Inside the tunnel, the Bulls and Knicks stood opposite each other.
Jordan locked eyes with Zhao Dong and smirked. "Rookie, we're taking one at Madison Square Garden tonight..."
"Fail?" Zhao Dong cut him off.
"…Shit!" Jordan cursed. "I meant, win."
Zhao Dong scoffed. "You should regret retiring for two years, man. If you hadn't, you might've had six rings. But now? You're stuck at four, and you ain't ever becoming a god."
Jordan's expression darkened. "Hmph, let's see what you got to stop me."
As the starting lineups were introduced, the Madison Square Garden lights dimmed, leaving only two spotlights.
"Boooo!"
The crowd let loose as the Bulls were called out. But when the announcer got to Jordan, the boos mixed with applause—a nod to his undeniable greatness.
Then came the Knicks.
"Now, let's welcome Zhao Dong!"
As his name echoed, the arena erupted, the energy electric.
The lights followed each player until the entire lineup stood on the court. After warmups, everyone returned to the bench.
Zhao Dong leaned toward Lindsay, smirking. "You're a Penny fan, right? So, what about Jordan?"
Lindsay grinned. "You and him are sworn enemies, huh? You don't want me to be his fan?"
"Of course not. I'll be better than him."
"Hey, Miss Lindsay, I'm Jordan. Mind if I introduce myself?"
Zhao Dong and Lindsay turned, caught off guard. Jordan stood there, hand extended.
Lindsay got up but shook her head. "Sorry, Mr. Jordan. I'm Zhao Dong's friend. Between you two, I'm only supporting him."
Jordan blinked. A girl actually turned him down?
Zhao Dong's eyes narrowed. "Yo, MJ, you want me to escort you out?"
Jordan's face twitched before walking off with a scowl.
Lindsay rolled her eyes at Zhao Dong. "Can you act like a gentleman for once?"
From the NBC broadcast booth, Marv Albert and Matt Goukas laughed.
"Oh, looks like Jordan just took an L before the game even started!"
---
Game Start – 1997 Eastern Conference Finals
The ball went up. Zhao Dong won the tip. Knicks' possession.
As soon as he hit the left wing, Pippen was on him, smothering him. No space to breathe.
But Zhao Dong wasn't the same player from the regular season. He suddenly exploded toward the sideline, using his right arm to hold off Pippen.
"Shit!" Pippen stumbled, giving Zhao Dong the opening.
Charlie Ward zipped the ball over. Zhao Dong caught it, dribbled toward the wing.
Bulls' defense switched instantly.
Pippen took a shortcut, cutting him off. Jordan abandoned Allan Houston and rushed up.
Double-team.
Zhao Dong dribbled, faked left, then quickly switched right.
Pippen bit—Zhao Dong blew past him.
But Jordan was waiting.
Zhao Dong hesitated, shifting his dribble to his left hand—Jordan reached.
But in one motion, Zhao Dong cut back right, shaking Jordan, and bolted into the paint.
"Oh, hell nah!"
Jordan grabbed his jersey. But just as he pulled, Zhao Dong slammed on the brakes.
Jordan's momentum carried him forward—his grip slipped.
"Damn it!"
Zhao Dong rose, clean mid-range jumper—bucket.
"YEAHHHH!"
MSG erupted.
Lindsay clapped, her face flashing on the Jumbotron.
Marv Albert shouted over the noise. "OH, WHAT A MOVE! Zhao Dong just made Jordan AND Pippen look like traffic cones!"
Zhao Dong turned to Jordan, grinning. "Damn, where was the defense?"
Jordan ignored him, turning to Pippen. "Stick to him, Scottie. Lock his ass up."
Phil Jackson gestured from the sideline. "Speed up the double-team!"
Jordan nodded.
---
Bulls' Possession
Jordan brought the ball up. The Knicks' defense tightened.
He broke past Houston—Oakley slid over to help.
But Jordan wasn't slowing. He changed directions mid-air, slipping past Oakley and gliding into the paint.
Ewing rotated over. Zhao Dong came from the weak side.
Jordan cocked the ball back with both hands. Ewing jumped to contest.
But Jordan tucked the ball mid-air and glided past him.
"Shit, no way!"
Ewing was already falling back down—Jordan was still floating.
Zhao Dong leaped, covering the right side of the rim.
But Jordan didn't go right—he kept gliding under the hoop.
Just before hitting the ground, he flipped the ball up left-handed.
Swish!
"DAMN!"
Even Zhao Dong had to respect that one.
Jordan landed, stone-faced. "You really think you can stop me?"
He had broke past four Knicks defenders for that bucket. And it was just another play to him.
But the trash talk? That was personal.
"Alright, rookie. Let's see what you really got."
—-
As soon as he steps on the court, he's doing whatever it takes to go at his opponents.
"Old man, why are you in my way?" Zhao Dong taunted. "Did you even contest my shot?"
"Damn rookie!" Jordan smirked, cursing under his breath.
