At this time, the free throws began. Bang, bang, bang. Charlie Ward dribbled the ball more than ten times before finally taking his shot.
Too short. Clank.
"Ha!"
Rodman let out a weird yell, throwing a taunting look at Zhao Dong.
"Hey, rookie, don't forget to send me that check," Jordan smirked from the outside, already talking his talk.
"Idiots, free throws ain't even done yet," Zhao Dong shot back.
"Zhao?"
Charlie Ward wiped the sweat off his forehead, looking a little flustered.
"Charlie, I'll split the money with you if you make this one." Zhao Dong flashed a grin, pulling out that money magic.
"One hundred fifty grand for a free throw?"
That bag got Ward hyped real quick. He dribbled three times, took a breath, locked in, and let it fly.
Swish!
Bucket. One-for-two at the stripe.
"Haha! Jordan, hope you got your checkbook ready!" Zhao Dong turned and yelled at him.
"Damn it!" Jordan cursed under his breath.
The Bulls wasted no time. Jordan caught the rock and bolted down the court, Alan Houston right on him.
But this was MJ. He pulled up from beyond the right-wing arc, drifting mid-air toward the baseline before launching his shot.
Swish!
Splash. Pure.
Beep!
The whistle blew. The ref pointed at Houston and signaled the and-one.
"…" Alan Houston just stood there, stunned.
"Oh no, a four-point play at the worst time! This is brutal!" Marv Albert exclaimed.
"Jordan is on another level tonight! That's 68 for him, a new record!" Matt Goukas shouted.
"At crunch time, MJ flips the switch and goes god mode. That's why he's the best in the league. His scoring bag is too deep!" Marv added, shaking his head.
"This whole sequence took just 4.5 seconds. 6.7 left on the clock. If MJ cashes this free throw, we got a tie game, and the Bulls still have a shot," Ernie Grunfeld broke it down.
"112-113. Bulls down one," Matt Goukas confirmed.
"Still wanna gamble, rookie?" Jordan smirked, walking toward the stripe with his head high.
"Bet," Zhao Dong shot back, voice cold.
"I ain't even wagering on this free throw. That's automatic," Jordan scoffed. "We're betting on the game. Bulls win, you owe me $500K. If y'all win, I owe you."
Zhao Dong didn't even hesitate. "Double it. A milli."
Jordan's eyes flickered. He hadn't expected that. He gave a nod. "Bet."
"These two are straight-up insane."
Both squads had the same thought.
Swish!
MJ dribbled three times, took a breath, and drained it.
"69 points. New record. The coldest mentality in the game. No fear in the big moments. This is Jordan," Marv Albert marveled.
Tied at 113. No timeouts left for the Knicks. They had to inbound from the baseline.
Van Gundy wiped his sweaty forehead, barking orders. "Move! Create space! No mistakes! We play for OT if we have to!"
"Pat, give me the rock." Zhao Dong pulled Ewing aside and whispered.
Ewing nodded. He knew he wasn't built for these moments. Zhao had that killer instinct. No reason to argue.
"Oh, Ewing's inbounding… Zhao shakes free from Pippen! The pass is in!"
Pippen chased desperately. Zhao Dong caught the ball, put his head down, and bolted up the floor.
Rodman, Jordan, and Harper abandoned their assignments, racing back to cut him off.
4 seconds… 3… 2…
Zhao Dong sprinted past the arc. Jordan, Harper, and Rodman formed a wall in front of him. Pippen trailed behind.
Zhao Dong stopped on a dime.
Pull-up jumper?
The Bulls trio hesitated. Too late.
Zhao Dong rose up, eyes locked on the rim.
This had to go in. No overtime. No extra chances. He had to put the Bulls down. He had to take down Jordan.
The ball left his fingertips.
The Bulls trio got up for the contest, but their timing was half a beat late. Zhao Dong's quick stop pulled them just off rhythm.
The ball sailed past their fingertips, arcing toward the hoop.
Zhao Dong landed, turned, brushed past Pippen, and threw up an OK sign.
He was celebrating early.
The backboard light flashed red.
Swish!
Water. Pure.
For a moment, Madison Square Garden held its breath. Then—
"OOOOHHHHH!!!"
The place exploded.
The entire crowd leaped to their feet, screaming in chaos.
"A BUZZER-BEATER! ZHAO DONG TAKES DOWN THE BULLS!" Marv Albert lost his voice.
"A HIGH-POST PULL-UP JUMPER TO ICE IT! HE CELEBRATED EARLY! HE HUMILIATED THE BULLS! HE TOOK DOWN JORDAN!"
Knicks fans went absolutely nuts.
Zhao Dong stood there, ice-cold, staring at the stunned Bulls.
Tonight, he wasn't just a rookie. He was him.
"This is insane! Zhao Dong just drilled a cold-blooded buzzer-beater with four defenders all over him. This dude's got ice in his veins..."
Marv Albert shook his head and sighed.
"113-115! The Knicks take down the Bulls! He answered Jordan's early celebration with the ultimate clapback!"
Matt Goukas shouted excitedly.
"He who laughs last, laughs best," Zhang Heli chuckled.
