NBA: The Dynasty Crusher (Basketball)

The Knicks pushed the ball into the frontcourt, setting up their offense near the right short corner.

Zhao Dong didn't head straight to the low block. Instead, he caught the ball on the left wing, faced up Michael Jordan, and in a flash, exploded past him with a first step so quick it left MJ flat-footed. Zhao slashed into the left elbow area, drawing defenders like a magnet.

Tracy McGrady rotated immediately, stepping up to help. Charles Oakley surged out from under the basket, charging hard to form a triple-team on Zhao Dong along with Jordan and T-Mac.

Rasheed Wallace, holding down the low block on the left side, shifted to the rim to cut off Zhao's drive and crash the glass if needed.

At that moment, Wang Zhizhi, aka "The Great Wall," made a sharp backdoor cut, sliding behind Rasheed straight to the hoop.

Zhao Dong spotted him instantly and fired a slick pass. Wang caught it under the rim—one-on-one with Rasheed.

He didn't waste a second.

With Oakley spinning back to recover, Wang took a power dribble and began backing Rasheed down at the edge of the restricted area, trying to create space before the double could clamp down.

Oakley wasn't having it. He lunged back toward the basket, about to trap Wang in a tight squeeze.

But Wang Zhizhi surprised everyone—he suddenly lobbed the ball over Oakley's head just as the double-team arrived.

"Aw hell, Zhao Dong!" Oakley cursed.

The air shifted. A shadow loomed.

Zhao Dong had cut baseline the moment Oakley switched off him. As the lob flew, he exploded into the paint, caught it one-handed in mid-air, soared past Oakley's back, and threw down a vicious dunk right over Rasheed.

"BOOM!"

The rim rattled as Rasheed Wallace hit the floor, crashing beneath the weight of the jam.

"BEEP!"

The whistle echoed. The ref pointed straight at Rasheed and called the foul—blocking, and-one.

"OH YEAH!" the home announcer screamed. "Zhao Dong just baptized Rasheed Wallace! That was a straight-up poster and a message: don't get in my way!"

"That was beautiful, man! The two-man chemistry between Zhao Dong and Wang Zhizhi down low was next-level!" Marv praised on the NBC broadcast.

Matt Goukas added, "Ever since Ewing left, the Knicks' paint presence hasn't been the same. They've been missing both height and consistent post offense."

Marv Albert chimed in, "Right. The only real interior scorer has been Zhao Dong, but he plays the three. You can't build your whole post game around a small forward."

"But this," Goukas said, "This kind of play from Wang and Zhao? That's the answer. Wang's got size, vision, and a soft touch. He can pass out of doubles and finish plays. Oakley, Fordson, even Ben Wallace in the past—they didn't have the height or court sense under the basket."

As Rasheed groaned and picked himself up off the hardwood, covered in sweat and dust, rage burned in his eyes.

During the next possession, he lined up next to Wang Zhizhi for a rebound and started jawing.

"Back the hell off, Chinese boy," Rasheed barked, throwing a sneaky elbow into Wang's chest.

Wang's mind echoed with Zhao Dong's words from past training sessions: "If someone tries you, you hit back. Don't ever let 'em punk you."

At the free-throw line, Zhao Dong stepped up for the and-one.

"BANG!" The ball clanged off the rim, bouncing high.

Wang leaped—snatching the board with both hands. As he landed, elbows flared naturally to protect the ball.

"CRACK!"

"AHHHH!"

His left elbow smacked right into Rasheed's face. The big man dropped like a stone, clutching his cheek, howling in pain and rolling across the floor.

"BEEP!"

The referee hesitated, then blew his whistle.

Zhao Dong ran over, arms raised. "Ref, c'mon. That was a clean rebound! Wang was just protecting the ball—he wasn't out here swinging for heads."

Jordan rushed in, face hot with anger. "You kidding me? That was a straight elbow. No. 45 needs to be tossed!"

Zhao Dong snapped, "Then what about Rasheed's cheap shot on the free throw? Y'all think we didn't see that elbow? You want me to swing one at you and see how it feels?"

