Chapter 160
Marv Albert hyped up the NBC broadcast: "Zhao Dong went 11-for-21 from the field, hitting 52%. He knocked down 12 of 14 free throws, finishing with 34 points, 12 rebounds, 5 assists, 5 steals, and 5 blocks, but also had 3 turnovers and 5 fouls."
Matt Goukas followed up, "On the other hand, Jordan struggled—5-for-17, just 29.4% shooting, missed all five of his threes, but hit 16-for-16 at the line. He finished with 26 points, 8 rebounds, 3 assists, 3 steals, and 1 block, plus 2 turnovers and 2 fouls."
Marv continued, "And let's talk about those final three minutes. Zhao Dong delivered—2-for-2 from the field, 4 points, 1 assist, 2 steals, and 1 block. Meanwhile, Jordan? Just two free throws. That's the difference—the Knicks closed, the Bulls didn't."
Matt nodded. "Yeah, straight up, Zhao Dong was more efficient. And sure, Jordan faced heavy double-teams, but that ain't the whole story. Zhao Dong's footwork, speed, and shot selection? Elite. His ability to shake off defenders? Probably better than Jordan's right now. That's why he's got the better shooting percentage tonight."
Marv Albert smirked. "The Bulls are now down 0-2. They gotta win both home games, or it's looking grim. Honestly? I think the Knicks are headed to the Finals."
Matt laughed. "Man, remember at the start of the season? When Zhao Dong swore he'd snipe Jordan and stop his dynasty? He's living up to it."
Marv chuckled. "And then there's that bet… if the Bulls get bounced in this series, Jordan has to apologize to Zhao Dong. That would be insane."
Matt smirked. "So Jordan really agreed to that? That means Zhao Dong leaving the Bulls was because of him, right?"
Marv let out a laugh. "Oh, that's obvious."
Matt shook his head. "Wonder if he regrets it now? If the Bulls had just paid Zhao Dong, they'd probably be up 2-0 instead of trailing. That back-to-back title? Basically a lock."
Marv shrugged. "Man, who knows?"
---
Locker Room – Knicks
Zhao Dong wrapped up a quick courtside interview, then sent Lindsay and Mrs. Dolores home before heading to the locker room.
The media wasn't allowed in yet, so Van Gundy was breaking things down.
"Overall, we played about even with the Bulls. Nobody shot well. Honestly? If Zhao Dong wasn't so efficient, we probably lose this game."
Zhao Dong nodded, then asked, "Coach, are we adjusting anything for the road games?"
Van Gundy started to shake his head but stopped.
They'd been running everything through Zhao Dong, and it worked—Eastern Conference Finals, 2-0 lead. No reason to fix what isn't broken.
"Got something on your mind?" he asked.
Zhao Dong leaned forward. "Yeah, I feel like we're not using Patrick enough. His low-post game should be killing them. He draws so much attention, but we aren't fully capitalizing on it."
Van Gundy frowned. Zhao Dong was basically questioning his strategy—and the truth stung. They'd won, but both games were way too close. If Jordan had played just a little better, the Knicks could be down 0-2 right now.
The room went quiet. Players hit the showers. Some got ready for locker-room interviews.
---
Bulls Press Conference
Tension filled the room.
The Bulls had just dropped two straight, and Chicago's media wasn't holding back.
Reporters went at Phil Jackson, and he looked pissed.
"We'll do whatever it takes to win at home," Jackson said, trying to keep his cool. "We'll make adjustments and tighten up on defense. Look, the Knicks have Zhao Dong and Ewing, they're a stacked squad..."
Then the media turned on Jordan.
"Michael, if you lose the series, are you really going to apologize to Zhao Dong?"
Jordan's expression went cold.
He let the silence hang for a few seconds before finally muttering, "We're winning this series."
And then? He just walked out.
---
Knicks Press Conference
Zhao Dong and Ewing handled their media duties and stuck around after.
"Man, you really feel like we need more plays together?" Ewing asked.
Zhao Dong nodded. "Yeah. Right now, we're not maximizing you in the post. When I get doubled, we should be getting you better looks. And when you post up, we gotta work more off-ball action."
Ewing listened, then nodded.
"In the first two rounds, I was getting more open shots when you kicked it out. But now? Bulls rotate faster. I'm getting double-teamed too fast—no clean looks."
Zhao Dong leaned back. "Yeah, and when I drive, I barely get any screens. I was forcing my way in all night and just getting hacked. Sure, we got to the line, but the game got choppy as hell. We couldn't build momentum."
Ewing agreed. "We gotta talk to Van Gundy."
---
Back in the Locker Room
Most players had cleared out. Only staff, security, and Van Gundy remained.
Zhao Dong and Ewing walked up.
"Coach, can we talk?" Zhao Dong asked.
