NBA: The Dynasty Crusher (Basketball)

The Knicks began their possession.

Sprewell drifted along the three-point line, curling into the right corner. Kidd trailed him, biting on the movement and stretching the Bulls' perimeter defense out wide.

At the same time, Billups handed the rock to Zhao Dong in the post, then took off, sprinting across the arc to the top. His movement wasn't just for show—it was to bait Jordan away from the action, trying to stop him from helping inside. But MJ wasn't fooled. He gave Billups a step and locked his eyes on Zhao Dong.

Zhao Dong caught the ball and instantly attacked. He shifted gears with a quick crossover, then bulldozed through McGrady with a shoulder bump, blowing by him into the paint.

Down low on the right side, Barkley stepped out, dragging Oakley away from the rim to prevent help defense.

Simultaneously, the Knicks' big man on the left side slipped toward the basket, forcing Rasheed to stay home and avoid contesting Zhao Dong's drive.

With both interior defenders occupied, Jordan was the only one left to help.

Zhao Dong reached the left elbow, stopped on a dime, stiff-armed Jordan with his right, and floated the ball high off the glass.

Bang! It banked in clean.

Zhang Heli exclaimed from the commentary booth, "That's beautiful basketball. And it's not just Zhao Dong's finish—it's the whole sequence. That's a five-man play right there.

The Knicks made it look easy, but every piece of that offense was calculated. From Zhao Dong to Billups, to Barkley and the bigs—everyone moved with purpose. They pulled the Bulls' defense apart, making sure Zhao Dong didn't see a double. Once that defense was stretched, it was automatic."

On the Bulls' bench, Phil Jackson looked calm, but inside, his mind was racing.

The Knicks had surprised him. They rolled out Barkley and Wang as their frontcourt—an old vet and a rookie—neither of whom were starters in the regular season. That curveball caught him completely off guard.

Now it was the Bulls' turn.

The Knicks dropped into a 2-1-2 zone, with Zhao Dong anchoring the middle—the same spot Jordan usually patrolled.

Zhao Dong had his hands full tonight. Defense wasn't his strong suit, and Barkley's legs weren't what they used to be. That meant the paint was vulnerable. He had to cover ground.

At the top, Kidd directed traffic, flashing a hand signal. It was a slash-and-cut play—Phil Jackson's call. The Knicks' interior defense was clearly weaker tonight, so the Bulls wanted to attack the cup and boost their efficiency.

The play design called for Jordan to swing to the right wing. If he had a shot, take it. If not, draw help and dish to the weak-side cutter.

But when MJ got the pass from Kidd, nobody came. No double. Just Sprewell guarding him solo.

Jordan didn't hesitate. He elevated and nailed a smooth mid-range jumper.

As he jogged back, it hit him—Zhao Dong wasn't bluffing. If the Knicks were serious about leaving him single-covered, he might just drop 50 tonight.

"Damn," Jordan muttered under his breath. "Last game they doubled me all over the floor. Now I don't even get a second defender? What, I ain't even worth that anymore?"

He wasn't flattered. He was pissed.

To him, this was disrespect of the highest order. Since his rookie year, nobody—nobody—dared to let him play isolation without help coming.

You don't double a scrub. You double a killer. You double a superstar.

"Old? You think I'm washed? You think I'm done? You wanna clown me like this? Alright. I'll hang 50. Hell, I'll hang 60."

His eyes lit up with fire.

Next Knicks possession.

Same wing-based set. Zhao Dong took McGrady off the bounce, slicing into the lane again.

This time, Jordan rotated early to cut him off.

McGrady recovered, so Zhao Dong was sandwiched. But instead of forcing it, he dished the ball behind Jordan to a cutting Billups.

Swish! Easy layup under the screen from Dazhi.

Bulls came back with another iso look for Jordan.

The triangle offense? Yeah, that was just a front—this was about getting MJ his.

Back in the day, they needed all that motion just to set him up with space. Tonight? The space was gifted.

