Doug Collins commented on the NBC live broadcast: "Unlike the last game, Karl Malone got torched in the low post. Zhao Dong was straight-up cooking him, knocking down back-to-back close-range jumpers. The Jazz's double-team ain't working, and Malone can't guard him one-on-one. His efficiency is through the roof."
Marv Albert smiled and said, "I gotta say, Zhao Dong's low-post game is already at an elite All-Star level."
"As far as the low post goes, yeah, no doubt. Otherwise, he wouldn't be drawing double teams like this. If you got defenses sending doubles at you consistently, that means you're at an All-Star level," Doug Collins nodded.
Marv added, "And it's not just the low post. Zhao Dong got a smooth mid-range game and can stretch it out way beyond the three-point line. His offensive range is bigger than Malone's. Honestly, I think he's even more of a threat than Malone on offense."
Doug said, "If the Jazz ain't gonna double him early, they gotta be quicker on rotations and get that help before Zhao Dong even goes up for the shot."
Marv nodded. "Exactly."
Jazz possession.
Malone and Stockton ran their signature pick-and-roll at the top of the key. As Stockton attacked the paint, Malone didn't roll to the basket but instead drifted to the left wing.
This was a classic play for the Black and White Duo—Stockton pulled the defense, and Malone popped out for the jumper.
As Malone moved, he swung his elbows.
This was part of his usual bag—keeping defenders off him with those deadly 55 cm arms. Ain't nobody in the league trying to get in the way of those, not even the Bigs.
But Zhao Dong wasn't like the others.
Stockton, seeing Ewing and Oakley closing in, dished the ball to Malone.
As Malone caught it, he saw Zhao Dong charging at him and immediately swung his right elbow.
BANG!
Zhao Dong gritted his teeth, took the hit straight to the chest, and still managed to cut off the passing lane, intercepting Stockton's pass.
That steal completely shut down the Jazz's pick-and-roll action.
"OH, BEAUTIFUL! THAT'S AN INSANE CLOSE-RANGE STEAL! AND HE TOOK AN ELBOW FROM MALONE!"
The Madison Square Garden crowd erupted as Zhao Dong took off down the court. Malone couldn't keep up—he was left in the dust.
BANG!
Zhao Dong exploded into the paint, launched himself into the air, and rocked the Garden with a vicious tomahawk slam.
"Mailman! I'm 'bout to fuck you up today! I'm gonna own you on and off this damn court! Let's see if you still got the nerve to act tough in front of me!"
As he landed, he turned and barked at Malone, his eyes filled with pure fire.
"You—"
Malone clenched his teeth in rage.
"YEAHHH!"
The fans who heard Zhao Dong's trash talk went absolutely nuts.
Click! Click! Click!
Behind the baseline, cameras flashed nonstop, capturing the heated moment between Zhao Dong and Malone.
BANG!
On the next possession, Malone tried to go at Zhao Dong in the low post. But Zhao Dong read it, blocked his knee, and shut that shit down.
"WOW!"
Malone tried to power up for a dunk, but Zhao Dong swatted it, sending him crashing to the floor with an elbow straight to the chest.
Malone gasped, struggling to breathe as the pain shot through his ribs.
Zhao Dong leaned in close, his voice low and menacing.
"You wanna flex in front of the cameras? You wanna act tough? I'ma make you pay. Get ready to leave New York on a damn stretcher."
"GET OFF ME!"
Malone shoved Zhao Dong away, his face twisted in frustration.
Zhao Dong hit the floor but just laughed.
"Psycho!"
Malone spat, rubbing his chest. He could still feel the sting from those elbows, and it pissed him off.
But for the rest of the quarter, no matter how tough Malone was, he stopped going at Zhao Dong in the post. He didn't want to risk another elbow war. Even his pick-and-roll game changed—whenever Zhao Dong closed in, he rushed his shot, his rhythm completely thrown off.
Miss after miss.
Seven minutes into the first quarter, Knicks up 18-11.
Jazz coach Jerry Sloan had seen enough. He pulled Malone from the game.
Malone's stat line: 1-for-6 shooting, 2 points, 1 board, 2 blocks against, 1 turnover.
A straight-up nightmare.
Meanwhile, Van Gundy looked at Zhao Dong and called for a sub.
"Zhao Dong, you're out."
"No, Coach, I'm good. I wanna keep playing."
"Malone hit you with at least ten elbows and kneed you a few times. You really don't need a breather?"
"Nah, he's weak today. He ain't got much in him."
Van Gundy thought about it. With Malone on the bench, he decided to let Zhao Dong take over.
"Alright. With Malone out, attack more in the low post."
Van Gundy also pulled Ewing, giving Zhao Dong full offensive control. It was his reward for locking down Malone.
Zhao Dong didn't hesitate. With Charles out and Charlie Ward running point, he went straight to work.
Charlie Ward, knowing Zhao Dong's rep, didn't dare mess around. He'd seen what happened to Mourning and Malone—if Zhao Dong wanted the ball, he was getting the damn ball.
In the next few minutes, Zhao Dong kept working the low post. No reckless drives, just smooth, controlled jumpers. His low-post footwork was deadly, and his shooting touch was automatic.
70% shooting.
For comparison, even Tim Duncan only hit 70% at the rim and 44% on close-range jumpers in his prime. If Zhao Dong could keep this up, defenses would have no choice but to start doubling him early—just like they did to Shaq.
End of the first quarter:
Zhao Dong's stat line: 6-for-8 FG, 3-for-4 FT, 15 points, 3 rebounds, 1 steal, 2 blocks, 1 turnover, 1 foul.
Even he was surprised. He kept shaking defenders off with ease, and their defensive reads were always a step late.
Was this the Gold Medal Skill at work?
If he could dominate like this every game, he wouldn't even need to expand his offensive arsenal. His elite low-post game and 93-rated shooting would be more than enough to own the paint.
But he knew it wouldn't last forever.
Teams would adjust. The Jazz would speed up their defensive help, send quicker doubles, and try to disrupt his rhythm.
But for now?
He was feasting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Do you want to read Advanced Chapters?
Visit this link:
Påtreon.com/Fanficlord03