NBA: The Dynasty Crusher (Basketball)

The Knicks were back on offense. Zhao Dong received the ball on the left wing again, back to the basket, eyes locked on Ben Wallace.

He sized him up, dribbled once, twice, then spun sharply, launching into a silky fadeaway jumper over the outstretched arms of Big Ben.

Swish!

Money. Nothing but net.

Zhao's fadeaway mirrored Jordan's—sharp, fast, and impossible to predict. His turn carried a wide step backward, creating just enough space that even a defender like Wallace couldn't recover. It was clinical. Cold. Calculated.

On the sideline, Kobe Bryant watched with envy.

He knew how to turn and shoot—but not like that. His pivot didn't shake defenders the way Zhao's did. If the defender stayed close enough to block his line of sight—a classic eye-block technique—it threw off his rhythm. His hit rate would drop fast.

From the paint, Shaq shouted in frustration, "Zhao! Come in here and take me on like a man!"

He hadn't touched the ball much on offense, and watching Zhao rack up jumpers from the perimeter made his blood boil. The Diesel was running cold, and he didn't like it.

Zhao laughed, "You wanna get cooked that bad? Say no more, I'll serve it up next time down."

"Bring it on! Who's scared of who?!" Shaq fired back, pounding his chest.

The Lakers returned on offense. This time, the Knicks lifted the off-ball double-team. It was Shaq vs. Zhao Dong, one-on-one.

As soon as Shaq dipped into the paint, the Knicks smothered him with a blind-side trap.

Big Ben drifted to the perimeter—no threat on offense—and the Knicks let him wander freely. Their entire focus was on locking down Shaq.

NBC's Doug Collins chuckled. "They're baiting him. Big Ben's being treated like a traffic cone out there."

Bill Walton added, "Ironically, the off-ball double was designed because of Zhao Dong's dominance. But it's proving just as lethal against O'Neal."

The ball swung around to Glen Rice on the left arc. Ginobili closed out. Rice gave him a hard jab, got him off balance, then rose for a three.

Clang!

Brick. Off the iron.

Zhao and Fortson didn't even box out Shaq or Ben—they read the shot early and shifted to the best rebounding spots instinctively.

Zhao sealed off Shaq's path while Fortson slid in.

"Mine!" Fortson yelled, rising and snatching the rebound.

Big Ben quickly shuffled over to wall off Zhao, preventing a fast break.

But this Knicks team wasn't reliant on Zhao Dong's transition game anymore. Their three-guard lineup had speed to burn.

Fordson turned and fired a laser to Ginobili.

The Argentinian streaked past halfcourt, leaving Glen Rice chasing in the rearview. Rice never had the lateral quickness or defensive anticipation, and once he was beat, he gave up the ghost.

Ginobili soared toward the basket—only for a shadow to appear out of nowhere.

Smack!

Kobe Bryant, flying in like a bat out of hell, pinned the layup off the glass.

The Staples Center erupted.

"Blocked shot! Kobe Bryant sends it back! A statement play!" Marv Albert shouted from the NBC booth.

On the Lakers bench, Phil Jackson's expression turned from pride to disappointment. Not in Kobe—he admired that fire—but in Glen Rice, who didn't hustle back to help.

Shaq bellowed, "Here! Ball! I'm open!"

Ginobili, dazed from the block, didn't recover fast enough. Kobe turned and whipped a perfect full-court pass toward O'Neal near the free throw line.

"Not good!" Zhao muttered.

Shaq's hands reached out—but Zhao Dong had already launched.

From three meters away, Zhao soared.

He twisted mid-air like a hawk diving on prey. With one arm outstretched, he snatched the pass clean out of the air in mid-flight.

A thunderous gasp swept through the crowd.

"INCREDIBLE! Zhao Dong just stole that pass in midair! That's an all-time defensive play!" Doug Collins exclaimed.

"This might be one of the greatest steals in NBA regular season history," Bill Walton said. "And if this were the playoffs? Legendary."

Staples Center went dead silent.

Zhao landed on his feet, controlled the rock, and bolted into the frontcourt. Ben Wallace sprinted to cut him off, trying to slow the break.

Zhao hit the brakes—then boom, crossover.

Ben bit hard. Too hard.

He reached with his left, trying to recover—and got whistled for illegal hand-checking.

"Illegal contact. That's the call," Doug explained. "The league changed the rule this year. No hand-checking above the foul line."

Zhao smirked at Ben's frustrated face.

The rule wasn't kind to Big Ben, who had built his game in the trenches. In the post, that contact was legal. Up top? A foul every time.

The ref handed the ball back in.

Zhao isolated on the left wing. Ben tried to square up.

Then Zhao suddenly popped to the three-point line. Ben hesitated—just long enough.

Zhao caught the ball, squared up like he was going to pull up from deep.