Jordan caught the ball and saw Barkley sagging off, not even bothering to challenge.

"Hmph," he scoffed.

"Go ahead and shoot!" Barkley hollered, arms out.

"Shut up!" Jordan snapped, took one dribble back, and launched a fadeaway.

Swish.

Money.

"Get ready, Zhao Dong. I'm dropping 80 tonight," Jordan growled, backpedaling.

Zhao Dong waved him off. "Dude, what is this, your villain arc? I'm giving you your shots and you still crying about it? You a masochist or something?"

4-4. Knicks ball.

They ran it back.

This time, Sprewell made the cut.

He slid from the right wing to the top. Billups set a hard screen on Kidd, giving Sprewell the lane. Zhao Dong zipped him the bounce pass.

Easy layup.

Bulls pushed back down.

Jordan got another look. Same one-on-one coverage.

He rose—missed it. Sprewell held his ground.

6-4. Knicks in front.

Next play, Jordan shaded too close to the arc, afraid to give space.

Zhao Dong saw the gap. One hard dribble, burst to the rim. Rasheed stepped up, but it was too late.

Zhao Dong lobbed it—Dazhi caught it in stride and slammed it home!

8-4.

Timeout, Bulls.

Marv broke down the action live on NBC:

"From what we've seen in the opening minutes, the Knicks are fully committed to attacking the low post. All four of their first shots came right at the rim—three layups and one close-range jumper. Four-for-four. That's elite efficiency."

He continued, shifting to the Bulls:

"Now, Jordan got three iso looks and nailed two of them. Also solid, but clearly the mid-range just doesn't match the paint in terms of efficiency.

"What I really like is how clear the Knicks' offensive system looks tonight. It's built around Zhao Dong drawing defensive attention. Once he does that, the rest of the squad is constantly cutting into space. It's basic, but it's effective."

Marv pointed at the monitor:

"This approach thrives off Zhao Dong's gravity. Barkley and Wang both have solid post presence and spacing skills. You can't leave them open. So the Bulls' interior defenders can't just help off them to trap Zhao outside the paint. And honestly, Michael and T-Mac can't shut Zhao down in a 2-on-1 either—not his scoring or his passing."

On the sideline, Matt chimed in:

"The big issue Phil Jackson's dealing with is that Jordan's not drawing the Knicks' double-team. His teammates aren't finding clean looks, so he's forced to take it himself. But I think he should try slashing more. Oakley and Rasheed can pull defenders out and open up lanes."

---

Bulls Timeout — Bench Huddle

Phil Jackson leaned in, direct and clear:

"Michael, Tracy—attack the paint. I want more efficiency."

He turned to Rasheed:

"Rasheed, give Wang a little space—don't hug up. Focus on helping Michael and T-Mac trap Zhao at the edge of the paint. Charles, sag off Barkley—he's not a threat from deep. But watch for the openings Rasheed leaves inside. That's where they're hitting us. Be ready to rotate the second he moves out."

---

Back to the Action — Bulls Ball

Jordan and McGrady took off on opposite wings, running clean patterns. The Knicks didn't chase. No traps. Just solid zone defense. Wherever they moved, a Knicks defender was always waiting in that zone—never more than a step or two away. No space. No air.

Rasheed stepped up from the low post to set a high screen for McGrady. T-Mac used it clean, slicing toward the rim. Kidd saw it and zipped a pass his way.

"Snap!"

McGrady caught it in stride, eyes locked on the rim—ready to hammer it home.

But Zhao Dong was already back.

"Clang!"

Zhao timed it perfectly. He went up strong and erased McGrady's dunk at the rim.

The United Center let out a collective groan of disappointment.

"Aww man!"

T-Mac had been putting on a show all season. The Bulls, one of the league's hottest tickets, gave him the spotlight. Like Kobe over in L.A., he was the rising star. Fans loved his smooth game and highlight dunks. He wasn't as explosive as his cousin Vince Carter, but he had his own flair. Bulls fans were hyped every time he rose up.