On offense, Pippen wasn't letting up—dude was practically hanging onto Zhao Dong.
In today's league, this kind of defense would get called a hundred times for fouls. Scoring 20 points under this pressure was harder than dropping 40 in today's game.
Even so, Pippen couldn't stop Zhao Dong from getting to the wing. He was giving up way too much in strength and size.
Zhao Dong backed him down, set up two steps outside the paint, turned his body, and locked Pippen behind him. With his left arm sealing Pippen off, he raised his right hand, calling for the rock.
That's when Jordan shot in from the right wing, looking to double-team.
By the time Zhao Dong caught the ball, Jordan was already behind him, ready to trap with Pippen. One more step, and they'd have him boxed in.
But right then, Zhao Dong made his move. He turned like he was driving baseline.
Jordan and Pippen both reacted instantly—Jordan froze, hesitating, and Pippen took a half-step back.
Except Zhao Dong wasn't driving—he spun straight into a fadeaway jumper.
That Level 95 Gold Badge Turnaround Fade? Deadly. Gave him a 30% boost in shot stability and 30% better separation from defenders.
"Damn it!"
Both Jordan and Pippen cursed at the same time as they watched Zhao Dong rise up clean.
Swish!
Nothing but net.
"Wait… this dude got a Turnaround game now?" Jordan looked stunned.
Zhao Dong grinned, throwing up his arms. "Yo, where's my defender at? Y'all just leaving me open now? This discrimination or what?"
The crowd exploded as Zhao Dong barked at Jordan and Pippen.
"Don't bite," Jordan muttered, pulling Pippen back as he glared at Zhao Dong.
"Turnaround jumper? Damn, Zhao Dong just cooked them! You don't see him pull that move too often, but man, that was smooth!" Matt Goukas shouted.
"Zhao Dong usually keeps his post-game simple, mostly low-post work," Marv Albert added. "But if he starts hitting those fades regularly, it's gonna be hell for the Bulls."
Over at the CCTV broadcast, Zhang Heli was just as surprised. "Zhao Dong's got an arsenal, but he usually sticks to what he's mastered. If he starts leaning on this move more, it's only gonna make the Bulls' job harder."
On the Knicks' sideline, Jeff Van Gundy didn't overreact. He'd seen Zhao Dong evolve too many times to be shocked.
But on the Bulls' bench, Phil Jackson was already thinking. His entire defensive game plan was built around Zhao Dong not having an elite post-up game.
The real question: Was this a one-time thing? Or was this about to be another weapon in Zhao Dong's bag?
Bulls' possession.
Pippen kept moving—sliding between the left-wing three-point line and the baseline corner.
That was his bread and butter. He was a killer in those corners, plus his cuts inside were dangerous.
Zhao Dong knew it, so he stuck to him like glue.
Pippen tried to get open at the top of the arc, but Zhao Dong played him tight, using a top-side defense.
"Shit, why's this dude so damn fast?" Pippen thought, frustrated.
If he couldn't get the ball, he couldn't create, couldn't pull defenders, and couldn't take pressure off Jordan. That meant the Knicks could keep their entire defense focused on MJ.
But Jordan didn't care. He broke through the defense, slipped past two Knicks, and pulled up for a mid-range fade.
Bucket.
Zhang Heli analyzed: "Game's still deadlocked. Jordan and Zhao Dong have both hit two shots each—neither team is stopping the other's stars.
"If this keeps up, it's gonna be a war. I'd like to see Zhao Dong mix in more passing, maybe connect more with Ewing to add some variety to the offense.
"Defensively, he could switch onto Jordan with Oakley or Alan Houston—maybe make it tougher for MJ to attack."
Van Gundy, though? He wasn't changing a thing. Adjusting mid-game wasn't exactly his strength.
Originally, the plan was to feed Ewing. Now? Just give Zhao Dong the rock and let him work.
Defensively, there was still a gap. Zhao Dong's perimeter defense wasn't fully developed, and Van Gundy hadn't built a defense around him yet. The Knicks' interior and perimeter defenses were still kinda disconnected.
Back on offense.
Zhao Dong brought it up, crossed half-court, and dragged the ball to the left sideline.
Then he threw up the signal. Clear out.
"Oh hell yeah, Zhao Dong is about to go ISO on Pippen!" Matt Goukas shouted.
Alan Houston slid over to the right wing, Oakley and Ewing cleared out, and Charlie Ward stayed at the top.
A full five-out spread—classic iso formation.
This setup made it nearly impossible for the Bulls to double-team from the left. Jordan was way over on the right sideline, too far to help.
Phil Jackson locked in on Pippen vs. Zhao Dong. This was gonna be a test of Pippen's one-on-one defense.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Zhao Dong dribbled with his right, shielding with his left.
Then he pushed forward—driving left wing.
"Double coming!"
Marv Albert called it.
Ron Harper, the Bulls' point guard, jumped over from the top of the key, leaving Charlie Ward wide open.