Zhao Dong rarely took three-pointers, especially now that his offensive arsenal had evolved. But when he did shoot from beyond the arc, he maintained an outrageous 45% shooting percentage. That kind of efficiency? It translated to an effective field goal percentage of 67.5%—absolutely terrifying.

Of course, percentages don't tell the whole story.

His high three-point percentage was partly because he didn't shoot often. The fewer shots he took, the more selective he was—usually only firing when wide open. That's why his numbers looked god-tier. But once he increased his volume? Defenses adjusted. He had to pull up over tight coverage, even double teams, and his percentage dropped to 45%.

Still elite. Still deadly.

And that's exactly why no one in the league dared leave Zhao Dong open beyond the arc—no matter how few he attempted.

As the Knicks pushed the ball in transition, Big Ben Wallace came flying in from the wing, launching himself to contest Zhao Dong's pull-up. But he bit hard on the pump fake.

Zhao Dong calmly pulled the ball down, blew past Big Ben, and headed straight for the paint like a missile locked on target.

Shaquille O'Neal was waiting.

The moment Shaq saw Zhao Dong barrelling toward him, his eyes lit up. His heart pounded with anticipation. This was the challenge he craved.

"Come at me, you bastard!" Shaq muttered under his breath.

Even now, heavier and slower than his prime, the Diesel was still a monster on defense. Back in '93, his second year in the league, he had blocked 15 shots in a single game against the Nets—a stat that still stood as the second-highest single-game mark in NBA history.

But that was then.

Now, twenty kilograms heavier and a step slower, he didn't have the same lift. Still, his pride burned just as bright.

Zhao Dong covered six meters in four explosive steps. It wasn't a full-court sprint, but it was more than enough to generate serious momentum.

He wasn't just attacking the rim.

He was attacking Shaquille O'Neal.

And he wasn't slowing down.

"I'm going through you," Zhao Dong whispered to himself.

Shaq's teeth clenched. He knew what was coming. And he swore to himself—if Zhao Dong tried to dunk on him, he'd pull him out of the air. There was no way he'd allow himself to be posterized.

"Bang!"

Zhao Dong launched. His feet dug into the hardwood, and he took flight—right hand cocked back, ball in his palm, soaring toward the mountain under the rim.

The entire Staples Center went silent for a second.

TV viewers all over China held their breath.

This was it—Zhao Dong versus Shaquille O'Neal, full force, head-on.

O'Neal met him mid-air, but his lift wasn't what it used to be. Zhao Dong rose higher.

Boom!

It was like Mars colliding with Earth.

Shaq's massive frame absorbed the hit—and still, he was knocked backwards. His 300-pound body lifted off the floor, legs flailing. He tried to grab Zhao Dong to stop the dunk, but missed. Zhao Dong had also lost balance from the impact and began to fall backward.

But then—something ridiculous happened.

Zhao Dong's core erupted. Like a spring-loaded coil, his waist and abs clenched with supernatural force. His downward momentum stopped mid-air. And then—

"Drink!"

With a powerful groan, his body rotated. He adjusted in mid-air, did a partial somersault, and re-centered toward the rim.

"BANG!"

He hammered the ball through the basket with a one-handed slam as the rim shook violently under his weight.

"BANG!"

Shaq crashed into the stanchion, stumbled, and collapsed to the floor like a toppling skyscraper.

The arena erupted.

Every fan inside Staples was on their feet. Jaws dropped. Eyes wide. Disbelief on every face.

Marv Albert, calling the game for NBC, nearly swallowed his mic.

"YES! AND A FACIAL! ZHAO DONG JUST PUT SHAQ ON A POSTER… WITH FIREWORKS!"

Doug Collins couldn't believe it.

"That is NOT supposed to happen to Shaquille O'Neal. That dunk… that dunk just defied physics."

Applause thundered. Fans clapped so hard their hands hurt.

"Oh my goodness, Zhao Dong, Zhao Dong just dunked right over O'Neal and knocked him down! He's made O'Neal—Shaquille O'Neal!—look human!" roared the Chinese broadcasters Zhang Heli and Su Qun on CCTV.

On the Knicks bench, the role players were losing it.

"Long live the Boss!" "Do it again, Boss!"

They waved white towels in the air like madmen. Zhao Dong had invested a million dollars in every one of them—and after that dunk, they'd die for him.

Zhao Dong landed and turned to O'Neal, who was just picking himself off the floor.

"You used to my dunks yet, Shark?" he said with a smirk.

Shaq growled.

"You wanna fight? You wanna go right now?! I swear, Zhao Dong, the beef between us is real!"

"If you're not used to it yet," Zhao Dong called over his shoulder, "I'll give you more reps."

The crowd howled in laughter.

Shaq chased after him, seething.

"I swear I'll get you back! I will!"