---

Knicks Possession

Same playbook. No changes. Knicks ran it back.

Don Nelson had no reason to switch it up. The Bulls hadn't adjusted yet. That meant the set was still working.

Of their first four possessions, three had been finishes at the rim. Only one had gone to Zhao in the post. This wing-heavy tactic was built to generate premium paint looks. The perimeter cuts were just bait.

Now, McGrady tried to body up Zhao Dong—but again, he got rocked.

Zhao shoved him off like a bull tossing hay.

Phil Jackson just shook his head on the sideline. Nothing he could do.

McGrady was pushing 97 kilos. Zhao? 115. That 18-kilo gap showed up every time they collided. The strength difference was brutal. T-Mac just couldn't hold the line.

This time, as Zhao approached the paint, Rasheed stepped up quick to cut him off.

But Zhao, calm and slick, scooped the ball low, palmed it one-handed, and fired a bounce pass straight through Rasheed's legs.

It was a dime.

Rasheed didn't even see it until he turned—and by then, it was too late.

Dazhi was already airborne.

"Bang!"

Before Oakley could rotate over, Dazhi slammed it home with authority.

Marv Albert couldn't hold back.

"Beautiful read and finish! That's what separates offensive-minded bigs from defensive specialists. You can slack off a guy who only defends—it won't kill you. But leave an offensive weapon open down low? That's a wrap. He'll drop 30 on your head and won't miss a beat doing it."

Score: 10–4. Bulls trail.

---

Bulls Backcourt

Jordan slapped McGrady on the back, his tone serious but calm.

"Yo, T-Mac, when you drive, look for the pass. Don't just tunnel on the rim. Think out there."

"I got you, Mike." McGrady nodded, focused.

Truth was, playing with Jordan was stressful as hell. The pressure was constant—relentless. Some days it felt like his brain was gonna snap.

But it was also helping him grow fast.

Jordan's mentorship was pushing him toward greatness. The faster development, the confidence, the sharper reads—it all came from this high-stakes grind. He could see himself becoming a star. And that hope grounded him.

The pressure came and went like waves, but each time, he came out stronger—mentally, emotionally, physically.

He was grateful. Even if Jordan was hard on him, he knew he was better for it.

In a way, McGrady's journey with the Bulls mirrored what Dazhi was going through in New York. Zhao Dong was pressing Dazhi the same way. The difference? McGrady was getting more touches, more reps.

That's why Zhao had already told Dazhi—next season, time to leave the Knicks.

---

Back on the Floor

McGrady brought it up and attacked straight off the dribble. Zhao rotated fast and sank in to cover.

T-Mac exploded toward the rim—right into Zhao's path.

But this time, he didn't finish. He tossed the ball back mid-air.

Jordan caught it at full sprint on the right wing, just a step outside the paint. One dribble—he was in.

Barkley rotated over, but it was too late.

"BOOM!"

Jordan rose and detonated at the rim.

Zhao turned mid-air, trying to recover—but Jordan blew right by him and crushed the basket.

The United Center erupted.

---

Knicks Inbound 

No time to talk trash.

The Knicks had already flipped the switch.

McGrady, Jordan, Rasheed, and Oakley were all under the rim or near the low post. Kidd was the only man outside.

As soon as Jordan landed, Kidd spun and sprinted the break.

After grabbing the rebound, Dazhi quickly retreated to the baseline. Barkley picked up the ball and immediately tossed it to him, but Dazhi didn't inbound it right away.

Zhao Dong came flying over the top of the arc, cutting hard and fast. He sidestepped Kidd, brushing his shoulder just enough to make contact. Kidd stumbled slightly, losing his balance—he couldn't stop Zhao Dong now.

"Brother Dong!" Dazhi shouted, launching a deep lead pass several meters ahead.

Zhao Dong caught it in stride just past halfcourt. The lane was wide open—no defenders in sight. He took two power dribbles, picked up speed, and took flight from the free throw line.

