Charlie Ward brought the ball upcourt. On the left wing, Zhao Dong caught the pass and started orchestrating the offense.
"Hey, Karl, if you're not doubling me, I'm walking right through you," Zhao Dong taunted, standing two steps beyond the arc, jawing at Karl Malone.
"Then do it," Malone sneered, backing off slightly.
Zhao Dong smirked. Without hesitation, he exploded forward, attacking Malone off the dribble, shifting toward the flank.
The Jazz defense collapsed inward, but their rotation was sluggish, and the Knicks had no clear open looks. Zhao Dong didn't force the pass. Instead, he kept driving, compressing Utah's defense further.
Bryon Russell, defending on the wing, played it safe. He backpedaled instead of challenging Zhao Dong directly. With his hesitation, Zhao Dong blew by him and penetrated the paint.
The moment Zhao Dong crossed the key, Utah's defense swarmed.
Five defenders converged on him like a fist closing around its target.
"Oh! The Jordan Rules? Zhao Dong, watch out!" Marv Albert shouted.
But Zhao Dong was unshaken. He'd been through hell against the Bulls in the Eastern Conference Finals, where he was double-teamed relentlessly. This was nothing new.
With a sudden, sharp brake—squeak!—he stopped on a dime.
Malone, trailing him, couldn't slow down in time and stumbled forward. Center Greg Ostertag, covering the paint, also missed the timing. The rest of the Jazz were half a step too slow.
With elite coordination and footwork, Zhao Dong negated his forward momentum, keeping perfect balance.
He rose up.
"Swish!"
The ball snapped through the net—money.
5-8, Knicks up by three.
"Clean! A perfect pull-up jumper!" Matt Goukas exclaimed. "Zhao Dong shredded the Jazz defense before they could fully collapse on him."
On the CCTV broadcast, Zhang Heli analyzed, "I warned about the double-teams in the paint. Even though Zhao Dong scored, he needs to be careful. Against a five-man collapse, he'll be at a height disadvantage. The Knicks should avoid these situations."
Matt Goukas chimed in on NBC, "Zhao Dong's separation ability is elite. His top-tier footwork lets him create space on demand, giving him clean looks. That's why his shooting percentage is even higher than Jordan's right now."
"True," Marv Albert added. "While his overall offensive package isn't as polished as Jordan's yet, his raw skills might already be stronger. His footwork, balance, and pull-up game are lethal."
---
On the sidelines, Jazz head coach Jerry Sloan shook his head.
Five defenders, and Zhao Dong still scored. What more could he throw at him?
But Sloan wasn't about to abandon the defensive scheme. There was no way Zhao Dong could keep hitting at this clip all game. Not even Jordan was that unstoppable.
---
Utah possession.
The Jazz ran their signature pick-and-roll.
After multiple screens, Malone finally shook free from Zhao Dong. With a clear mid-range look, Malone pulled up and sank it.
7-8, Knicks still ahead.
---
Knicks offense.
Zhao Dong brought the ball up, pulling up two steps beyond the three-point line on the left wing.
He'd already dissected Utah's defensive scheme. This time, he wanted to send a message: his game wasn't just about attacking the paint.
He signaled for the Knicks to clog the lane.
With his back to the basket, Zhao Dong faked a power drive, putting his shoulder into Malone.
"Idiot... Shit!" Malone cursed, realizing he'd been baited.
Zhao Dong instantly spun away, using the contact as momentum to separate. He cut toward the three-point line and launched a jumper.
"Bang!"
The shot clanged off the rim.
But the Knicks were ready. The moment Zhao Dong shot, the entire team crashed the glass.
Oakley bullied his way inside, snatched the offensive board, and quickly spotted Zhao Dong retreating to the left corner.
Zhao Dong raised his hand—Oakley fired it to him immediately.
Without hesitation, Zhao Dong caught and shot.
Malone came flying in, but he was too slow.
"Swish!"
Money from deep.
7-11, Knicks up by four.
---
"Malone can't guard Zhao Dong," Matt Goukas shook his head. "He's too damn slow. Zhao Dong keeps shaking him off with his first step, creating open looks every time."
On CCTV, Zhang Heli shouted excitedly, "Beautiful shot! The Knicks executed perfectly—Zhao Dong pulling the defense out with his shooting range while the others crashed for offensive rebounds. That's smart basketball.