"Unbelievable! A buzzer-beater! Zhao Dong just put the Bulls to sleep!" Sun Zhenping yelled.
On the court, Jordan stared at the hole in the net, frustrated. He then turned toward Zhao Dong.
"Mr. Jordan, the King of Empty Stats, how does it feel to get cooked at the buzzer? That's twice now I've hit you with the dagger. Don't worry, I'll do it again."
Zhao Dong's trash talk hit instantly.
Jordan clenched his fists so hard they nearly cracked. His jaw tightened, and his eyes burned with fury.
"Let's go," he spat, storming off the court with his teammates.
"Jordan! Don't forget to send me that $1.3 million check. No funny business!" Zhao Dong shouted after him.
Jordan let out a furious grunt. "You ain't getting off easy either!"
Zhao Dong smirked, then turned to celebrate with his squad, chest-bumping and hyping each other up like they just won the Finals.
"Zhao Dong, congrats! You went 14-of-23 from the field, 12-of-15 from the line, and dropped a monster triple-double—40 points, 11 boards, 13 dimes, 3 steals, 4 blocks, 3 turnovers, and 4 fouls. That's your fifth triple-double, and all of them came in the playoffs!"
Zhang Heli grinned as he gave the postgame interview.
"Stats only matter when they come with a dub," Zhao Dong said humbly.
"Zhao Dong, how does it feel to hit a game-winner against the Bulls?" Sun Zhenping asked.
"Man, dropping a buzzer-beater on Jordan? That's a special kind of satisfaction," Zhao Dong laughed.
"Zhao Dong, Jordan put up 69 tonight. Any thoughts?" The Knicks' team reporter, Thomas, asked.
"Unreal offensive skillset, gotta respect that. Right now, my scoring game isn't on his level," Zhao Dong admitted.
"You confident going into Game 2?" Thomas pressed.
"Why wouldn't I be? I'm 4-1 against the Bulls. The Knicks got the mental edge. If anyone should be doubting themselves, it's them," Zhao Dong said with a smirk.
Meanwhile, in the Bulls' locker room, Jordan was fuming. He kicked a locker so hard it left a massive dent.
Dropping 69 and still losing? That cut deep.
"Michael, chill. We'll bounce back," Phil Jackson urged.
"I know," Jordan muttered, taking a deep breath. "We're not losing again."
After the live interviews, Zhao Dong walked over to Lindsay, who had been waiting for him. She congratulated him, and after chatting for a bit, he saw her off.
"Zhao Dong, got practice tomorrow morning?" Lindsay asked as they walked down the quiet corridor, holding his arm.
"Nah, off day. Why?"
"Let's grab lunch together."
"Sounds good, I'll pick you up."
"No way, too many people recognize your truck. I'll drive instead."
"Alright, fair enough."
"How about Chinese food? I love it," Lindsay suggested.
"As long as you're happy, I'm down," Zhao Dong smiled.
"Can you speak Chinese, by the way?" he suddenly asked.
Lindsay hesitated. "A little. My mom taught me when I was a kid, but I've forgotten most of it."
"Try me," Zhao Dong grinned.
Lindsay thought for a moment before listing words in Chinese. "Mom, baby, Evelyn Lindsay, China, Beijing, Peking Opera, Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, Fragrant Hills, hutongs, alleys, soy milk, candied hawthorn, the Netherlands..."
Then, in a Beijing accent, she added, "Have you eaten?"
Zhao Dong chuckled. "I get it now. Your mom was from Beijing."
Lindsay nodded with a smile.
"You know, I'm from Beijing too. That makes us hometown homies," Zhao Dong grinned.
"Really?" Lindsay's eyes lit up in surprise.
"You got any summer plans? If I win this championship, how about I take you back to Beijing?" Zhao Dong offered.
Lindsay's smile widened. "I'd love that. I've always wanted to see my mom's hometown."
"You got any family in Beijing?" Zhao Dong asked.
Lindsay's expression dimmed. She sighed. "My mom chose my dad, and my grandparents weren't happy about it. They weren't in great health and passed away before my mom did. She always felt guilty about it."
Zhao Dong nodded, choosing not to push further.
As Zhao Dong was seeing Lindsay off, the media continued interviewing other superstars on-site.
"Magic, did this game's result surprise you?" a reporter asked Magic Johnson.
Magic Johnson said, "The Knicks have had the upper hand all season, and honestly, based on how these two teams played in their four regular-season matchups, it's no surprise the Bulls still haven't figured out how to stop Zhao Dong.
But in this game, even though the Knicks had control most of the way, they couldn't contain Jordan. He went nuclear, had one of the craziest performances we've ever seen, and damn near stole the game by himself. If Zhao Dong hadn't gone off the way he did, Chicago probably walks away with this win.
What I'm saying is, both squads got a serious problem—neither team can lock down their superstar.
The reason the Knicks have been dominant is that Zhao's defensive presence has hurt the Bulls' offense. He straight-up put Pippen in a cage, shut down the triangle offense, and forced Jordan to go one-on-one every possession.
Meanwhile, on the other end, Zhao Dong was wrecking their defense. He drew double-teams, got his teammates open shots, and ran the whole offense like a true floor general.
