NBA: The Dynasty Crusher (Basketball)

Around 5:00 PM, the New York Knicks arrived at their hotel in San Antonio, settling in ahead of Game 3.

Shortly after checking in, the Knicks held a press conference at the request of the media.

A local reporter stepped up confidently.

"Zhao Dong, I'm Mike McCarty from the San Antonio Sports Daily. What do you think the chances are that the Knicks take Game 3?"

Zhao Dong didn't even blink.

"One hundred percent," he said calmly.

McCarty burst into laughter.

"What gave you the confidence to say that? Cocky much?"

His comment drew chuckles from other local reporters.

But Zhao Dong's gaze sharpened as he locked eyes with McCarty. The temperature in the room dropped.

"The confidence comes from the strength of the Knicks," Zhao said coldly. "And from me. But your arrogance? That's going to bring trouble for the Spurs."

McCarty sneered.

"Oh really? What kind of trouble are you gonna bring us?"

"Neither David Robinson nor Tim Duncan would say something so ignorant," Zhao Dong said. "And when someone like you says it to me, it's just pathetic."

Zhao pushed his chair back and stood, eyes like steel.

"In Game 3, I'll make sure the Spurs pay for that ignorance."

With that, he turned and walked off the stage, leaving the press buzzing.

McCarty's face twitched, watching Zhao's back fade out of view. He muttered to the reporters around him,

"We've got the Twin Towers. They're superstars. The Knicks can't match their length or presence in the paint. Each one demands a double-team. I'm confident—we're taking Game 3."

Other local reporters nodded in agreement.

"You said it, McCarty. It's time for the Spurs to go all the way this year."

"The Knicks can't touch our Twin Towers."

"O'Neal couldn't handle Robinson and Duncan—no way Zhao Dong can."

The room filled with excited chatter.

"I bet Zhao Dong'll shatter a few backboards at the SBC Center tomorrow," one reporter joked.

"I just hope I'm under the hoop when it happens—I might get a souvenir."

Local reporters laughed, but McCarty's expression tightened. He knew the Spurs' boards might get worked, but still kept his chin up.

"Even if Zhao gets his boards, it won't matter. He can't stop the Twin Towers. The W is ours."

The other San Antonio media echoed the sentiment.

Back in his hotel room, Zhao Dong turned on the TV. NBC was running a light segment—Dita Von Teese had just returned from a UK performance. The champagne bath footage popped into his mind.

He chuckled.

"Ling-ge…"

He immediately grabbed his phone and called his agent, Wells.

---

June 12th — Game 3 Day

The media war was already in full swing.

"After Popovich, San Antonio Sports reporter Mike McCarty has now angered the Tyrant. The Spurs have made an enemy out of Zhao Dong."

— The New York Times

"Please prep a few extra backboards at the SBC Center."

— The New York Sports Journal

"The Spurs messed with the god of efficiency. Trouble's coming."

— The Los Angeles Times

San Antonio media clapped back fast.

Mike McCarty penned a fiery piece for the San Antonio Sports Daily, headlined:

"Tonight, We Slay the Tyrant!"

In it, he wrote:

"We can't let a foreigner dominate this league. It's time to push back. The Spurs will rise up, slay the Golden Tyrant, and end his reign before it becomes a dynasty."

He framed the Spurs as heroic tyrant slayers, and many fans in San Antonio loved it.

Steve Kerr, former Bulls sharpshooter and current Spurs guard, echoed the sentiment in an interview.

"I support McCarty. We can't have a foreigner becoming the face of our league. We've got stars who can step up. It's time to fight back."

Some fringe players around the league echoed the call, but none of the top-tier stars said a word.

Why?

Because Nike and Zhao Dong Sports were backing Zhao Dong—and that meant real power. Even giants like Adidas and Reebok were hesitant to challenge Nike's golden boy. The corporate sponsors stayed silent. So did their athletes.

When a New York Times reporter caught up with Zhao Dong, they posed the obvious question.

"Zhao Dong, the Spurs say they're out to slay the Tyrant. What do you have to say to that?"

Zhao's eyes narrowed.

"They want to slay me?" he said coldly. "Then I'll rip the thorn out of the Spurs."

---

The media hype hit a fever pitch.

"Slay the Tyrant" vs. "Rip the thorn."

The New York media ran wild with it, and the national conversation tilted hard in Zhao Dong's favor. Once again, it became clear—the Spurs might be dangerous on the court, but in terms of media influence? They were still a small-market team.

The Los Angeles Sports Daily stayed out of the drama, instead running an in-depth article analyzing the Knicks' strategy.

The anonymous author (actually Jerry West) proposed a bold plan:

"Start Zhao Dong at point guard. Pair him with Sprewell. Tear apart the Spurs' shaky backcourt. Then let Zhao stretch the floor and attack the Twin Towers from the perimeter."

He continued:

"The Knicks should trade Chauncey Billups. He doesn't fit. Zhao's playmaking is miles ahead, and the team doesn't need redundancy at point. Trade Billups and get depth on the wings or an elite shooter."

The article went viral.

