After Yu Fei left the court, Jordan, returning to the small forward position, regained a bit of his vitality.
Since he no longer needed to bring the ball up the court and had no organizing responsibilities, Jordan could focus solely on scoring. Indeed, during this stage, he became the main offensive player for the Wizards.
However, his physical condition today was not optimistic.
Although he made a few good plays, he soon found himself struggling.
Duncan was in a great state and soon caused Christian Laettner to commit his third foul, forcing Collins to make a substitution.
Nevertheless, no matter who was switched in, the result was the same.
Duncan merely needed to post up low, back down, turn around for a jump shot or a face-up hook shot; these simple two moves were unstoppable.
"I don't know how long I need to play before I can dominate a game effortlessly like him," Kwame Brown watched with eager eyes.
Yu Fei replied indifferently, "Why sell yourself short? He was the first pick in 1997, and you were the first pick in 2001; your starting points are the same."
Then, Brown kept staring at Yu Fei until Yu Fei couldn't stand it anymore.
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing, I just feel that you're more like a first pick than I am."
"That's because I've surpassed you later on," Yu Fei said bluntly. "The boss says there's a reason you're called lazy."
On the court, the starters had almost rotated out, but the only one who remained was Jordan.
Tim Grover was extremely anxious and said to Collins during the Wizards' last offensive play of the first quarter, "Michael needs to rest for at least 7 minutes in the second quarter!"
Collins asked a question that infuriated Grover, "Is he willing to rest for that long?"
"Damn it!" Grover exclaimed, "You're the fucking head coach. Show some backbone!"
Meanwhile, Jordan was controlling the pace on the court, preparing to launch a buzzer-beater against Bowen.
As the most lethal clutch player in history, Jordan's legendary story was written through a series of marquee game-winning shots. That's the charm of sports; no matter how tense a game is, a few seconds can turn everything around.
This was the moment when Jordan felt most confident and composed.
But to Yu Fei, it signified his slip from the ruling class and announced the end of his own dominion.
Dragging his weary and painful legs, Jordan forced himself to exert power, attempting to hit a buzzer-beating jumper over Bowen. This tale started with his 1982 NCAA championship-winning basket for North Carolina and lasted until the sixth game of the 1998 NBA Finals, where he snatched the ball from Karl Malone, brought it upcourt by himself, and as the breathless Delta Center in Utah watched desperately, he controlled the pace, dribbled, faked, pushed off, knocking Byron Russell to the ground. In that split second as he took to the air, a camera captured that precious moment and the reaction of the crowd.
Those faces of horror fully illustrated how Jordan was the guillotine of basketball in clutch moments; he would leap high, hang above those unfortunate victims, stick out his tongue, filling the air with a terrifying sense of inevitability, and then as the basketball left his fingertips, it hinted at the falling axe, severing the heads of the opponents.
Today he leapt again, but this was not the Jordan of 1998 or 1982; this was the Jordan of 2001, an old man who couldn't jump high, whose injuries prevented him from finding the optimal shooting touch, and surprisingly got blocked by the defensively-committed Bowen who seized the timing of the jump shot and rose to block it.
The Alamodome erupted with a terrifying roar as the first quarter came to an end.
Jordan could no longer sustain the effort; he hobbled off the court, and the team doctor immediately approached. Grover gestured to take him to the medical room amidst the chaos.
"I indeed have no expectations of you acting human, just stand outside the three-point line like a watchdog when it's time," Yu Fei said while holding the ball and sneered, "I'm the one calling the shots now!"
Laettner, filled with indignation, couldn't grasp how things had come to this point, where even Jordan couldn't control Yu Fei. And somehow, Yu Fei had become the second man under Jordan, with even Hamilton having to settle for third.
A mere eighth pick, what gave him the right?
A storm was brewing inside Laettner's head, and then Yu Fei yelled at him like a ferocious wolf, "Do you need me to teach you step by step how to stand outside the three-point line?"
Laettner was completely defeated in spirit, saying he didn't want to cooperate with Yu Fei, but once in the frontcourt, after being scolded, he obediently ran to the weak side.
Yu Fei first called for a pick-and-roll with Hamilton, targeting the Spurs' backup shooting guard, Antonio Daniels, for a mismatch.
Daniels was a 193 cm combo guard, and with his size, he stood no chance against Yu Fei.
The Spurs knew the score well; Robinson came forward to help defend, allowing Yu Fei to pass the ball to Jones, who drew the defense just enough for Laettner to get an open shot, passing the ball from inside out.
Laettner, somehow getting the chance for an open three, took the shot decisively and made it.
27 to 20
The Wizards closed the gap to single digits.
Duncan was resting off court, and the Spurs' core inside was David Robinson, the veteran who had almost left San Antonio during the offseason because of his early-season slump, resulting in drastically reduced playing time.
To be fair, Robinson's discontent was understandable. Last year, Duncan's free agency made quite the fuss, almost leading to his departure from San Antonio. To keep Duncan, his championship-winning teammate, Robinson made a personal effort to persuade him to stay. The man stayed, but also firmly took the position of the highest-paid player on the team. This summer, with Robinson's contract expiring, he wanted a top-paying contract similar to the previous one to retire on; however, the Spurs requested that he take a $7 million pay cut.
No matter how well they got along last year, the Spurs had to face reality; giving Robinson $14 million would be a futile attempt at preserving a good reputation and would not only lock up cap space but also risk hitting the luxury tax threshold, something they could not accept.
Although Robinson thought about ending his career with the Spurs, if it meant losing $8 million, any sensible person would consider other options. But there were none.
No team was willing to pay a 36-year-old center a $14 million annual salary; this was the reason the Spurs were confident.
Robinson, known for his selflessness and indifference toward money, was ultimately harmed by his own reputation, reluctantly signing a 2-year, $20 million contract with the Spurs.
Now, Robinson's lack of desire in the game was unreservedly displayed on the court, although he was in the post, he would not play; he preferred passing the ball out, seemingly aimlessly, simply playing around.
Seeing this pleased Yu Fei the most.
With Robinson not opening up inside, the Spurs' perimeter had to rely on individual ability to solve problems.
Is this the courteous and easygoing Admiral? Good for you, cool your jets; in about fifteen years, a guy named Leonard will teach them how to be a mature management team that understands players.
The Spurs' offense ended with a clang.
But not all clunks are the same; this round's miss offered the Wizards a fast-break opportunity.
Yu Fei grabbed the defensive rebound and immediately whipped up a whirlwind from the backcourt. Spurs' reserve forward Malik Rose tried to stop Yu Fei, but his attempt cost him dearly. Yu Fei suddenly came to a halt and changed direction mid-drive, leaving Rose stumbling in front of him, ignoring the jeers from the crowd as he powered to the basket and hammered down a ferocious tomahawk dunk.
Popovich, with a dark expression, wanted to curse but didn't know whom to blame.
Yu Fei pointed at Rose and laughed at Popovich, "Hey, send someone normal to guard me, this won't do. He's paying me too much respect on first encounter; I'd feel embarrassed."