"Swish!"
The net snapped as a three-pointer splashed through.
"Beautiful! Zhao Dong drew the Jazz's constant double-teams in the low post, opening up clean looks for his teammates. John Starks took full advantage of it. Honestly, the Bulls already showed that the 'Jordan Rules' style defense doesn't work on a guy like Zhao Dong, who's got elite playmaking and vision," Marv Albert explained.
"The Knicks' game plan against the Bulls was totally different from how they're playing the Jazz. We expected them to push the pace, but they didn't. Instead, they're running a slow, half-court offense, bullying the Jazz in the low post with ridiculous efficiency," Matt Goukas laughed.
"Yeah, speeding up the tempo would burn through Zhao Dong's stamina. He's taking so many shots and still defending Karl Malone—he can't afford to waste energy. They're smart to keep the pace methodical," Marv added with a chuckle.
At 9-21, the Knicks were up by 12, forcing the Jazz to burn another timeout.
Even the media was caught off guard by how the series opener was unfolding—no one expected the Knicks to dominate like this.
Seeing the Jazz call another timeout, Zhang Heli grinned, "That's twice now! The Jazz are running out of options.
If Zhao Dong still had his old low-post game, they could guard him one-on-one, limiting him to maybe 20 or 30 points. But now? Even double-teams can't stop him. The guy already has 16 points before the first quarter is even over!
How do you stop a guy who can torch you in the post and drop dimes like a point guard? You can't. The Jazz are just burning timeouts to try and cool him off, but it won't work."
"Haha…" Sun Zhenping burst out laughing.
After the break, the Jazz kept doubling Zhao Dong in the post, sticking to their desperate defensive scheme.
Jerry Sloan's mindset was simple: if Zhao Dong was gonna shred them in the post, it was better to let the Knicks' supporting cast shoot from the perimeter than let him keep eating.
Surprisingly, the plan worked—for a while.
With constant double-teams, Zhao Dong was forced to pass out repeatedly. Unfortunately, the Knicks bricked several open looks, preventing the lead from growing.
By the end of the first quarter, the Knicks led by 11 points at 28-17.
Zhao Dong played the entire quarter, shooting 10-for-12, hitting 4-of-5 free throws, and stacking up 24 points, 5 rebounds, 2 assists, 1 steal, 2 blocks, 1 turnover, and 1 foul.
While he didn't break Isiah Thomas's Finals single-quarter scoring record, his 24-point explosion tied Jordan's mark and placed him fifth in NBA history for most points in a playoff quarter.
Seated on the bench, Zhao Dong reflected on his first-quarter dominance.
He realized that with his improved rebounding and bank shot skills, his low-post offense was just as lethal as peak Tim Duncan's.
And thanks to the Gold Medal skill bonuses, his shooting efficiency was even crazier.
Of course, this was the first time he fully unleashed his rebounding prowess, catching the Jazz completely off guard. Their defense was a mess.
When he checked back in at the 4-minute mark of the second quarter, the Jazz had clawed back 5 points.
During his brief stint on the bench, Karl Malone took advantage, making 2-of-4 shots and scoring 4 points.
As soon as Zhao Dong hit the floor, he switched gears—focusing on playmaking rather than scoring.
He shifted to the high post, pulling the Jazz defense away from the basket. Jeff Van Gundy quickly implemented a series of backdoor cuts and off-ball screens.
With Zhao Dong commanding attention at the high post, Knicks guards and forwards cut into the lane repeatedly.
By the end of the second quarter, Zhao Dong racked up 5 assists, giving him 7 total for the half.
On the other end, the Jazz stuck to their relentless pick-and-roll attack.
If one screen didn't work, they'd run two. If two failed, they'd hit a third—cycling through their signature "unlimited pick-and-roll" sets.
Stockton was masterful in the second quarter, dishing out 6 assists, bringing his first-half total to 9 dimes, proving once again why he was the NBA's all-time assist king.
At halftime, the Knicks still led by 7 points, 47-40.