Zhao Dong didn't believe the Bulls would collapse—at least not now. If they were going to fall apart, it would've happened already. Even with Phil Jackson stepping down, they still held firm.

The truth was simple: Jason Kidd, Tracy McGrady, and Rasheed Wallace had enough firepower to keep the Bulls competitive. That trio was a solid foundation to build a new era in Chicago.

With that in mind, Zhao Dong began to seriously consider Chauncey Billups.

If the Lakers could somehow con the Knicks into trading Billups, it would be a win-win—weakening New York while strengthening Los Angeles. Classic two-birds-one-stone scenario.

But Zhao Dong wasn't foolish. He knew Billups wasn't some disposable benchwarmer to the Knicks.

---

At 6:00 PM, the Knicks arrived at the Spurs' home arena—SBC Center. The court, sponsored by the SBC Telecom Group, wouldn't become the AT&T Center until after the 2006 telecom merger. With the naming rights deal, the Spurs raked in $20 million per year.

By 7:00 PM, the arena was packed to the rafters.

On NBC's live broadcast, Bob Costas led the commentary, flanked by Doug Collins and Isaiah Thomas.

Doug chuckled. "Game 3 of the Finals, and the average ticket price here in San Antonio is barely a tenth of what you'd pay at Madison Square Garden. That's small-market economics for you."

Isaiah added with a shake of his head, "This kind of market makes it tough to keep a championship core together. I don't know how the Spurs will afford to re-sign Tim Duncan next year. They're not built to absorb a max contract and eat luxury tax."

Doug raised an eyebrow. "You think Duncan might walk?"

"Absolutely," Isaiah replied. "If Duncan hits free agency, at least half the league will line up with offers."

Bob chimed in, "The Knicks would throw everything they've got at him. They're desperate for a dominant big. Even the Bulls—if they had Duncan right now, this Finals might be playing out very differently."

Doug shifted gears. "What about all this talk tonight—'Spurs slay the Tyrant? You buying into the hype?"

Isaiah chuckled. "Sounds like marketing spin to me. If they've got the firepower, sure. But if not, Zhao Dong and the Knicks are going to tear them apart."

Bob nodded. "This league's always respected strength. Zhao Dong became the league's biggest draw not because of style—but because he dominated everyone, even Michael Jordan. Role players don't move ratings. Superstars do. That's who puts butts in seats."

Doug laughed. "Well, we'll find out soon. Will the Spurs slay the Tyrant… or will Zhao Dong clip the thorns?"

---

Inside the Knicks' locker room, Coach Don Nelson stood before the team, reading out the starting five.

"Zhao Dong. Latrell Sprewell. Danny Fortson. Charles Barkley. Wang Zhizhi."

Chauncey Billups blinked in surprise. He was coming off the bench?

His mind raced. Are they actually considering that L.A. trade? Are they buying into that analysis from the L.A. Sports Daily?

Old Nelson continued, "Zhao Dong starts at point guard tonight."

Chauncey's heart dropped further. That was exactly what the L.A. paper had predicted.

He couldn't shake the unease.

But what Billups didn't realize was that Jerry West's media spin had just coincidentally lined up with Don Nelson's real-time strategy.

---

Charles Barkley, meanwhile, was beaming. Finally, a Finals start. If he won a ring here, no one could ever question its legitimacy.

He was locked in. "I've waited my whole career for this. Ain't no way I'm wasting it."

Don Nelson refocused the room.

"Tonight, we're running our drive-and-kick system. High-tempo, spacing, cuts. Everything we went over in this morning's walkthrough."

He turned to Wang.

"Zhizhi, I need you stretching the floor. Park yourself in that corner. Don't give the Spurs' twin towers a reason to collapse into the paint. On defense, you must hold your ground. Don't let them establish position under the rim."

"Yes, Coach." Wang nodded firmly.

Then he turned to Fortson.

"Danny, job number one: crash the boards. Offensively, set hard screens when Zhao or Sprewell drives. Create lanes. Make them pay on every switch."

"Got it," Fortson said, nodding.

Finally, Nelson looked at Barkley.

"Charles, you'll be matched up against one of the Spurs' twin towers. They're gonna put a role guy on Wang to conserve energy, so you're going to draw a big. Your job is to drag them out of the paint on offense, and on defense, be ready to double in the post."

Barkley grinned. "Don't worry, Coach. I've got this."

"Good."

And now, it was time.

Don Nelson turned to the focal point of the Knicks' system.

"Zhao Dong," he said. "This game is everything. We win tonight, we take the series back under control. We need your explosiveness, your ability to attack the rim, your vision, your leadership. You've got full command. Whether you shoot, pass, run iso, change the set—it's your call out there."

It was the ultimate green light. Zhao Dong had the freedom to rewrite the playbook on the fly.

Zhao Dong nodded, calm but sharp.

"My plan for tonight's game is…"

The room fell silent.

Every player turned to him, focused.

"Get rid of David Robinson first," Zhao Dong said coldly, tightening his shoelaces as he glanced around the locker room.

"Take out Robinson?"

Everyone perked up at once.