Back in the NBC broadcast booth, Bill Walton had taken off his headset.

"That was not human," he said, shaking his head. "Zhao Dong's body control… it's like he broke the rules of gravity."

Back in the NBC broadcast booth, Matt Goukas was buzzing with excitement after Zhao Dong's earth-shaking dunk over Shaq.

"Don't believe in the limits of the human body," Matt declared passionately. "It's like the 100-meter sprint—records keep getting broken. People keep pushing the boundary. So if someone's gonna hang in the air longer than we thought possible, why not Zhao Dong?"

Doug Collins nodded slowly while reviewing the slow-motion replay on the monitor.

"It's rare, Matt. But tonight… I think we just saw history."

---

Back on the floor, the Lakers tried to regroup.

Shaquille O'Neal banged his body into position under the rim, twisting his shoulders and shouting back at Zhao Dong, who was glued to his hip on defense.

"Come on, you little dwarf! I'm gonna break this rim over your head this time!"

Zhao Dong's face darkened.

"Dead fish! Call me dwarf again and I'll break your damn backboard!"

O'Neal grinned—he loved getting under people's skin.

Fordson, seeing the threat, rotated and released Big Ben Wallace to help. Wallace slid over, cutting off Shaq's passing lane and sealing the baseline.

"You double-team me again?! Got no shame?" Shaq roared.

"Break it then!" Zhao Dong snapped. "If you've got the juice, beat it."

---

In the CCTV broadcast booth, Zhang Heli broke down the situation.

"The Lakers brought in Ben Wallace to reinforce their paint defense, but there's a problem—he has no shooting range. Once Shaq parks himself inside, Wallace is forced to drift out of the paint, which removes him as an offensive threat."

Su Qun nodded thoughtfully.

"Coach Zhang, how should the Lakers fix this?"

Zhang chuckled.

"Well, you can't have your cake and eat it too."

He leaned into the monitor and continued his analysis.

"If Shaq stays in the paint, the Knicks can just ignore Wallace. He's not a scoring threat from the perimeter. So Zhao Dong and Fordson can double-team Shaq off the ball without hesitation. But if Shaq leaves the paint to create space, he loses his biggest advantage."

Su Qun followed up.

"So if Shaq moves out, his efficiency drops. But if he stays, he gets swarmed. There's no easy solution."

"Exactly," Zhang said. "To beat the Knicks, the Lakers need someone who can match Zhao Dong's offensive efficiency. Under the rim, Shaq can do that—maybe even exceed it—but not if he's locked down before the ball even comes to him. It's a tactical paradox."

---

Back in the game, Glen Rice got the ball. The Lakers were rattled after Zhao Dong's dunk. Rice didn't even try to drive. Instead, he lazily pulled up and launched a contested three over Sprewell.

Clank! It bricked hard off the iron.

Zhao Dong soared for the rebound, snatching it out of the air with one hand. With lightning speed, the Knicks exploded in transition.

He fired a bullet outlet pass across the court to Stackhouse, who caught it in stride and finished the layup at the rim.

8–2.

The Lakers were down by six at home. Their offense was sputtering. Their sets weren't working. And the energy had drained from the crowd.

Finally, Phil Jackson signaled for a timeout.

---

Back on NBC, Bill Walton smirked.

"Interesting timing. O'Neal gets trucked on a dunk and Phil lets play continue. Stackhouse gets a layup and then he calls timeout? Classic Zen Master. But maybe a step late tonight."

Matt Goukas chuckled.

"Yeah, and if they wait any longer, Zhao Dong might just end this game in the first quarter."

Bill kept going, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I heard the Big Fella wanted to make a statement against the Knicks today. But based on what we've seen… that might've been a terrible idea."

Matt laughed openly.

"Oh, you can bet he pissed off Zhao Dong with that 'dwarf' comment. You poke the tyrant, you better be ready for the fire. And with this off-ball double-team strategy the Knicks are running, he might not even get the chance to respond."

Bill paused, then tilted his head.

"Unless… Shaq moves out of the paint and the Knicks still double him before the catch…"

Matt's grin widened.

"Then he's toast. 0-for-3 and knocked on his butt? The Knicks couldn't ask for a better revenge arc."

---

As the timeout dragged on, fans around China lit up their group chats and forums.

"No way! Shaq's unstoppable down low. No one's shutting him out—not even the Tyrant!"

"You serious? Zhao Dong just folded him like laundry. The Knicks are taking this personally."

---

On the bench, Zhao Dong wiped his face with a towel, breathing calmly. In truth, he wasn't trying to shut out Shaq. That wasn't the goal.

But Knicks head coach Don Nelson had made it clear—this off-ball double-team was a tactic they were testing for the postseason. If they met the Lakers in the Finals, stopping Shaq from even touching the ball would be their best shot.