"Alan, switch up on defense!"
Zhao Dong sprinted back on defense, locking his eyes on Jordan.
This wasn't part of the game plan—this was his own call.
Houston had the offense, but his defense was weak. He couldn't check Jordan, even with help defense. The double-team wasn't quick enough to cut off Jordan's passing lanes. Zhao Dong figured it was better if he handled it himself.
"Rookie, you really that eager to get cooked?"
Standing at the right-wing three-point line, Jordan dribbled casually, gave a slight pull-up fake, and talked his usual trash.
"Come on, Jordan," Zhao Dong said coldly, his face unreadable. "Let's see if you really got it like that."
Then, without warning, he stepped up, closing the gap.
He wasn't about to sit back and react to Jordan's moves. He knew MJ had the speed and footwork advantage—waiting on him was a death sentence.
As soon as Zhao Dong pressed up, Jordan instinctively turned his back to shield the ball.
He wanted to spin off and attack, but Zhao Dong stuck to him like glue, throwing his weight into him just enough to disrupt his balance. Jordan couldn't pivot cleanly—the pressure threw off his center of gravity.
That's when Zhao Dong made his move. He slid left with quick, precise steps and swiped at the ball with his left hand.
Jordan saw it. His elite coordination kicked in, and he adjusted instantly, regaining his balance just in time. The moment Zhao Dong reached, MJ spun right, looking to break free.
But he took the bait.
Zhao Dong had no intention of actually going for the steal—it was just a setup. The second Jordan committed to the spin, Zhao Dong fell back a step, planting himself right in the lane.
Jordan turned straight into him.
Boom!
MJ's shoulder hit Zhao Dong's chest, and he lost control of the ball for a split second. Charlie Ward swooped in for the double-team.
"Steal! Charlie Ward rips Jordan! Zhao Dong on the break—" Matt Goukas shouted over the broadcast.
Zhao Dong took off, and Jordan, knowing he had lost the ball, immediately turned to hustle back. But by the time he reached half-court, it was too late. Charlie Ward hit Zhao Dong in stride, and he barreled into the Bulls' paint.
Ron Harper sprinted back but hesitated at the rim. He wanted no part of that smoke.
BOOM!
Zhao Dong threw down a vicious tomahawk slam. The rim shook. The United Center went dead silent.
"YEAH!"
The three thousand Knicks fans in the building exploded.
"Listen up!"
Zhao Dong turned to his teammates, his voice booming over the stunned arena.
"We already whooped their asses in this building once, and we're doing it again. They ain't special! We're up 2-1, and we're sending 'em home! Jordan can't stop us! Nobody can stop us! We're slaughtering the Bulls tonight—RIGHT HERE!"
"Slaughter the Bulls!"
Oakley was the first to yell back, his voice raw with intensity.
"Slaughter the Bulls!"
The rest of the squad roared in unison.
"Slaughter the Bulls!"
Even the Knicks bench and their traveling fans were chanting.
"Let's go, Zhao Dong! You're the best!"
Lindsay stood courtside, clapping and screaming.
The Bulls fans finally woke up, drowning everything out with deafening boos and chants.
"Zhao Dong is firing up his team, trying to shake the Bulls' home-court advantage," Marv Albert commented. "But this is Chicago—this is the dynasty's house. The Knicks will need more than just talk to take this one."
2-5, Bulls ball.
Zhao Dong squared up with Jordan again.
Van Gundy stayed quiet. He knew Houston had no shot at guarding MJ. Zhao Dong taking over on defense was a risk, but maybe it would pay off.
"Let him cook first," he muttered to Thibodeau.
The upside? Zhao Dong was elite on the perimeter. Even though he was a bigger player checking a smaller one, he might hold up better than Houston.
The downside? Pippen was now free to run the offense.
Harper pushed the ball up, and Pippen shook off Houston, cutting hard toward the hoop. Harper hit him with a clean pass.
The Knicks' defense collapsed on him immediately, leaving the perimeter vulnerable. Even Zhao Dong took a step toward the paint, giving Jordan a couple of feet of space.
Pippen caught the ball just outside the paint. Seeing Jordan open, he instinctively whipped the pass back out.
But that was exactly what Zhao Dong wanted.
