On the 2nd, Pat Riley led the Heat to New York.
The Heat were looking solid this season, sitting at 12-4 and ranked third in the Eastern Conference.
Running point was All-Star Tim Hardaway, a dude with insane handles and an explosive first step. Magic Johnson once described his moves like this: "By the time you hear two bangs, Hardaway's already gone."
Future Hall of Famer Chris Mullin once said Hardaway was one of the best guards of his era.
On the wing, the Heat had Jamal Mashburn, the fourth pick in the '93 draft, who was on his way to becoming an All-Star.
Backing him up was Dan Majerle, an All-Star swingman known for his defense and three-point shooting.
Inside, Miami had PJ Brown and Alonzo Mourning—one was a defensive specialist, and the other was a straight-up superstar, ranked as the fifth-best center in the league. Both were tough as hell, playing that gritty, no-nonsense style.
Pat Riley had coached the Knicks for four seasons, guiding Patrick Ewing through his prime. But unlike his time with the Lakers, he never brought a championship to New York. Eventually, he bounced and took his talents to South Beach.
Riley was always a hot topic for the New York media, so as soon as the Heat landed, they held a press conference at the team hotel.
"Pat, how confident are you about tomorrow's game?" a reporter from The New York Times asked.
"I go into every game confident," Riley said coolly.
"Do you think the Knicks have a real shot at the championship this season?" another reporter, this time from New York Sports Daily, asked.
Riley paused for a moment, then said, "I caught the Knicks-Kings game the other night. Honestly, I wanted to draft that Chinese rookie they got. I even called up the front office about it, but no luck."
He shrugged, looking genuinely disappointed.
"Since he became the starting power forward, he's been putting in work—strong post game, a solid outside shot, crazy athleticism, runs the break well, and plays tough defense. Even Shawn Kemp got put on a poster. It's a shame we didn't take him last June."
Then, Riley shifted gears.
"If the Knicks wanna win a championship, though, I still see some flaws in their roster."
"What flaws?" another reporter asked.
Riley smirked. "The battle for touches in the paint."
A few reporters looked confused. "Touches in the paint?"
"Yeah," Riley nodded. "The way the ball is shared down low."
Then, with a knowing smile, he continued, "Zhao Dong's been playing great. I think Ewing should share some of his touches and shots with him—it'd be the smart move."
"That don't sound right."
In the press section, Zhang Heli muttered to Sun Zhenping, "This man Riley is trying to stir the pot."
"But he's got a point," Sun Zhenping said.
Zhang Heli chuckled. "See? If you think that, others do too. But here's the thing—Ewing is the Knicks. If Zhao Dong starts taking more touches, Ewing and the fans will turn on him. That's gonna cause problems, and once there's tension in the locker room, the team could collapse."
Sun Zhenping thought for a second, then wiped the sweat off his forehead. He looked at Riley, who was still smirking. "Man, this dude really is The Godfather."
"No cap," Zhang Heli agreed.
"I just hope Zhao Dong doesn't try to fight for more touches."
Zhang Heli sighed. "Who knows? You know how he is."
At that moment, Zhao Dong received a system task notification.
Team Sniper Mission: Lead the team to victory. Reward: 5 attribute points.
"Shit," Zhao Dong muttered when he saw it.
In his previous sniper missions, there were multiple objectives to choose from. This time? Just one—win. That meant tomorrow's game was gonna be brutal. The system was basically telling him their chances were slim, and the only thing that mattered was pulling out the W.
And lead the team? That had to mean Ewing was about to be a no-show again.
Zhao Dong rubbed his buzz cut, thinking, Damn, Ewing been partying too much lately?
Then, another mission popped up.
Superstar Sniper Mission:
Block Alonzo Mourning 5 times (can't get blocked more than twice).
Hold Mourning to 12 points or less.
Keep Mourning under 6 rebounds.
Limit Mourning's shooting to under 35%.
Rewards: 1 skill point per completed task. If all are completed, receive Two Iron Kidneys from Mourning.
"Man, fuck this system!" Zhao Dong cursed. "My kidneys are fine! I can go all night! I don't need no damn Mourning kidneys! Y'all tryna scam me into another lottery? Last time was straight-up robbery."
The objectives were tough as hell, too.
Zhao Dong knew Mourning well.
The dude was a warrior—built strong, crazy competitive, and elite on defense. At 6'9", 240 lbs, with a 7'6" wingspan, he was a monster in the paint.
A second-overall pick in '92, Mourning put up 21 and 10 in his rookie season. People called him the best center outside the Big Four—Shaq, Hakeem, David Robinson, and Ewing. Some even argued he was a top-five big man.
His offense was decent but rough around the edges. Defense, though? Different story. He was a shot-blocking menace, tough as nails, with a rock-solid base and elite rim protection.
Zhao Dong remembered the infamous fight from last season—Heat vs. Knicks in the playoffs. PJ Brown had cheap-shotted Charlie Ward, and shit got real. A full-on brawl broke out, and tough guy Mourning caught hands from Larry Johnson. If people hadn't pulled him away, he might've been KO'd right there.
That fight turned the Heat and Knicks into straight-up enemies.
Blocking Mourning five times? Not easy—dude dunked a lot.
Avoiding his blocks? Tough—Mourning had a crazy highlight reel of swats. Zhao Dong would have to attack the rim smart and finish efficiently.
Keeping him under 35% shooting? His career FG% was over 50%—not easy.
And rebounds? Dude was a center, while Zhao Dong was a forward. Getting stops and keeping him off the glass would be a challenge, especially if Ewing wasn't locked in defensively.
Later that night, highlights from the Heat's press conference hit TV.
Knicks fans went off.
They flooded the team's phone lines, calling every number they could.
"No one's taking Ewing from us! He's our guy!"
"Zhao Dong is our future, not our present! We need Ewing to lead us to a championship!"
"At crunch time, we only trust Ewing! Give him the ball!"
The staff was scrambling. Eventually, they just unplugged the damn phone lines.
New York was heated.
And tomorrow night, the Garden was gonna be on fire.
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