"If Zhao Dong keeps splashing threes, Utah will have no choice but to tighten their perimeter defense. That'll open up driving lanes for the Knicks' cutters. And if they collapse too hard, Zhao Dong's passing game will carve them up—it's better than the Knicks just jacking up contested threes."
---
End of the first quarter:
Knicks: 28
Jazz: 20
Zhao Dong played the entire quarter, dominating the offensive flow.
His stat line:
17 points (6-of-9 FG, 3-of-6 from three, 2-of-2 FT)
2 rebounds
1 assist
1 steal
1 block
After the opening minutes, Zhao Dong adjusted his approach. Instead of challenging Utah's size inside, he used his speed and shooting to exploit mismatches, torching Malone from the perimeter.
When the Jazz switched defenders, putting Bryon Russell on him, Zhao Dong flipped the script again. With the smaller Russell on him, Zhao Dong simply shot over him, raining down threes with ease.
---
On the NBC broadcast, Matt Goukas shook his head.
"The Bulls have Pippen, who can actually stick with Zhao Dong on the perimeter," he pointed out. "But the Jazz? They're cooked. Malone's too slow, and Russell's too small. Zhao Dong's getting wide-open looks all night."
Marv Albert added, "And remember, this is just the first quarter. Zhao Dong's still warming up. If his rhythm gets sharper, it's game over. In practice, he's been known to hit dozens of shots in a row. If the Jazz can't slow him down soon, they'll have to double him from the arc too—just like the Bulls did."
Matt agreed. "If Utah doesn't start doubling him outside, it's a wrap."
In front of the Jazz bench, Jerry Sloan paced back and forth, running through the first quarter breakdown.
He hadn't doubled Zhao Dong on the perimeter, fearing Zhao's elite playmaking ability. Every time Zhao pulled up from outside, the Knicks' bigs crashed the paint. If Sloan ordered a double-team, it would leave someone wide open down low.
But after watching Zhao drill 3-of-6 from three in the first quarter, Sloan stopped caring about leaving guys open.
"Screw it. Double him."
Without hesitation, he switched tactics. Malone was sent back to the low post on defense. Instead of the usual big-man help, Sloan assigned Bryon Russell and Jeff Hornacek to double-team Zhao Dong.
It was a gamble. By keeping Malone and Greg Ostertag down low, the Jazz could dominate the boards, even if the Knicks got an occasional open look.
"Stay tight on D! Don't give them wide-open shots—just tiny gaps. And when you double Zhao, lock him down. No easy passes!" Sloan barked.
---
Second quarter.
Zhao Dong checked in immediately, determined to maintain the lead. This was a must-win game—taking a 2-0 series lead was critical.
He already knew how he wanted to play this quarter.
"Switch it up."
Instead of attacking from the perimeter, he planned to bully the Jazz in the low post, mixing in Tim Duncan-style footwork. If the double came, he'd kick it out to the weak side. If it didn't, he'd feast inside.
The Jazz, still trailing, brought out their main lineup.
The Knicks responded with:
Veteran Buck Williams
Rookie John Wallace
Zhao Dong on the wing
Allan Houston and Chris Childs in the backcourt
---
Jazz possession.
Zhao Dong stayed on Karl Malone, ready for the physical battle.
The Jazz kept running pick-and-rolls over and over, trying to free up Malone.
On the third screen, rookie John Wallace misread the switch, leaving Malone wide open.
Swish!
Mid-range jumper—money.
---
Knicks' offense.
Zhao Dong posted up on the low left wing, with Malone glued to him.
As Zhao tried to back him down, Malone kept hitting him with sneaky elbows to the ribs, disrupting his balance.
"Damn it, you old bastard…" Zhao muttered through gritted teeth.
The moment he entered the paint, the Jazz collapsed on him. Charles Oakley fired a pass inside. The second the ball touched Zhao Dong's hands, Utah's defense pounced, double-teaming him hard.
But Zhao didn't hesitate. With his back to the basket, he leapt up and twisted mid-air.
"Jump pass!" the commentator yelled.
He whipped a one-handed bullet to Allan Houston on the weak side.
Jeff Hornacek turned back on defense but was already two steps behind. Too slow.
"Swish!"
Open jumper—bucket.
"Zhao's back in the low post, shifting constantly. The Jazz defense can't keep up." Matt Goukas analyzed.
Jazz possession.
John Stockton ran the pick-and-roll but couldn't find an opening. With no passing lane, he forced a mid-range jumper—clank.