Normally, Jordan is just one piece of the triangle offense, but Zhao Dong? He's the entire engine of the Knicks.
No disrespect to Ewing, but against the Bulls, Zhao Dong is the one freezing out Pippen and deciding the game. He's the true core of this squad."
"Shaq, you think the Bulls can take Game 2?" a reporter asked O'Neal.
"I said on the show I was rockin' with the Knicks, but after tonight? Man, Jordan was a damn monster. Sixty-nine points? Bro, I don't think I could put up 69 even if I played till I dropped dead."
The reporter laughed. "So you're saying you're leaning toward the Bulls now?"
"Nah, I'm saying this is a superstar battle. It's all about who comes out hotter—Zhao Dong or Jordan. Whoever shows up bigger is taking the W."
At that moment, Spike Lee walked past O'Neal's chest, puffed out his chest, and yelled, "We takin' this series!"
"Hey, Spike, you still looking for actors? I think I'd kill it in a movie," Shaq joked.
After seeing Lindsay off, Zhao Dong headed straight for the post-game press conference.
As he passed the Bulls' media room, he spotted Jordan, who was clearly still heated.
"Damn, MJ, didn't think you'd still wanna do the press after that one," Zhao Dong said with a smirk.
Jordan shot him a cold look and snorted. "Boy, this series is just gettin' started. You better keep that same energy."
Zhao Dong laughed. "Man, you ain't droppin' 69 again. If you didn't go supernova, this game wouldn't even be close."
Jordan smirked. "We'll see." He turned and walked inside.
Zhao Dong shrugged and headed to the Knicks' press room.
The first question came from The New York Times.
"Jeff, does winning Game 1 prove the Knicks are better than the Bulls?"
Van Gundy knew how crazy the New York media could be, so he carefully chose his words.
"Well… tonight we were, let's say, fortunate. Zhao Dong was the key. He put up a 40-point triple-double and carried us. But this series isn't over. We gotta keep grinding."
He danced around the question completely.
The second reporter, also from The New York Times, asked, "Zhao Dong, do you think the Knicks won because they're the better team, or was this just luck?"
"Oh, we're the better team," Zhao Dong grinned. "I mean, c'mon, you saw that. Jordan dropped a ridiculous 69 points—insane numbers—but we still won. We're the real squad to beat. I remember MJ saying last season's Bulls were the greatest team ever. Wonder if he still believes that now?"
The reporter followed up, "How do you feel about the Bulls' performance tonight?"
Zhao Dong smirked. "They were just chasing us all game. No system, no real game plan. I didn't see a triangle offense—I saw Jordan chucking up shots every trip down. He went nuclear tonight, but if he didn't? Man, we would've blown 'em out in the first half."
Over in the Bulls' press room, a reporter from the Chicago Sports Journal didn't hold back.
"Coach Jackson, your team lost all four regular-season games against the Knicks, and now Game 1. The offense tonight was basically 'Jordan vs. Five Defenders.' You've had a whole season—why haven't you figured out a way to handle the Knicks?"
Phil Jackson paused, thinking for a moment. "Look, sometimes there's no tactical answer for a guy going off.
Take Michael, for example. Even with the 'Jordan Rules,' he still finds a way to get buckets.
Same with Zhao Dong. You all saw it—we threw double-teams, triple-teams, hell, even quadruple-teams at him on that last possession. And yet, he still got his shot off.
Tonight wasn't about tactics—it was a battle of superstars. Zhao Dong's 40-point triple-double versus Michael's 69-piece. Two legends doing everything to win. Someone had to lose. It was just us this time."
A surprised reporter asked, "So you're putting Zhao Dong on the same level as Jordan?"
Phil Jackson raised an eyebrow. "In nine playoff games, Zhao Dong's already posted five triple-doubles. That's crazier than Magic Johnson in his rookie year. That's Hall of Fame-level production.
Now, don't get me wrong—I ain't saying he's on Michael's level yet. But let's be real—he's the Knicks' heart and soul, just like MJ is for us. He's the one dictating games."
A reporter from the Chicago Daily News asked Jordan directly, "Last season, we were the greatest team ever with 72 wins. Now, we're 1-4 against the Knicks this season. How do you respond to that?"
Jordan stayed calm. "We got hit in the mouth tonight. It's a wake-up call. But it's just one game. We'll take Game 2, go back home, and from there, we're in control."
Then, a Los Angeles News reporter pressed him.
"Michael, your rivalry with Zhao Dong has been heating up, but the Bulls have been struggling against the Knicks. Do you think you still have the upper hand in this feud?"
Jordan scoffed. "Man, don't even put him in the same convo as me. I got four rings, four Finals MVPs, four MVPs, nine scoring titles, and eight All-NBA First Teams. And I'll probably make it again this season.
What does he have?"
At that moment, some reporters—clearly Jordan diehards—couldn't contain themselves.
"MJ, we got your back! If you shut that Knicks kid down, you'll be the true GOAT!"
Jordan chuckled, flashing his signature smile. "Appreciate y'all. Trust me—I ain't lettin' you down."
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