Jordan, caught off guard, went silent.

The ref quickly stepped between them. "Cool it. Both of you. Cameras are everywhere. Don't give Stern a reason to come down on this game."

The ruling stood: offensive foul on the Knicks. Ball to the Bulls.

"BOOOOO!"

The Garden crowd erupted in disapproval, drowning the court in noise.

Rasheed finally stood, a red mark swelling on his cheek, no blood but clearly hurting.

Zhao Dong walked up to Jordan and nodded toward Rasheed.

"He look like you did when Karl Malone elbowed you last time. You remember that flop? I do. I can feel that pain."

Rasheed clenched his jaw, fists tight at his side. But he didn't move. Not toward Zhao Dong, not toward anything.

He knew better.

Jordan's face twisted in disbelief. "This some bullshit. I didn't roll like that."

Zhao Dong turned back to Wang, locking eyes with him.

"Next time someone tries to strip your board, make sure they regret it. Swing if you got to. One elbow is louder than a hundred words. That's how we learned. You're a pro now. Time to act like one. Bleeding? Who cares. Get back up and finish the fight."

Wang's knuckles tightened. He nodded. "Yeah. Fuck that guy."

Back on the sideline, Jordan glared at Oakley.

"Man, back when you were with the Knicks, you were the first one to throw hands. Now you're all soft with the Bulls."

Oakley shrugged. "I play ball, Mike. That's it. Don't ask me to swing at the team I built my career with. Eight seasons with the Knicks—that's my squad, like it or not."

The Bulls had possession.

"Drop!"

Before the ball even crossed half court, the ref blew his whistle and pointed straight at Rasheed Wallace, signaling an offensive foul. The pushing motion of his hand confirmed it.

"Man, what the hell?!" Rasheed snapped, nostrils flaring in frustration. "What did I even do?!"

Unable to keep his emotions in check, he stormed toward the referee, yelling, "Yo, which damn eye of yours saw a foul?! I didn't touch nobody, NOTHING!"

"Rasheed! Chill, man! Don't do anything stupid!" Jordan rushed over, trying to calm him down before things escalated.

Too late.

The ref raised his hand and slapped Rasheed Wallace with a technical foul.

Wallace was about to explode again when Jordan shoved him back to keep things from getting worse.

On the sideline, Zhao Dong leaned toward Fordson and said with a smirk, "Danny, don't ever learn from that clown."

Fordson chuckled. "I got you, boss."

Matt Goukas broke it down from the booth. "That's vintage Rasheed Wallace—man's always one shout away from a tech. He did give Zhao Dong a light push during movement, though. Not much contact, but since we're at Madison Square Garden, the refs gave it to the Knicks. Home court whistle."

Marv Albert followed up. "Last season, Rasheed led the league in techs, right above Fordson. But Fordson's learned to keep his head cool this year. That's why the Knicks held on to him. He's more efficient now, stays on the floor longer."

Goukas added, "That's Zhao Dong's impact. In the Bulls' locker room, Jordan's still the man, but his presence isn't as forceful as Zhao Dong's is in New York."

Marv laughed. "If you can knock out Tyson in a fight, who the hell's gonna question your leadership?"

"I heard Zhao Dong's got another fight lined up after the season. Might be against Lennox Lewis or even Holyfield. A real world title match."

"The NBA's gotta be careful. They don't wanna lose one of their biggest stars to the boxing world," Marv joked.

The two commentators cracked up.

Back on the floor, the Knicks sank the technical free throw. Score: 12–19, Knicks lead, and they had possession.

Zhao Dong set up on the left block. Fordson and Dazhi pulled defenders out of the paint, clearing space.

Rasheed tried to cover Zhao Dong while watching Dazhi out of the corner of his eye, afraid of getting back-cut again.

But just then, Sprewell made his move—cutting hard between Jordan and Rasheed. Zhao Dong hit him with a slick no-look dime from the post, and Sprewell finished the layup clean.

Bulls ball. 12–21.