Charles snagged the rebound.
Knicks pushed the pace.
Zhao Dong posted up again on the left wing.
The Jazz adjusted their defense—only Russell came over to double-team this time.
But the moment Zhao caught the ball, he didn't hesitate.
He spun baseline.
One step. Two. Jump.
Too quick.
Malone was still stuck on the turn. Russell lunged late, barely missing the contest.
"Swish!"
Another mid-range dagger.
"Damn, his footwork is unfair. The Mailman can't keep up outside, and he's too slow in the post," Matt Goukas groaned.
Next Jazz possession.
This time, Malone crowded Zhao on the elbow, guarding against the turn.
But Zhao switched it up.
He faked the upward spin, then slipped baseline, slithering into the paint.
"Bang!"
Greg Ostertag slid over under the rim. Zhao didn't force the dunk—he calmly hit a 30-degree bank shot off the glass.
Soft touch. Deadly precision.
"Money."
---
For a rebounding master like Zhao Dong, shooting off the glass from any angle was second nature. His precision made even awkward angles look routine.
"Duncan's bank shot game?" Zhao smirked. "Child's play."
He knew Tim Duncan, still young in the league, hadn't yet perfected his bank shot arsenal. Duncan's stronger wrists gave him power, but his touch wasn't as soft as Zhao's. Duncan needed to shoot from optimal 45-degree angles, while Zhao could kiss it off the glass from anywhere.
The Jazz got frustrated.
They amped up the physicality, hitting Zhao with cheap elbows, body checks, and shoves. Malone started throwing bows and forearms like he was back in the 80s.
The dirty play affected Zhao's shooting efficiency slightly, but he didn't let it faze him.
In the second half, he toned down his scoring and shifted his focus to playmaking and defense.
By constantly changing his style, Zhao threw the Jazz defense into disarray.
Halftime score:
Knicks: 50
Jazz: 45
The Knicks maintained their 5-point lead, despite Utah playing their starters heavy minutes.
---
Zhao Dong's second-quarter stat line:
3-of-6 FG
3-of-4 FT
9 points
4 rebounds
3 assists
1 steal
2 blocks
1 turnover
1 foul
First half total:
26 points
6 rebounds
4 assists
2 steals
3 blocks
---
After the half, Zhao Dong returned to the bench, downed an energy drink, and headed to the locker room.
In the Jazz locker room, the mood was grim.
Down 0-2 in the series, heading back home for Game 3, they knew they were in deep trouble.
If they couldn't stop Zhao Dong, the series was as good as over.
Malone played the entire first half and was noticeably more efficient than in Game 1. The constant pick-and-rolls gave him some clean looks. He shot 5-of-10 from the field and hit 2-of-3 free throws, finishing the half with 12 points.
But despite the solid shooting clip, his scoring felt underwhelming. With fewer shot attempts and fewer trips to the line, Malone couldn't carry the offense the way Sloan wanted.
"Damn it. Only 12 points?" Sloan grumbled.
Considering how much the Jazz worked to create space for him, it felt like a waste. Sloan expected at least 18 points by halftime. If Malone had delivered, the Jazz wouldn't be trailing.
"Karl, I need you to shoot more."
"Got it, Coach," Malone replied, clenching his fists.
Sloan gathered the team.
"We did a solid job slowing Zhao Dong in the second quarter," he said. "Only gave up 9 points. But we let him rack up three assists, which kept their offense flowing. We can't let him dictate the pace like that. We need to tighten up on the weak side and force him into tougher decisions."
He turned to Malone, his eyes sharp.
"Step it up on defense. Hit him. Hard."
"No problem," Malone snarled, jaw clenched.
---
Second half.
The Jazz came out attacking.
On the first possession, Malone used a pick-and-roll to get free, catching the ball near the elbow.
But Zhao Dong caught up fast, closing the gap.
Malone's eyes narrowed.
"Take this, kid."
He swung his elbows violently—BANG!
His left elbow caught Zhao Dong flush on the chin.
"Tch!" Zhao grunted, staggering back. Pain flashed through his jaw.
"Beep!"
The ref blew the whistle, signaling an offensive foul.
"Booooo!"
The home crowd erupted, raining deafening boos on the officials.
"I didn't do anything!" Malone barked at the ref. "He ran into me!"
But his voice was lost in the sea of boos. The ref didn't even glance his way.
---
"Zhao, you good?"