Van Gundy looked at him, then nodded. "Yeah."
Even though Zhao Dong had called him out earlier, Van Gundy didn't hold a grudge. This was his first season as head coach, and they were winning—no way he'd ignore Zhao Dong's input.
Because the truth was?
Zhao Dong was right.
The three of them closed the door and talked for half an hour before heading out.
The next day, the New York media went wild, hyping up the Knicks' winning streak and the first 5x5 stat line in playoff history.
"The greatest team in history is on the verge of elimination—maybe even a sweep. Michael Jordan, do you still believe you can make the Finals for the fifth time?"
"The most dominant 5x5 ever—Zhao Dong makes history in the NBA Playoffs!"
The New York Times ran both headlines front and center. Being a world-class publication, the report on Zhao Dong spread his name across the globe.
"Will Michael Jordan apologize to Zhao Dong if the Knicks eliminate the Bulls?" the Times asked.
New York TV also dropped their latest championship odds—Knicks at a staggering 90% to win it all, while the Bulls sat at just 10%.
At noon, reporters swarmed the Bulls at the airport as they returned to Chicago. A reporter from New York TV went live, catching Jordan on his way to board.
"Michael, any thoughts on New York TV's latest championship odds?" the reporter asked.
Jordan scoffed. "They should be bolder. Why not just say the Knicks have a 100% chance?"
"If the Bulls lose to the Knicks, will you apologize to Zhao Dong?" another reporter pressed.
Jordan's expression turned ice cold. "We're not losing. And I'm not losing to him."
"So that's a no?"
"Sorry, plane's about to take off," Jordan said, cutting the interview short as he jogged onto the plane.
Down below, reporters kept talking.
"If the Bulls lose, I doubt he'll apologize. Jordan never apologizes for anything."
"Then what's the point of making the bet? If he doesn't own up to it, his reputation takes a hit. Honestly, I think he'll give in and do it."
Meanwhile, Zhao Dong was still at the hotel, fresh out of bed, making a phone call.
"Wells, did you get the tickets?" he asked his agent, looking for front-row seats to the Bulls game for Lindsay.
"All set. Got the room booked, too. Same hotel you're staying in."
"Good looks. Appreciate it!"
After hanging up, Zhao Dong called Lindsay.
"Yo, you wanna fly with us on the team jet?"
"Nah, I'll get there on my own," Lindsay replied.
"Alright, see you there."
Zhao Dong didn't push it. Lindsay was just a friend, not family, and team rules didn't allow non-family members on the plane.
An hour later, the Knicks boarded their charter flight to Chicago. Along for the ride were 3,000 die-hard Knicks fans and the players' wives.
By 4 PM, they landed in Chicago and checked into their hotel.
That night, the team gathered for a strategy meeting.
Van Gundy stood at the front, drawing up plays on a big board. "When Zhao Dong draws a double team outside, the closest player needs to set an immediate screen. First screen—Ewing, you gotta create an open look for yourself. Second screen—Zhao, you need a lane to attack the paint...
"Meanwhile, on the weak side, the other two guys gotta move, get open, and find backdoor cuts."
Zhao Dong sat there listening. After a while, he realized Van Gundy wasn't running anything fancy—just a whole lotta pick-and-rolls.
"Breakdowns and pick-and-rolls… Welp, let's hope it works."
That same day, major media outlets dropped their predictions for Game 3 of the Eastern Conference Finals.
Los Angeles Sports Daily: "In Games 1 and 2, the Knicks only won by slim margins. Game 1 came down to Zhao Dong's buzzer-beater. Now, with the Bulls back on their home floor, their energy will be through the roof. Meanwhile, the Knicks will have to deal with the toughest away crowd in the league. Expect the Bulls to take Game 3."
Washington Post: "Chicago has no choice but to win. If they fall behind 0-3, their title hopes are done. Jordan won't stay cold forever, and with the United Center rocking, his rhythm will return.
"In Game 2, the Bulls' defense actually worked. You can tell by the low score. They just couldn't hit shots themselves, which cost them. If they fix that in Game 3, they should take this one.
"As for the Knicks, they're walking into the most hostile arena in the league. Don't be surprised if their performance drops."
Most of the media favored Chicago, banking on the home-court advantage. Only New York outlets kept pushing the Knicks' dominance.
Meanwhile, reporters kept stirring the pot between Jordan and Zhao Dong, hyping up their beef and the bet with the so-called GOAT.
The tension around the Eastern Conference Finals was so intense that the Western Conference Finals barely got any attention.
"We deserve the spotlight too! Our series against the Mavericks has been just as exciting," Karl Malone vented to the media.
Charles Barkley chimed in. "Man, they hoggin' all the coverage. We're gettin' no love. The league needs to step in and fix this."
