-back games weren't his thing.
Johnson was out of place at small forward and bricked both of his looks.
Starks went 1-for-2, putting up two points.
57-48, Knicks were down 9. Van Gundy called timeout and yanked Ward for Chris Childs.
"Coach, you want Larry and me to switch spots?" Zhao Dong asked.
Van Gundy and Larry Johnson both looked at him.
Johnson was down. He hated playing the three. But if he went to the low post, he'd have to bang with Kemp. His back was already fucked up. That was a problem.
Wait, was Zhao Dong trying to set him up?
"Larry's not big enough to guard Kemp," Van Gundy shook his head.
"I'll still check him," Zhao Dong said. "I'll pull him out, Larry can drop down low."
Johnson's eyes lit up. Now that sounded better.
Van Gundy thought for a second and nodded. "Alright, give it a shot. But don't start chucking threes—keep it midrange and in."
"Got it, Coach."
"Larry, work the pick-and-roll with Zhao Dong," Van Gundy added.
Timeout over, game back on.
Zhao Dong started in the post, then slid out to the right-wing three-point line. Kemp followed. Now the paint was open for Larry Johnson.
Detlef Schrempf, the Sonics' German forward, didn't switch off. Big mistake.
Zhao Dong called for it at the top of the key. "Chris!"
Childs didn't hesitate—swing pass, right on time.
Zhao Dong palmed the ball, holding it back with one hand. Kemp was half a step away, staring him down, hand on his chest.
Then, Larry Johnson rolled up for the screen.
Zhao Dong exploded off it, burning past Kemp. Schrempf switched, but it didn't matter—Zhao Dong hit the gas again, leaving him in the dust.
Now it was just him and the center, Jim McIlvaine.
Too late.
"Bang!"
McIlvaine, all 240 pounds of him, got steamrolled. Dude hit the floor like a fallen tree.
"BOOM!"
Zhao Dong threw down a vicious dunk. Madison Square Garden erupted.
"Yeahhh!" The crowd was losing it.
McIlvaine gasped for air. He felt like he just got hit by a truck. He looked up at the guy hanging on the rim and shuddered.
That was Kemp's move.
Did the Knicks just get their own Shawn Kemp?
Sonics' turn.
Kemp had seen enough. Only one dunk today? That ain't him.
Dude wanted payback. Bad.
He cut hard into the paint, and Payton lobbed it in. Kemp soared—this was about to be a murder.
But Zhao Dong had already read it. He was there. Waiting.
Kemp took off, two hands cocked back. Zhao Dong exploded up to meet him.
"BOOM!"
Kemp's force slammed into Zhao Dong's chest, pushing him down, but Zhao Dong's wingspan gave him just enough reach—hand clamped down on the ball.
The ball popped out—empty dunk.
"YEAHHH!" MSG went wild.
Zhao Dong slid to the baseline, eyes locked on the loose ball. No time to celebrate. He popped back up, ready for more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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