Phil Jackson didn't wait—he signaled timeout.

Goukas analyzed the play. "That's textbook from the Knicks. Zhao Dong drew the defense with the strong-side post-up, then they hit the cutter from the weak side. Way higher success rate than trying to pass out to the perimeter."

Marv nodded. "Back in the Bulls' championship run, you had Grant in the paint, Pippen cutting hard, and Jordan slashing—tons of inside offense. This team? On paper, they might be stronger, but their cutting game isn't the same."

"McGrady's still young, and Jordan's aging," Goukas agreed. "So yeah, this version of the Bulls just doesn't have that same slashing power."

Marv added, "They've gotta ramp up their inside game to boost their shooting percentage. Right now, the Knicks are showing a totally different offensive set from the last game, and Chicago's got no answers defensively."

"In the last matchup, they did a great job locking down Zhao Dong's efficiency," said Goukas. "This time, he's not even trying to score as much—he's playmaking from the post. Bulls gotta cut off those passing lanes and keep him from setting the tempo."

On the Bulls' bench, Phil Jackson laid out the adjustments.

"If Zhao Dong's operating from the perimeter, same plan as last game. Let one guy go, double-team him, and don't let him inside the free throw line. If we're giving someone space, it's Billups. Leave him open from deep."

He turned to Rasheed. "You stay locked on Wang. Don't let him get to the rim. If he pulls out to shoot…"

Phil paused. Wang had 13 of the Knicks' 21 points. His offense was nothing to sleep on.

He thought it over, then said, "Give him some space. If he catches the ball, close out hard. We can live with low-percentage jumpers."

He continued, "If Zhao Dong drops to the block and Fordson pulls out, we can ignore Fordson. Focus everything on Zhao Dong. Rasheed, release Wang and slide to help from the weak side—cut off the pass between Zhao Dong and Wang."

Timeout over. 8-minute mark, first quarter.

The Knicks made a change—Billups subbed out, Hu Weidong came in.

The Bulls swapped Oakley for Kurt Thomas but kept their perimeter lineup.

Next possession, Jordan created some space off the dribble. Kidd dished it to him quickly. Jordan caught it, quick stop, pull-up jumper—money.

"Get back on D!" the Bulls' assistant coach shouted from the bench.

But the Knicks were already gone.

From the baseline, a two-handed overhead inbound launched straight downcourt to Zhao Dong, who was sprinting full speed.

Zhao Dong's vision and passing were top-tier—better than Ben's, and definitely sharper than Fordson's. He delivered darts in transition with surgical precision.

He caught it clean and burst into the frontcourt. Kidd and Jordan chased him hard, trying to poke the ball free as he crossed the arc…

Zhao Dong pulled up at the top of the key, clutched the ball with both hands, rose straight into the air, spun mid-air, scanned the court, and then fired a quick pass to the left wing. The ball found Sprewell, standing behind the three-point line.

Sprewell caught it clean. Just as McGrady rushed over to contest, he whipped it across the arc to Hu Weidong, wide open on the right wing. Hu caught it, set his feet, and stared down the rim for a full second. Calmly, he pulled up.

Splash!

The net snapped as the ball swished through.

"That's smooth! Hu Weidong nails a wide-open three right after checking in!" Sun Zhenping shouted excitedly on the Chinese broadcast.

Zhang Heli followed up with analysis. "Old Nelson just flipped the switch again. He subbed out Billups—whose offense wasn't steady—with Hu Weidong and turned up the tempo. They're using Zhao Dong's rim pressure to collapse the Bulls' defense, then swinging it out for open looks. Simple but deadly."

On the NBC broadcast, Marv Albert chimed in. "This is why Nelson's a legend. The man adjusts on the fly—always shifting gears. Phil Jackson didn't react fast enough after that last timeout, and now Nelson's changed things up again. It's chess out there, and right now Nelson's three moves ahead."

Matt Goukas added, laughing, "I wouldn't be surprised if the Bulls called another timeout."