As the defense collapsed, Zhao Dong didn't hesitate.
He zipped a pass inside.
"Dime!"
Charlie Ward cut into the paint, took two quick steps, and laid it in.
The arena erupted.
"This is what happens when you double Zhao Dong up top! His passing is next level," Matt Goukas raved.
"Close the gaps!" Phil Jackson barked.
Jordan raised his hand—that should've been his rotation, but he was too far from the play. Next time, he'd have to leave Houston open.
Bulls' ball.
Pippen tried to shake free, but Zhao Dong shadowed him.
Jordan took matters into his own hands—drove into the paint, fought through a double, and forced up a tough fadeaway.
Miss.
Ewing snagged the rebound.
"Jordan pulls up... Missed it! Score stays 4-6. Knicks on the break!" the commentator called out.
The Knicks came back down, but Oakley bricked a shot.
Bulls' possession. Phil Jackson quickly called timeout.
The offense wasn't flowing right. Pippen was getting locked up, and the Knicks' defense wasn't stretched—they were swarming Jordan. Phil needed to fix it.
"Scottie, you gotta use your teammates more. Run some pick-and-rolls, shake off Zhao Dong, catch the ball, and go to work," he said. "Or move without the ball—draw defenders away from Michael and make sure you keep that dude glued to you.
"In the triangle, you're the middle option. Play your role, keep running, and open things up for the team."
"Got it," Pippen muttered, frustrated. His game was off tonight—both ends of the floor.
With the offense set, Phil adjusted the defense too. Again, it was about Pippen.
"If the Knicks get too comfortable, force them into jumpers. Let Zhao Dong take threes—just don't let him get downhill. If he drives, cut off his passing lanes and wait for help.
"He's got two go-to moves: either bulldozing his way in or faking one way and exploding the other—it's all about rhythm.
"Your job? Stay between him, the hoop, and his teammates. Push him to the weak side, cut him off, make him work for everything."
Timeout over. Bulls' ball.
Pippen took off on the left wing, running hard. After multiple cuts, he finally lost Zhao Dong and slashed into the paint.
His off-ball movement was elite, forcing Ewing and Oakley to collapse inside.
At the same time, Jordan sprinted along the right wing.
Ron Harper hit Pippen with a pass as he attacked the rim, dragging the defense in even further.
That's when he saw the window—Jordan had already shaken off Allan Houston. Pippen kicked it out.
"Too slow!"
Just as the ball left his hands, Zhao Dong lunged in—nearly picked it off.
Jordan caught it at the right-wing three-point line. Pump fake—Allan Houston bit. One dribble inside, pull-up jumper.
Knicks' defense was too deep, Oakley couldn't close out.
"Splash!"
"Six-all! Classic triangle execution!" Matt Goukas praised from the NBC booth.
"Pippen cut in to draw the D, Jordan got the open look, and Rodman locked in on the boards," Marv Albert added.
Knicks' possession.
Zhao Dong brought it up.
Unlike Pippen, he wasn't just a slasher—his handle was tighter, his shot smoother, his playmaking sharper. His threat level? Way higher.
Catching the ball was easy for him. Once he got position, Pippen couldn't outmuscle him and had to play straight-up D. That gave Zhao Dong the spacing he needed to go to work.
He called for an iso. Pippen stepped up.
Boom! First step—power drive.
With his size and strength, Zhao Dong bulldozed through Pippen's pressure. Just a stiff arm was enough to create separation.
As he crossed the three-point line, Harper and Rodman tensed up.
"Are they sending help?" Zhang Heli asked.
Pippen suddenly backed off a half step, smirking. "Go ahead, rookie—shoot it."
Zhao Dong controlled the ball, scanning the floor. He knew the game. They wanted him to settle for a three, keep him from attacking.
But he wasn't falling for it.
"Three-pointer!" The commentator hyped as Zhao Dong raised the ball.
Pippen instinctively jumped.
Big mistake.
"Psyche!"
Zhao Dong yanked the ball back, blew past Pippen, and exploded into the lane.
"Oh, he got him! Zhao Dong is on the move!"
He cut in from the left elbow—Harper and Rodman collapsed, Ewing rotated over.
"No-look lob!"
Zhao Dong flicked a pass.
"BOOM!"
Ewing caught it mid-air—alley-oop slam!
"Damn! That was nasty!" Zhang Heli laughed. "Just as smooth as the Bulls' last play, but Zhao Dong off the dribble is a bigger problem than Pippen off the ball."
Phil Jackson shook his head.
"Scottie can't hold him."
But Zhao Dong had to be contained. If not, he'd torch them every play, and the Bulls would be forced into a shootout. That wasn't their game.
The Bulls' dynasty was built on both ends—not just offense. They couldn't afford to lose their defensive edge.
Phil exhaled.
"Do we really gotta run the Jordan Rules on this rookie?"
The thought made him chuckle.
The Knicks weren't even using the Jordan Rules on Mike, yet here he was, about to use them on Zhao Dong.
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