He had no intention of collapsing all the way—Ewing and Oakley had the paint covered. If they couldn't stop Pippen inside, there was no point in him rotating over. Leaving Jordan completely open? That was basketball suicide.
So the second Pippen released the pass, Zhao Dong shot back out, closing the gap just in time.
Jordan caught the ball, and Zhao Dong was already in his face, reaching for a steal.
MJ reacted instantly, bouncing the ball hard off the floor and spinning to his right. He had the angle.
Zhao Dong recovered fast, cutting off his drive. He knew Jordan wouldn't go all the way into the paint—too crowded. MJ's go-to move was the mid-range pull-up.
And right on cue, Jordan took two steps in and rose for the jumper.
Zhao Dong was ready.
He took a hard step forward and leaped, extending for the block.
Got a piece!
The ball deflected slightly. Not a full swat, but enough to throw off the shot.
Both players landed, and Zhao Dong immediately boxed Jordan out, sealing him behind. He grabbed the loose ball.
"Ohhh! Zhao Dong got a hand on Jordan's jumper!" Marv Albert exclaimed.
Zhao Dong fired an outlet pass to Charlie Ward and sprinted downcourt.
By the time he crossed half-court, he had the ball back, pushing the tempo.
Jordan sprinted back, keeping pace. He had a step on Zhao Dong by the time they hit the three-point line, cutting him off at the left block.
Zhao Dong didn't stop.
He read Jordan's stance and made a sharp cut right, slicing into the paint. Jordan's left arm was on him, trying to hold him back, but Zhao Dong had the strength advantage.
One more step, and he exploded upward toward the rim.
Jordan wasn't strong enough to stop Zhao Dong's drive, and he got bodied straight to the floor in the paint.
"Beep!"
The whistle blew.
"Bang!"
Zhao Dong threw down another vicious tomahawk dunk, shaking the Bulls' rim again.
The crowd let out a shocked "Oh!" before quickly turning into a loud chorus of boos, drowning out the cheers from Knicks fans in attendance.
"Jordan, you just gonna stand there like a damn traffic cone?" Zhao Dong smirked, talking his trash while Jordan picked himself up.
Jordan's face darkened, his teeth grinding. Getting ripped once, blocked once, and now called for a foul—it was getting embarrassing, especially on his home court.
The ref walked over, signaling the bucket was good. Jordan had committed a defensive foul, giving Zhao Dong an and-one opportunity.
"God of Gamblers, you tryna bet on this free throw?" Zhao Dong taunted as he stepped to the line, looking right at Jordan.
Jordan snorted. "You think I'm stupid? What, I'm supposed to bet on you making it?"
"Swish!"
Nothing but net.
5-5. Bulls' possession.
Pippen kept working the left wing, constantly cutting inside to force the Knicks' defense to collapse. This time, he got the ball right at the edge of the paint, but with four bigs from both teams in the restricted area, there was no space to operate. Oakley was in his face, so Pippen had to settle for a short jumper.
Brick.
Ewing grabbed the board.
Zhao Dong took off again in transition, but this time Jordan and Harper weren't about to let him get another easy one. They sprinted back and walled up at the left sideline of the paint, ready to take the hit if necessary.
But Zhao Dong had other plans—he flicked a quick pass to Charlie Ward, who was cutting down the middle from the free-throw line.
Ward caught it in stride, took two steps, and finished a smooth layup. Harper had no chance to recover in time.
7-5, Knicks lead. Bulls call timeout.
---
On NBC, Marv Albert broke it down: "The Bulls' biggest issue right now is the lack of a stretch big. Between Luc Longley and Rodman, their combined offensive production barely matches Oakley's, and they're still a whole Patrick Ewing away from a legit scoring presence inside."
Matt Goukas nodded. "That's exactly why the Knicks can camp two bigs in the paint all game. Pippen's trying to create space with those cuts, but the problem is, Zhao Dong isn't sagging into the restricted area. Jordan isn't getting clean looks, and Pippen's attempts to collapse the defense aren't working. Honestly, they'd be better off just giving it straight to Jordan and letting him go to work."
Over on CCTV, Zhang Heli was hyped. "Zhao Dong's defensive switch onto Jordan has been a masterstroke! He's turned defense into offense with three straight fast breaks, leading the Knicks to seven unanswered points."
