At the start of the third quarter at the Compaq Center, Barkley stepped back on the court, looking locked in and ready to go.
The Rockets had possession, and Barkley set up in the low post on the right wing.
Zhao Dong played him on the side, not bodying up too much, trying to cut off the passing lane.
Suddenly, Barkley spun baseline, cutting straight into the paint and signaling for the ball.
Zhao Dong's footwork wasn't quick enough to keep up—Barkley had him beat.
Swish!
Ewing stepped up to contest, but Barkley finished with a smooth layup.
This time, he didn't talk trash—just gave Zhao Dong a long stare before jogging back on defense.
Zhao Dong, now focused more on setting screens and crashing the glass, knew he was close to hitting his 30-point target—just five points away.
First, he pulled Barkley out of the paint, then quickly spun back to crash the boards.
But before he could even get a chance at the rebound, Ewing found Allan Houston, who drilled a mid-range jumper.
Back on defense, Barkley went right back to work on the right block.
Zhao Dong knew his lateral movement wasn't keeping up, so he switched up and played him straight up.
Barkley saw the change and smirked—he knew exactly what to do.
He backed down hard, using his signature big-body post game.
Bang. Bang. He pounded the ball into the floor, using his hip and lower body to shove Zhao Dong backward.
It was classic Barkley—like a bulldozer in the paint.
Just as he was about to drop in a hook shot, Oakley came over for the double.
Barkley reacted fast, spinning baseline to escape.
Zhao Dong was ready. As soon as Barkley turned, Zhao Dong stepped up and sent his shot flying.
Smack!
The ball rocketed away, and the crowd gasped.
Doug Collins laughed in the NBC booth. "Man, Barkley's having a tough time today."
Marv Albert added, "He needs to adjust before it's too late."
Next possession, Rockets ball again.
Barkley, frustrated, pulled out to mid-range, caught the ball, and went to work.
Two quick dribbles. A shoulder fake. Fadeaway jumper.
Zhao Dong lunged, fingertips brushing the ball—too late.
Swish!
Zhao Dong shook his head. That was tough to guard.
Back down the court, Ewing missed a mid-range shot. Oakley and Olajuwon fought for the board, tipping the ball up.
Right where Zhao Dong and Barkley were standing.
Both of them jumped.
Barkley threw his body into Zhao Dong, using that big-ass frame to clear space.
Rebound, Barkley.
Despite declining athleticism, his nose for the ball was still elite—he once pulled down 33 in a game.
Next play, Olajuwon worked against Ewing. Spin move. He had a clear path to the rim.
Zhao Dong read it, slid over, and stripped the ball right out of his hands.
Fast break.
Charlie Ward picked it up and pushed it.
Zhao Dong took off down the middle, sprinting straight to the hoop.
Ward pulled left, dragging the Rockets' point guard with him.
Houston stopped at the right-wing three-point line, keeping his defender locked.
Oakley took Drexler out of the play.
It was wide open.
Zhao Dong reached the top of the arc, Barkley scrambling beside him.
Ward zipped the pass.
Zhao Dong caught it, hesitated for a split-second.
Barkley lunged.
Too late.
Zhao Dong exploded toward the rim.
Barkley turned to contest—too slow.
BOOM!
Zhao Dong threw it down over him.
The arena erupted.
Doug Collins shouted, "Ohhh! That's ANOTHER poster! Zhao Dong just put Barkley on one AGAIN!"
Marv Albert chuckled, "Barkley's gotta be sick of this rookie."
On CCTV, Zhang Heli and Sun Zhenping nearly lost their minds.
Barkley got up, breathing hard, just as Zhao Dong landed.
They bumped shoulders, staring each other down.
"I'm takin' you out tonight," Zhao Dong growled.
Barkley glared. "You ain't built like that, rookie."
Zhao Dong smirked. "Give it time—you'll feel just as helpless as you did against MJ. You'll hit that same damn wall."
Barkley clenched his fists. "Boy, you couldn't even wipe Jordan's ass."
Zhao Dong walked away, laughing. "I'll beat him. And you'll still be kissing his ass."
Barkley damn near lost it.
"NBC needs a lip reader just for this game," Doug Collins joked.
"That'd be gold," Marv laughed.
Back to defense.
Zhao Dong amped up his pressure on Olajuwon.
Tonight, he had multiple objectives—team win, sniper task, and shutting down Hakeem.
Barkley's challenge was almost finished, but Olajuwon still needed one more block or steal.
A few possessions later—Olajuwon had position.
Quick shake. He got Ewing off-balance.
Spin move. Layup attempt.
Zhao Dong had been tracking him the whole way.
BAM!
Blocked off the glass.
"Ohhh! The rookie's got Olajuwon again!"
Knicks' ball.
Ewing missed another jumper, but Oakley hustled and grabbed the board.
Kicked it out to Zhao Dong, who was just outside the paint.
One dribble.
Pulled up for the jumper.
Clank.
"Ahh, damn, had the look," Zhang Heli sighed.
Barkley crashed the paint, securing the rebound.
Zhao Dong timed it perfectly—stripped the ball mid-air and grabbed it back.
"Oh! Snatched it away!" Sun Zhenping shouted.
Zhao Dong faked a pass, then attacked.
Olajuwon rotated.
Ewing called for the ball—Zhao Dong ignored him.
He had one goal.
A poster on Hakeem the Dream.
He attacked the rim.
Olajuwon planted his feet, ready to contest.
Zhao Dong faked the shot.
Barkley bit—jumped early.
So did Olajuwon.
Zhao Dong reset mid-air.
Then launched.
BOOM!
Body-to-body. Over Hakeem. One-hand throwdown.
The arena went dead silent.
The rim screamed under the force.
Zhao Dong hung there, looking down at Olajuwon, who had stumbled to the floor.
Then he dropped down, standing over him.
"My name's Zhao Dong. But you can call me Wolf King."
He wiped his hands.
"Thanks for welcoming me to the NBA. That's my gift to you."
Olajuwon's eyes burned. "Damn rookie."
Barkley stormed over, shoving Zhao Dong away.
"Move!"
Oakley stepped up, but Zhao Dong waved him off.
"Let's go."
He walked away, laughing.
The dunk over Hakeem?
That was the exclamation point.
At the end of the third quarter, Knicks up 83-72.
The Rockets had pulled one point back, but Zhao Dong had put the whole league on notice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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