Just two nights ago, in Game 2, the Admiral had dropped 37 points. He was the main reason the Spurs tied the series.

"If we knock Robinson out and collapse the Spurs' Twin Towers, we take this game," Zhao Dong said calmly.

"Zhao's right!" Barkley clapped his hands, his voice full of energy. "Attack him early, draw fouls. He's not young anymore. He already cracked Rasheed's ribs—hell, he won't survive Zhao's full-speed impact. We get him out of the game, we win."

"Boss, snag a few more rebounds for us tonight!" Fortson shouted from the corner, grinning.

The locker room erupted into a chorus of laughter and shouts. The mood had shifted—tight focus, electric anticipation.

But Zhao Dong shook his head. "Giving up boards only lets them rest more. This is the Spurs we're talking about—semi-military discipline, Twin Towers anchoring the paint, and Popovich's iron-fist coaching. You don't break that kind of system with cheap tricks."

Fordson groaned. "Damn, makes it harder than it should be."

---

7:30 PM – Starting Lineups Announced

New York Knicks: Wang Zhizhi, Danny Fortson, Charles Barkley, Latrell Sprewell, Zhao Dong

San Antonio Spurs: David Robinson, Tim Duncan, Sean Elliott, Mario Elie, Avery Johnson

---

NBC Broadcast

Bob Costas: "We're back at the SBC Center in San Antonio for Game 3 of the 1999 NBA Finals. It's a must-win swing game, and both teams are making bold adjustments. Doug, what stands out?"

Doug Collins: "Ben Wallace stays on the bench again, Bob. Against the size of Robinson and Duncan, his lack of height is just too exposed. The Knicks are sticking with Wang in the frontcourt, even though he struggled in Game 2."

Isiah Thomas: "Yeah, and look at Barkley in the starting five. Charles, man, you're back in the Finals starting lineup! That tells you the Knicks are thin up front."

Doug: "It also changes everything defensively. The Spurs smothered Zhao Dong in Game 2—double-teamed him every possession, left Wallace and Fortson wide open, even dared Billups and Wang to shoot. But now? With Barkley in there, they can't leave him alone."

Isiah: "That's real. Even with one bad knee, no one dares give Chuck open looks. Same with Robinson—he still draws double-teams because of his gravity."

Doug: "But I'd bet the Spurs will still sag off Fortson and Wang. They'll gamble on them missing shots so they can double Zhao again."

Bob: "That's a good point, Doug, but—Billups isn't even starting tonight."

Doug: "Ah, you're right. That changes the whole equation."

Isiah: "It sure does. That tells me Zhao's gonna handle the rock a lot more. He's playing the point. And if the Spurs trap him up top, it opens the lane for Sprewell. Zhao's vision is elite—he'll find him on the cut every time."

Doug: "And once Zhao gives it up, he can slash back in from the weak side. The Spurs can't defend both wings crashing at once if they're focused on Zhao at the arc."

Bob: "So you're expecting the Spurs to send that help up high, above the free-throw line?"

Doug: "Exactly. Like the Bulls did in the East Finals—trap Zhao early, disrupt the offense before it sets."

---

7:40 PM – Tip-Off

The SBC Center erupted in boos as the Knicks took the court. Unlike Madison Square Garden, this arena wasn't built on glitz. No celebrities on the sidelines—just diehard Spurs fans and relentless energy.

"We're taking down Zhao Dong tonight!" shouted local beat reporter Mike Ray, sitting with his crew behind the baseline.

---

8:00 PM – Game 3 Begins

Dazhi went up for the tip against Duncan—and lost. Spurs ball.

Bob: "And here we go—Game 3 underway!"

As the Spurs moved into formation, Doug quickly noticed their setup.

Doug: "Looks like Pop's adjusted the Twin Towers play. Robinson isn't out near the three-point line this time—he's stationed at the free-throw line. That's within his range. A more compact look. He's a bigger threat there."

The Knicks were running a 2-1-2 zone.

Robinson held the high post.

Duncan posted low on the left, guarded by Fortson.

Barkley took the right block, covering Sean Elliott.

Sprewell was on Mario Elie at the wing.

Zhao Dong hovered near the top of the arc, matched up on Avery Johnson.

Isiah: "Interesting. Zhao's not helping in the paint—he's straight-up guarding the point guard. That might be a mismatch."

Johnson brought the ball up and tried to glide past the top of the arc, but Zhao met him early, cutting off the angle.

Just then, Sprewell darted up from the right wing.

Doug: "Here comes the trap!"

Double-team.

The Knicks' zone sprung into action—two on the ball, forcing Johnson to react.

Bob: "That's the key to this zone—pressure in pockets. Force quick decisions."

Suddenly, Robinson called for it.

"Jonhson!" he yelled, pointing to his chest as he stepped up near the free-throw line, ready to receive.

Johnson hesitated, then took a step back from Zhao.

Zhao's eyes narrowed.

Zhao (thinking): He's not pulling up. He's too far from the arc to shoot... and if he was passing to the wings, he wouldn't need that space. No—he's looking to dump it inside.

Zhao locked in.

He was ready to pounce.

---

(End of Chapter)

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