Zhao Dong's first-half stat line:
21 minutes
12-for-16 FG
5-for-6 FT
29 points, 9 rebounds, 7 assists, 2 steals, 4 blocks, 2 turnovers, 2 fouls
Meanwhile, Karl Malone played the full 24 minutes, but was suffocated by Zhao Dong's defense. The Mailman shot 4-for-15, hit 1-of-2 free throws, and finished with just 9 points, 2 rebounds, 1 assist, 1 block, 2 turnovers, and 2 fouls.
The battle between the two was physical. With Zhao Dong in his face the entire time, Malone had little room to operate. His regular-season efficiency was nowhere to be seen.
On the NBC broadcast, Marv Albert analyzed the first half:
"Looking at the first-half stats, the Jazz dominated from beyond the arc, shooting 5-for-10 from three—a scorching 50%.
They're getting so many open looks because the Knicks' pick-and-roll defense is weak, allowing Utah to generate mismatches and uncontested threes.
But the real difference-maker is Zhao Dong. He completely locked up Karl Malone in the post and ran the Knicks' offense like a point guard in the second quarter. That's why New York is still in control."
Matt Goukas added, "Three highlights stood out tonight.
First, Zhao Dong's rebounding was next-level. His low-post fundamentals were elite. Most guys rebound with basic positioning, but Zhao Dong combines crafty movement with his insane athleticism, making it look flashy as hell."
"Yeah," Marv agreed, "the way he rebounds so freely—hitting the board from all angles—makes it more entertaining than the traditional post players."
Matt continued, "Second, his playmaking. 7 assists in the first half—just two fewer than Stockton. His passing reads and court vision are on par with top-tier point guards."
"Exactly. We saw that same court vision against the Bulls," Marv chimed in.
"And third, Zhao Dong completely shut down Malone on defense. His lateral quickness is a cheat code against Malone. Even with Utah spamming pick-and-rolls, they still couldn't get Malone free.
And let's be real—Zhao Dong's physicality is messing with Malone's head. The Mailman isn't used to guys who can take his elbows and throw it right back at him. It's throwing him off his game."
Marv nodded, "Yeah, the Jazz's pick-and-roll scheme isn't helping Malone tonight. He's getting stonewalled inside.
And weirdly, Malone isn't even leaning into his physical style—he's barely using his elbows."
Matt chuckled, "That's because Zhao Dong is too damn tough. Karl Malone knows if he throws an elbow, Zhao Dong is gonna come right back twice as hard. Since Malone can't shake him, he's backing off a bit."
Marv added with a grin, "Yeah, Malone knows if he throws one, he's getting two right back—plus a body blow that might put him on the floor."
The third quarter kicked off with both teams' starters back on the floor.
The Jazz finally got Karl Malone a mismatch off a series of pick-and-rolls, allowing him to drain a mid-range jumper over Charlie Ward.
Knicks' possession.
Zhao Dong moved to the high post and signaled for a play. Instantly, the rest of the Knicks spaced out, clearing the paint.
But the Jazz tightened up their defense. Anytime the Knicks made a move inside, they swarmed with quick doubles, leaving small gaps for shooters.
Zhao Dong and Charlie Ward ran a pick-and-roll. Ward drove into the paint with the ball, forcing the Jazz to switch.
Malone chased down Ward, while John Stockton switched onto Zhao Dong.
Zhao Dong easily muscled Stockton aside and cut toward the rim.
Ward, seeing Malone closing in, pulled a quick direction change to the left and dished the ball back to Zhao Dong with a slick pass.
Malone spun around just as Zhao Dong caught the pass, but it was too late.
"Bang!"
Zhao Dong detonated at the rim with a vicious slam.
"Bang!"
The sheer force of the dunk sent Malone crashing under the basket, hitting the hardwood.
"Yeah!"
Madison Square Garden exploded. The crowd was on its feet, roaring as Malone—the infamous Mailman—got laid out by his own team's defensive leader. The place was electric.
"The power! Zhao Dong just baptized Karl Malone at the rim! He's flying through the Jazz's airspace with no clearance!" Marv Albert shouted over the crowd's frenzy.
Zhao Dong stood over Malone and taunted him with a cold grin.
"I can see the words 'beatdown' written all over your face. Well, today I'm delivering."
"Bastard!"
Malone, furious, pounded the floor with his fist.
On the sidelines, Charles Barkley smirked,
"Damn, does anyone in the league have more force than him?"