Oakley jogged over, eyes locked on Malone. The veteran enforcer was already spoiling for a fight.
"Zhao, what the hell was that?!" Larry Johnson and John Starks rushed over, heated.
"I'm fine. Don't do anything stupid," Zhao Dong urged, waving them off.
The Knicks were in control, and he didn't want stupid retaliation to jeopardize their shot at the title.
Still… he wasn't letting that elbow slide.
Zhao touched his chin.
No blood, no teeth knocked loose—just a nasty ache from Malone's elbow.
"Cheap shotting bastard…" he muttered under his breath.
On NBC, Marv Albert called the play.
"Ooooh! Dirty elbow from Karl Malone!"
Matt Goukas shook his head.
"Yeah, that's Malone's intimidation game. Most guys back off after taking one of those. Let's see if Zhao Dong does."
Marv chuckled.
"Nah. If anything, I'd bet Zhao's the next one to throw an elbow."
Twenty seconds later.
Zhao Dong slashed into the paint, attacking off the dribble.
As he spun through the lane, his left elbow snapped back—BANG!
Square to Malone's mouth.
"ARGH!"
Malone groaned in agony, instantly dropping to a crouch, clutching his mouth.
"YEEAAAH!!"
The Garden exploded, the crowd roaring with approval, drowning out the ref's whistle.
"Hah! Payback time!" Matt Goukas roared with laughter.
"Eye for an eye. Elbow for an elbow!" Marv Albert grinned.
---
"Oh! Malone's bleeding!" Matt suddenly shouted.
The camera zoomed in.
"Oh man… look at that! Blood everywhere!"
The slow-mo replay showed the brutal impact—Malone's lip split open, and his teeth cracked.
"Ohhh, he didn't have his mouthguard in!" Marv groaned. "Bad decision—two front teeth, gone."
The camera cut to the floor, where two bloody teeth sat in a growing puddle of blood.
Malone staggered to his feet, his eyes bloodshot with fury, glaring daggers at Zhao Dong.
His fists clenched.
"You bastard…"
---
The Knicks weren't having it.
Oakley and Larry Johnson instantly flanked Zhao, ready for war.
"Don't even try it," Oakley muttered darkly, locking eyes with Malone.
They knew the deal. If Malone threw hands, they'd take him out—even if it meant getting ejected.
"Karl, don't!"
John Stockton sprinted over, arms outstretched, blocking Malone's path.
Stockton's voice was desperate.
"Don't take the bait! They're trying to get you tossed!"
Meanwhile, in China…
At Yao Ming's home in Shanghai, his mother watched the brutal sequence on TV, eyes wide with horror.
"Wait, THIS is NBA basketball?!" she gasped, seeing Malone's mouth full of blood.
As a former center for China's women's national team, she'd seen physical play—but nothing like this.
She stared at her towering teenage son in disbelief.
"You… you're gonna play in this league?"
---
Zhang Mingji, Yao Ming's agent, patted her arm, reassuring her.
"Auntie, relax. Yao's way too tall—no one's elbowing him. Plus, he'll wear a mouthguard, unlike Malone."
Yao sat silently, watching the bloodbath.
He unconsciously touched his mouth.
"Yeah… definitely getting a mouthguard."
---
Meanwhile, at Zhao Dong's family home in Beijing…
His mother, Li Meizhu, stood in front of the TV, fists clenched, seething with rage.
"That bastard dared to hit my son?!" she roared. "See what happens now, you piece of shit!"
Zhao Dacheng, Zhao's older brother, was just as fired up.
"Damn, bro! You should've aimed higher and clocked him in the nose!" he bellowed. "Take him out!"
"WHACK!"
Li Meizhu slapped Zhao Dacheng on the head, scowling.
"Idiot! You want your brother ejected?" she snapped. "He's playing for the damn championship! We want him to dominate, not brawl!"
Her eyes narrowed, voice cold.
"We're going for pure gold—99-karat dominance. If Malone goes down, the Jazz are done. We want them to suffer. Slowly."
Zhao Dacheng blinked, then grinned sheepishly.
"Damn, Mom… you're a savage genius."
---
Back on the court.
Malone glared at Zhao Dong, eyes burning with hate, but he didn't swing.
He couldn't afford the ejection.
And that's exactly why Zhao Dong smirked.
"You're stuck, old man," he thought. "I can do whatever I want, and you can't hit back."
The Knicks' plan worked perfectly.
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