"Zhao Dong's stat line already looking solid," Sun Zhenping added with a grin. "2-for-2 from the field, 5 points, 1 assist, 1 steal, and 1 block—hell of a start!"
---
On the Bulls' bench, Phil Jackson wasn't happy.
"Be mindful of Zhao Dong's transition game," he warned. "His speed and power are terrifying—none of us can stop him once he gets going.
"Michael, slow him down in transition. Get physical. Don't let him build up momentum.
"And be careful on offense. That guy's a hell of a perimeter defender. Just ask Scottie."
"Damn it," Pippen muttered under his breath, more annoyed at Jackson than anyone else.
Phil decided to shake things up, yanking Luc Longley from the lineup.
Truth be told, Longley had never been anything more than a big body out there. The first two games of the Eastern Conference Finals already proved he couldn't guard Ewing one-on-one. The only reason he hadn't been torched yet was because the Knicks weren't hammering the post.
Now, though, Phil was switching things up, bringing in Toni Kukoc, a 6'10" forward with a leaner frame at 87 kg—lighter than Jordan. But unlike Longley, Kukoc could actually shoot, stretch the floor, and move the ball. He was also the Bulls' best weapon off the bench.
"Tony, pull Oakley out of the paint with your shot," Jackson instructed.
"Scottie, once Oakley steps out, use your cuts to break down the Knicks' defense. Create space for Michael and get open looks for the team."
---
Timeout over. Game back on.
Kukoc did exactly what was expected, floating around the right-wing three-point line, dragging Oakley away from the rim.
Pippen made his move, cutting inside. Rodman kept Ewing locked up, forcing Oakley to abandon Kukoc and return to the paint.
Everything was set up perfectly.
And then Pippen threw the ball to… Jordan.
"Shit!"
Even Phil Jackson lost his composure.
Why the hell are you passing up an open Kukoc for Jordan?
Jordan was expecting Pippen to kick it to Kukoc, too. When the ball suddenly came flying his way, he wasn't ready for it, fumbling it in his hands.
Bad mistake.
Zhao Dong pounced, swiping it clean.
"Bang, bang, bang…"
He was off again, dribbling left-handed, pushing the pace.
Jordan hustled back, staying on his right, trying to disrupt his rhythm. But Zhao Dong was too strong. Jordan, only 88 kg, couldn't body him up. His best bet was to sprint ahead.
By the time they reached the left-wing three-point line, Zhao Dong saw Jordan slightly ahead and suddenly slammed the brakes, switching to a behind-the-back dribble.
Jordan turned his head just in time to see Zhao Dong blow past him.
Foul.
With no other option, Jordan grabbed Zhao Dong from behind.
Zhao Dong didn't even break stride. He dragged Jordan two steps forward, bringing him to the ground with him.
"Beep!"
Whistle.
Jordan got called for the foul, but the Bulls weren't in the penalty yet. Knicks ball, frontcourt inbound.
"This foul is bad news for the Bulls. Jordan's already got two fouls, and we're not even halfway through the quarter. Gotta be one of the side effects of Zhao Dong matching up with him, right?"
Marv Albert said on the NBC broadcast.
"Yeah, and that means Jordan's gotta ease up on defense against Zhao Dong. But no way Phil Jackson takes him out—benching MJ this early is basically waving the white flag," Matt Goukas added.
"They should switch it up—let Pippen handle Zhao Dong full-time," Marv Albert said with a smirk.
"Scottie, Toni Kukoc was wide open. You should've hit him," Jordan said, jogging over to Pippen.
"I don't trust him," Pippen replied bluntly.
Jordan shook his head. "That ain't gonna work. We gotta trust our teammates, especially when they've got an open shot. Scottie, we ain't beating the Knicks if you keep this up. You wanna let that rookie embarrass us?"
Pippen clenched his jaw, throwing a glance at Zhao Dong, who wasn't far off, then at Kukoc, who had stolen his last shot. Between the two, Zhao Dong pissed him off more, so he nodded, gritting his teeth. "I got it. Don't worry."
"Good. Remember, we can't afford to lose this game," Jordan said, his voice low and serious.
"Michael, switch with Scottie!" Phil Jackson barked from the sideline.