Shaquille O'Neal puffed out his chest. "Me."
Barkley raised a skeptical brow. "You?"
Glaring, Shaq barked, "You got a problem with that?!"
Barkley shot him a look of pure disdain.
The smugness ticked Shaq off, his eyes narrowing. "What? You think I'm wrong?"
Barkley, deadpan, replied, "When's the last time you played like that?"
Fuming, Shaq shot back, "I don't need to play like that. I'm unstoppable under the basket."
Magic Johnson chuckled, cutting in, "Shaq's right. With his size and strength, he doesn't need to fly around like Zhao Dong. He just bulldozes everyone under the rim. In terms of low-post dominance, Shaq has the edge. Zhao Dong is just filling in at center temporarily."
Barkley smirked. "Yeah, but I'm talking about pure impact."
Magic laughed helplessly.
Annoyed, Shaq growled, "Man, I'd plant Zhao Dong on the floor if he tried that on me."
Barkley grinned. "I'd pay good money to see you try. With his rebounding and mobility, you'd have your hands full."
Shaq, refusing to back down, said firmly, "Nah, wherever Shaq Diesel stands, it's a damn wall. Nobody gets around me. If anyone's dumb enough to try, I'm sending their shot into the third row."
Magic finally waved them off with a laugh.
"Alright, alright. You two can settle this next season. But let me tell you right now—if the Lakers want a ring, they're gonna have to get through Zhao Dong and the Knicks first. And right now, they're looking like a damn brick wall themselves."
Hearing that, Shaq clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing. No matter how much he hyped himself up, he couldn't ignore how dominant Zhao Dong was.
Back on the court, the game hit a boiling point.
The Jazz, down from the jump, realized they were up against the same Knicks team that had just taken down Jordan and the Bulls. If they didn't bring their A-game, they were about to get swept.
In desperation, they cranked up their physicality—playing borderline dirty.
Charlie Ward got hammered repeatedly by Stockton, who threw sneaky elbows and sneaky kicks, making the game chippy.
As the third quarter heated up, Zhao Dong took over the scoring load, while Charlie Ward handled the playmaking.
But the Jazz started winning the perimeter battle.
Stockton clamped down on Ward, choking off the Knicks' ball movement. Their offense got sloppy.
Midway through the third, the Jazz cut the deficit to 58-54, trailing by just 4 points, forcing Jeff Van Gundy to call a timeout.
On the NBC broadcast, Marv Albert broke down the situation.
"The Jazz are leaning heavily on their perimeter offense, running endless pick-and-rolls to create mismatches and open shots. It's working—they're closing the gap."
Matt Goukas added, "Yeah, but Karl Malone still isn't himself. Zhao Dong is locking him up, keeping him out of rhythm. Malone's too slow to beat him off the dribble and can't overpower him in the post."
Marv nodded.
"Exactly. But Zhao Dong needs to be careful. Malone's starting to throw more elbows. If the refs let it slide, it could get ugly."
Zhao Dong wasn't backing down. If Karl Malone threw an elbow, he was damn sure returning the favor.
After a few exchanges, Malone was clearly on the losing end—his dirty tactics barely making an impact.
For now, the elbow fight stayed legal—limited to non-vital areas. But if either of them started aiming for the head, it could get ugly.
On the bench, Zhao Dong sat down, gulping some water to recharge.
"Zhao, Karl Malone nailed you with an elbow. You good?" Jeff Van Gundy asked with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I can handle it."
He casually lifted his jersey, revealing three faint red marks on his chest, already fading.
Turning to Charlie Ward, he asked, "Yo, you good, man?"
"That asshole stomped on my foot, but it's no big deal," Ward grumbled, rubbing his right ankle.
Charles Oakley, ever the enforcer, warned, "He's the dirtiest dude out there. Watch your back, Charlie."
"Got it," Ward nodded, his jaw clenched.
On the Jazz bench, Malone peeled off his jersey, exposing four distinct red welts.
"Shit!" he cursed, furious.
Despite landing three elbows, Zhao Dong had retaliated with four—leaving him worse off.
The timeout ended, and the game resumed with the Knicks on the attack.