The entire United Center gasped in unison.

"...It's over."

They watched as Zhao Dong's body arched mid-air, back bowed like a drawn bowstring. The sheer force he was about to unleash felt palpable.

"Is he gonna break the backboard again?!"

In that instant, every Bulls fan remembered the destruction at the Great Western Forum—Lakers territory.

"Shit!" Jordan cursed as he chased desperately, one step too late.

BANG!

Zhao Dong pulled his core tight, then unleashed hell with both arms. The rim shrieked. The transparent glass backboard shattered on impact, exploding into glittering fragments that rained down like confetti.

"It's really broken!"

The hearts of 20,000 Chicago fans sank.

"AHHHHHH!!"

Zhao Dong landed hard, pumping his fists and roaring toward the rafters.

Barkley and the Knicks bench stormed the court in celebration.

"YEAHHH!" shouted the few hundred Knicks fans who scored away tickets, their cheers immediately swallowed by the deafening booing of the Chicago fans.

"I got a suggestion for the league," said Matt Goukas, chuckling on commentary. "Time to change the supplier. We need stronger glass."

Marv Albert added, "Anybody wanna bet with me? I'm putting money down that Zhao Dong's gonna shatter another one before the game's over."

"It's not just about the dunk," Goukas said. "This is psychological warfare. Zhao Dong is trying to shake the Bulls' confidence right at home."

"There's no better way to kill a team's morale," Marv agreed. "Just look at their faces—they're rattled."

"If the Knicks win tonight, they go up 3–1," said Goukas. "At that point, the Bulls have to win three straight to come back. That's almost impossible."

Marv turned to him. "Coach's perspective—why do you think the Bulls, with this championship-level roster, are struggling against the Knicks?"

"Well," Goukas said, "First, Jordan's aging. Meanwhile, Zhao Dong's in his prime. The Knicks stopped doubling Jordan, but the Bulls still can't afford to solo Zhao Dong. That's the difference. Second, the Knicks aren't any weaker talent-wise. Third, I'd say New York's coaching staff has been sharper—more balanced offense and better adjustments."

On the sidelines, both benches were already locked in, working through their next moves.

Back on the court, Zhao Dong glanced over at the Bulls cheerleaders dancing wildly.

"Damn, they're going all out," he muttered with a smirk. "Let's keep them dancing all night."

"Haha…" Barkley and the rest burst into laughter.

Fifteen minutes later, the shattered backboard was finally replaced, and the game resumed.

As both squads took the court, Zhao Dong turned and shouted across to Jordan:

"Yo MJ! When you want the next long-ass timeout? I can break another one if you need fifteen more minutes."

Pfft! Barkley cracked up instantly.

Jordan glared back and fired, "Careful you don't break your damn hand!"

Zhao Dong grinned. "Cool. If you need another break, just holla—I got you."

"Get lost!" Jordan growled.

Barkley was dying laughing.

But then Jordan turned his fire on Barkley: "Charles, how's it feel leechin' off someone else's shine? You could win a hundred rings, and they still wouldn't be worth one of mine."

The laughter stopped cold. Barkley's face stiffened like he'd been punched in the chest.

The Bulls took possession.

McGrady and Jordan moved in sync, cutting hard off the ball. Kidd held the rock at the top of the arc, scanning. The Bulls' bigs set up screens down low.

Suddenly, Oakley popped out from the low post, pulling Barkley away from the paint. That cleared a massive lane between the left low block and Zhao Dong's zone.

McGrady read it instantly. He slashed into the gap like a knife.

Kidd fired a perfect pass, and T-Mac caught it on the move, sprinting into the lane.

Zhao Dong rotated quickly, collapsing into the paint to contest.

But Jordan had already broken free on the weak side, leaving Sprewell in the dust.

McGrady dished. Jordan caught it mid-step, pulled up, and drilled the short jumper.

Swish.

(End of Chapter)

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