But nobody cared. Compared to the Knicks-Bulls series, the Jazz-Mavs series wasn't even close. Ticket revenue alone from the East Finals was five times higher.
"Ain't nobody watchin' y'all, Karl," one reporter laughed.
That night, the Jazz, riding a hot streak, got humbled, 100-118, as the Rockets clawed one back.
Mosaic's backup swingman, Eddie Johnson, went off, dropping 31 points—leading all scorers that night.
On the 24th, Game 3 of the Eastern Conference Finals tipped off.
Zhao Dong pulled up to the arena with Lindsay, then headed straight to the locker room. As soon as he stepped in, he remembered something—Jordan still hadn't handed over the check from their last bet. Without wasting time, he turned to head coach Jeff Van Gundy.
"Coach, I gotta swing by the Bulls' locker room real quick. MJ still owes me that check. Gotta make sure he pays up."
Van Gundy sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can't this wait till after the game?"
"Nah, gotta settle the last one before we start a new one. I don't trust that man—he talks a big game, but I know he ain't above ducking a bet." Zhao Dong grinned.
Van Gundy shook his head. "Just don't start anything."
"Come on, Coach. You think I'm dumb enough to take on the whole Bulls squad by myself?" Zhao Dong chuckled, then headed out.
The moment he stepped into the hallway, reporters swarmed him.
"Zhao Dong! Where you headed?"
"Gotta pay Mr. Jordan a visit," Zhao Dong said with a smirk.
Of course, he wasn't about to air out their bet in public, so he kept it vague.
A few reporters, sensing drama, decided to tag along as he made his way to the Bulls' locker room. Security and team staff were stationed outside, along with more media.
Bulls GM Jerry Krause spotted him first and looked surprised. "Zhao Dong, what are you doing here?"
Zhao Dong had a bit of a rep—being one of the "New Four Dirty Player" of the league and all. Naturally, Krause and security weren't thrilled to see him. Two guards immediately moved to block the door.
"Relax, sir. I just came to check in on Mr. Jordan," Zhao Dong said smoothly. "He showed up in our locker room back in New York, and we treated him well. Thought I'd return the favor."
Krause squinted. "That's really all?"
"Yeah, man. You see me rolling deep?" Zhao Dong grinned, gesturing at himself.
Krause hesitated, then gave the security a nod. "Alright."
He personally pushed the door open and called inside, "Michael, Zhao Dong's here to see you."
"What? Him? Showing up just to say hi?" Jordan stood up, looking skeptical.
Zhao Dong flashed Krause a thumbs-up and strolled in.
"Yo, Mr. Jordan! Long time no see," Zhao Dong called out.
MJ narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here? You know damn well this ain't your locker room. Get out."
Zhao Dong casually shut the door behind him, then held out his hand. "Where's my check? Thought you were a man of your word. You should've paid up before you left New York yesterday."
"Shit." Jordan cursed under his breath. "A damn rookie coming to collect a debt? Where's his shame?"
The rest of the Bulls looked at each other, caught off guard.
"Hey, a bet's a bet. I want my full $1.6 million—every last cent," Zhao Dong said, still smiling.
Jordan exhaled sharply, turned around, grabbed his checkbook from his locker, and scribbled out the amount.
Zhao Dong pocketed it. "So, we running it back?"
"Of course," Jordan said without hesitation.
He'd already lost twice, nearly $3 million down, but now they were on home court. No way he backed out now.
"Bet." Zhao Dong nodded and walked out.
Phil Jackson, watching the whole thing unfold, sighed. "Michael, you're betting too much. Don't let it mess with your game."
"Relax, Coach," Jordan muttered, tucking away his checkbook. "Nothing messes with my game."
Jackson shook his head, then clapped his hands. "Alright, time to lock in—20-minute meditation."
Starting Lineups:
Chicago Bulls: Luc Longley, Dennis Rodman, Scottie Pippen, Michael Jordan, Ron Harper
New York Knicks: Patrick Ewing, Charles Oakley, Zhao Dong, Allan Houston, Charlie Ward
Twenty minutes later, the lineups were official. No changes.
"Hey, rookie! Don't fold out there!" Jordan barked at Zhao Dong as they headed toward the tunnel.
Zhao Dong glanced at the court. The noise was deafening—an avalanche of boos pouring down from the stands.
As the arena lights dimmed, a single spotlight hit him. He took a deep breath and stepped into it, instantly met by a thunderous roar of hostility.
"Damn… Chicago's home crowd different. New York fans are tame compared to this," Zhao Dong muttered.
Grinning, he sprinted out of the tunnel, taking in the electrifying atmosphere. As he reached the basket, his teammates joined him, standing in the center of the light, waiting for the Bulls to make their entrance.
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