"Oh, wait a minute! Zhao Dong is bringing the ball up the court?" Marv Albert exclaimed in surprise.
"The Jazz are in a bind here. Who's gonna guard him? The bigs are too slow, and the guards can't match his size," Matt Goukas chuckled.
"Great strategy by Van Gundy. Let's see how Stockton handles it. But Zhao Dong better watch out for Stockton's sneaky moves," Zhang Heli added.
Zhao Dong dribbled up the court, forcing the Jazz into confusion.
Malone stayed on him initially, but he was too slow.
With a quick burst, Zhao Dong blew past Malone, tearing into the frontcourt at full speed and leaving the Jazz scrambling.
Stockton and Bryon Russell quickly closed in, trapping him with a double-team.
But Charlie Ward and Oakley cut hard to the rim at the same time.
The Jazz's defense was out of position.
Greg Ostertag wasn't even in the paint yet, and Malone was trailing behind.
Zhao Dong snapped a sharp pass to Ward, who caught it in stride and finished with an easy layup.
"Beautiful! Zhao Dong just turned into a magician out there. This guy can run the offense from anywhere!" Marv Albert shouted, his voice full of excitement.
"Wait, does Zhao Dong have elite ball-handling skills too?" Magic Johnson muttered from the sidelines, shaking his head in disbelief.
Turning to Shaquille O'Neal, he grinned.
"If the Lakers run into the Knicks next season, you're gonna have your hands full. You've got no one who can guard Zhao Dong."
"What the hell are we supposed to do then?" Shaq grumbled.
Magic's gaze turned distant, almost nostalgic.
"You know, back in my day, we always had rivals. Wilt Chamberlain had Bill Russell, Bird had me. We pushed each other our whole careers.
"But then Jordan came along, and he was different. He dominated the entire league alone—no true rival could match him. That's why his name will stand above all of us.
"But now… Jordan's fading. He's in the twilight of his prime. And here comes Zhao Dong, the next challenger.
"It's the end of an era, and the start of another. To become the new king, you gotta dethrone the old one. And Zhao Dong is looking like the guy who'll do it."
Back on the court, the Jazz attacked.
On defense, Zhao Dong stayed matched up with Malone, while Charlie Ward took on Stockton.
Stockton brought the ball up, suddenly shifting gears for a quick drive.
As usual, he threw in his dirty tricks—a sneaky elbow to the ribs mid-crossover—just as he surged past.
But Charlie Ward, fed up with the cheap shots, snapped.
Without hesitation, he grabbed Stockton by the throat and slammed him to the ground.
"You bastard!"
Seeing his long-time partner go down, Malone's eyes went bloodshot.
He had always vowed that if anyone messed with Stockton, they were messing with him first.
Without a second thought, he charged at Ward, fists clenched.
For a brief second, Ward froze.
He saw the Mailman coming straight at him like a freight train.
"BANG!"
Just before Malone could land a punch, Zhao Dong blindsided him with a monstrous shoulder check, sending him sprawling.
"Oh! Ward gets physical with Stockton, and here comes Karl Malone, but BAM! Zhao Dong knocks him on his ass!" Marv Albert roared.
The crowd went wild.
MSG was on its feet, chanting as if a heavyweight fight had broken out.
Malone, humiliated, scrambled to his feet—his eyes bloodshot with rage.
His frustration from being manhandled by Zhao Dong all season was boiling over.
Just as he was about to lunge, Stockton, still shaken, scrambled over and wrapped his arms around Malone's waist.
"Don't do it, Karl!" he yelled. "We're after the championship, remember? THE CHAMPIONSHIP!"
Malone, chest heaving with fury, clenched his fists—then slowly unclenched them.
He took a shaky breath and backed down.
But Zhao Dong wasn't done.
He stalked toward Malone, eyes cold and locked in a death stare.
The Mailman, still panting heavily, glared right back.
The two men stood nose to nose, neither backing down—two bulls ready to charge.
Stockton, standing between them, tried to play peacemaker.
"Zhao! What the hell are you doing? Don't be stupid!"
Zhao Dong's eyes narrowed, glaring at Stockton.
"You? Acting like the good guy? You're the dirtiest one on the court," he spat.
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