Sure enough, as soon as the Bulls inbounded, Phil Jackson signaled for another timeout—just one possession later. He wasn't messing around. Something in the Knicks' flow was breaking his scheme, and he needed to patch it quick.

Back on the Knicks' bench, Nelson chuckled. "This time, we'll catch 'em off guard again."

Zhao Dong and the other players just rolled their eyes.

Man, this guy changes plays like he's flipping through a TV remote...

Coming out of the timeout, Nelson made another bold sub—Ben Wallace checked in for the hot-handed Dazhi.

"Wallace coming in for Dazhi shows Nelson's targeting the paint now," Zhang Heli explained on CCTV. "This isn't just about keeping fresh legs; it's about shoring up interior defense and rebounding. Phil Jackson's timeout probably means he's adjusting his offense, so Nelson's already one step ahead, plugging the lane."

Game resumed. Bulls' possession.

Jason Kidd drove hard, cutting through the defense, but as he reached the rim, he got swarmed—Ben Wallace and Zhao Dong collapsed on him under the basket. Kidd kicked it out to McGrady at the top of the arc, who fired a three.

Clank!

Missed.

Ben Wallace snatched the board. Zhao Dong grabbed the outlet and took off in transition.

"The Knicks are running again! Hu and Sprewell are sprinting up the floor! Zhao Dong looking to hit someone with a long pass..." the MSG arena commentator roared.

Hu Weidong caught the deep dish, with Jordan hot on his trail. As Jordan closed in, Hu flipped it left to Sprewell on the wing. McGrady gave chase. Sprewell took one dribble, then zipped it back to Zhao Dong at the top.

Boom.

As soon as Zhao Dong touched it, the Bulls' defense panicked. Rasheed Wallace and other closed in. But they left the paint wide open—Fordson had snuck in from the weak side.

Zhao Dong lobbed it over the top.

Fordson timed his jump perfectly, rose up, and with both hands, hammered the alley-oop home.

BOOM!

"The alley-oop! Zhao Dong with the dime, Fordson with the jam! The Knicks' fast break is on fire!" the arena exploded with energy.

Zhang Heli shouted from the CCTV booth, "See? Strengthening the interior worked! Nelson's already countered Phil Jackson's playbook. Old Nelson's tactics are unreal—Phil just can't keep up."

The first quarter buzzer rang.

Score: Knicks 30, Bulls 18. A 12-point lead in Madison Square Garden.

Matt Goukas was full of praise. "The Knicks are clicking. They're moving the ball, dominating inside, draining jumpers, forcing turnovers, and running the floor. Nelson's using Zhao Dong as a decoy and a playmaker. That 7-assist quarter was insane."

Marv Albert added, "Zhao Dong didn't force a single shot. Five-of-five from the field, seven dimes, no turnovers—that's surgical basketball. Phil Jackson gambled, thinking Zhao Dong would look to score, but instead, Nelson ran the offense through him as a distributor. Complete misread."

Zhang Heli echoed the sentiment in China. "All season, folks said if Zhao Dong passed less, the Knicks would score more. But today, it's the opposite. He passed more—and the Knicks went off for 30 points in the first quarter. The Bulls only got 18. That's the impact of smart adjustments and high basketball IQ."

As the second quarter started, Phil Jackson looked to regain control, switching defenses and tweaking lineups. But his reliance on the triangle offense—with minimal tactical variations—made it easy for Nelson to anticipate and counter.

Nelson stayed proactive, never letting Phil settle. The Knicks kept switching looks—sometimes playing through Zhao Dong, sometimes running quick handoffs for shooters like Hu Weidong or Sprewell, and occasionally pounding the paint with Ben Wallace or Fordson.

Jordan did his best to will the Bulls back in it. He got his mid-range going, but the supporting cast was shaky. Kemp had trouble handling Zhao Dong inside. Kidd couldn't break through the Knicks' rotation defense.

By the fourth quarter, it was clear: the Bulls were chasing shadows.

The final buzzer sounded:

Knicks 105, Bulls 84.

A 21-point statement win at home.

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