Jordan nodded. He couldn't be the primary defender on Zhao Dong all game—it put him at a serious disadvantage, especially when Zhao Dong was pushing the fast break. Trying to lock him up was just draining too much energy.
The Knicks inbounded the ball. Zhao Dong caught it at the high post, immediately drawing a triple-team from Pippen, Jordan, and Rodman. Without hesitation, he kicked it to Allan Houston, who was cutting into the paint.
That's the kind of height advantage Zhao Dong brought on the perimeter. Whether it was Rodman, Jordan, or Pippen, he could see over them all. His vision was on point, and with his wingspan and strong grip, he wasn't losing the ball as long as he kept it high.
With the pass made, the Bulls' double-team collapsed. Rodman had no choice but to recover and rush back to protect the basket.
Zhao Dong followed right behind him into the paint.
Houston took the pass and attacked the rim, but Rodman and Kukoc closed in fast. If he took another step, he was getting swarmed.
He read the defense and immediately dished it to Ewing, who was left open under the hoop.
Ewing caught the ball just as Kukoc turned back, and Rodman lunged at him. A double-team was coming fast. But before they could react, he spotted Zhao Dong streaking toward the rim and shoved the ball up with both hands.
BANG!
Zhao Dong, wide open, exploded off the ground, grabbed the lob with both hands, and threw down a vicious two-handed slam. The entire rim shook from the force.
"We lost him. The Knicks just shredded our defense with crisp passing, and we left the one guy we absolutely shouldn't have wide open..."
The arena commentator's voice dripped with frustration.
"Beautiful! Zhao Dong and Ewing with the alley-oop slam! Score's now 9-5! Zhao Dong's lockdown defense and transition game have sparked a 9-0 run!" Zhang Heli said excitedly.
"That was great ball movement. The Knicks kept breaking down the Bulls' double-teams, creating open looks, and they capitalized," Sun Zhenping added with a grin.
"If Houston had passed to Zhao Dong directly instead of Ewing, he would've posterized Rodman. No one was stopping that dunk," Zhang Heli chuckled.
On NBC, Matt Goukas turned to Marv Albert. "Marv, how do you see this playing out?"
Marv Albert nodded. "This is straight out of the Pistons' playbook. The Bad Boys ran this same defensive strategy on Jordan, and it worked—knocked the Bulls out of the playoffs three straight years. Extreme tactics, but they were effective."
"But," he continued, "once Jordan hit his prime, this scheme couldn't stop him anymore. That just shows it ain't foolproof.
Last game, the Bulls slowed down Zhao Dong with this defense because, unlike Jordan, he ain't unstoppable yet. But tonight? The Bulls still gotta find a way to cut off his passing game.
Zhao Dong's running the offense for the Knicks. If you can take away his playmaking, the Knicks are done. That's the key."
Matt Goukas nodded. "Exactly. Zhao Dong was passing out of double-teams last game, but the Knicks just weren't hitting their shots. So the strategy looked like it was working, when really, it wasn't stopping his playmaking—his teammates were just bricking.
That's the flaw here. You can slow down Zhao Dong's scoring, but you can't freeze his passing game."
He leaned back. "And here's the other issue—the Bulls aren't the Pistons. They don't have that dirty, physical defense. They can't enforce the Jordan Rules like the Dirty Players did.
Chuck Daly told his guys back in the day: 'If you don't see Jordan bleeding, you ain't playing hard enough.' The Bulls? They can't go there.
And honestly, even if they did? This Knicks squad would straight-up throw hands. And let's be real—even the Bad Boys wouldn't wanna scrap with this Knicks team, haha!"
Matt Goukas laughed, and Marv Albert joined in. "Yeah, and if the Knicks weren't ice-cold in the last game, that score wouldn't have been so lopsided. I don't think it reflected the actual gap between these teams."
Matt Goukas continued. "Also, Zhao Dong ain't Jordan. He's a different kind of monster. His court vision and passing game are on another level.
Last game, the Bulls ran a watered-down version of the Jordan Rules, and it didn't work. Just now? Same thing—Zhao Dong broke the trap and set up an easy dunk.
If the Bulls can't shut down his passing, they're playing themselves. The moment the Knicks' shooters heat up, Zhao Dong's dimes are gonna torch them."
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