Let’s rewind the clock a little.
After finishing the pre-ga press conference, Skiles walked into the locker room with his assistant coach. He had expected a relaxed atmosphere, but instead, the room was utterly silent.
Hardaway sat in his spot, headphones on, eyes closed in silence.
Across from him, Ewing also sat quietly, rubbing his hands, his face expressionless.
Olajuwon was in a corner of the locker room, pacing back and forth, muttering sothing under his breath, as if he were praying.
Apart from them, everyone else was minding their own business, not saying a word.
"What’s going on?" Skiles asked, approaching Nelson with a hint of panic in his eyes.
’This atmosphere... it’s not right.’
Nelson shook his head slightly. He didn’t know what was happening either. From the mont they entered the locker room to prepare for the ga, everyone had seed listless.
"Shouldn’t you say sothing?" Nelson whispered.
Logically, everyone should have been happy. The previous strategy had worked, the Lakers’ internal conflicts were out in the open, and with the series going to a Ga 7, the Suns’ chances of winning had greatly increased.
But seeing the mood now, Nelson suspected they were placing too much importance on the ga, making everyone overly tense.
After all, this ga would essentially decide the championship.
Skiles scratched his head, frustrated. ’If only Chen Yu were here right now.’
But Skiles knew that mindset was crucial. If he didn’t say sothing now, especially on the road, they’d be done for.
He thought for a mont, walked to the center of the locker room, coughed lightly, and prepared to speak.
But before the words could leave his mouth, he was interrupted by Ewing.
"Scott, you don’t need to say anything," Ewing said, looking up, his gaze calm and profound. "You guys have done everything you can. This ga is on us now."
He turned, his gaze sweeping over everyone, and said in a voice that rang with conviction, "I’m going to play this ga like it’s the last one of my career."
If we win, my dream cos true.
If we lose, it’s all for nothing. I’ll end my career with nothing but regret.
There’s no turning back. We burn the boats and fight with everything we have.
Even though I’m already 40, now is the ti to give it my all, to leave everything on the court.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it moved everyone.
Olajuwon stopped his praying, walked over, patted Skiles’s shoulder, then stood in the middle of everyone and extended his right hand.
Ewing imdiately stood up and placed his large hand on top.
Then it was Hardaway, who stood up without a word and extended his right hand.
J Kidd, Marion, Gugliotta.
Even a young player like Charalidis, who had never played in the playoffs, squeezed into the crowd and extended his right hand, his expression more solemn than ever before.
No one shouted any slogans. They all looked at each other, and that glance said everything.
Each man had his own reasons. To fulfill a lifelong dream. For one last dance, a final, defiant stand. To prove themselves. To chase their aspirations. To earn a bigger contract under the glow of a championship ring.
But their goal was one and the sa: to win the championship.
Skiles stared at them, stunned. Then he understood. This wasn’t pressure. This was the resolve for an all-out battle.
He walked over and placed his right hand on the pile.
Then the coaching staff, Nelson.
"Actually, we’re still missing one person," J Kidd said suddenly.
He rembered when the "dostic abuse" chants had filled the stands—the darkest mont of his career. It was Chen Yu who had helped him get through it. Deep down, his gratitude toward Chen Yu was every bit as strong as Hardaway’s.
Hardaway grinned. "I bet he’s watching the ga on TV right now, right there with us. Over the past two years, he’s done so much... saved so many of us. That’s why we have no excuse to lose."
Across from him, Ewing nodded forcefully, a roar he could no longer hold back erupting from the depths of his chest.
"Win this ga!"
"Win this ga!"
Everyone roared at the sa ti.
"Let’s go!"
Hardaway waved his hand and was the first to walk out of the locker room.
The others followed one after another.
Skiles’s gaze followed them out. He took a deep breath and glanced at his assistant coaches.
With the series at this stage, he felt that tactics and such didn’t matter much anymore. It was all about willpower and a contest of who wanted the championship more.
When Ewing said he was going to play this ga like it was the last of his career, Skiles knew. The Suns were going to win today.
"Let’s go."
Skiles beckoned and followed them.
The entire Staples Center was like a boiling golden ocean. Brian, in a suit, also stood on the sidelines.
’Today is a big day for the team.’
"Everything okay?" Brian shouted to Nelson. The cheers from the Lakers fans were deafening; he could barely hear his own voice.
Nelson shook his head, then gave a thumbs-up.
Brian clapped him on the shoulder and pointed up at the private boxes, signaling that he was heading there.
His old man had also rushed to Los Angeles today to personally witness the team’s possible first championship.
Passing through the crowd, Brian knocked on the door of the private box.
Inside the box, his father, Jerry Colangelo, was talking with Stern.
Stern was also here. He was preparing to present the award for the Western Conference champions.
When Brian entered, Stern greeted him with a cheerful smile.
It was clear he was in a good mood.
Since Jordan’s second retirent in ’98, the NBA’s ratings had fallen off a cliff.
In ’98, the ratings were still 18.7, with nearly thirty million people watching the Finals.
But in ’99, they plumted to 11.3, with only sixteen million viewers.
Last year, the Lakers defended their title, the hype was maxed out, and Jordan made a coback, but the ratings only rebounded slightly to 12.1.
Overall, it was still a serious decline.
Just as they were about to sign a new television broadcasting contract, Stern knew all too well the importance of ratings.
After the playoffs began, the ratings for the first two rounds had been consistently low, even dropping into the single digits.
In contrast, the ratings for the West Finals kept climbing.
The ratings for the Battle of Celestial King Mountain surged to 15.4.
The last ga saw another increase, reaching 16.3.
Today’s ga would only have higher ratings.
You could say that this year’s West Finals had the attention level of the actual Finals.
So how could Stern not be in a good mood?
"Jerry, you’re still in great health, and the Suns have beco more and more outstanding in your hands. This proves your strategy is sound and successful," Stern said with a broad smile.
Brian had just sat down when he heard this. He instantly perked up and glanced at his father.
’This must be about Old Kolangelo wanting to sell the Phoenix Suns.’
Brian knew all about this.
Old Kolangelo wasn’t like the Pioneer’s owner, Paul Allen, who had money to burn. For many years, Old Kolangelo had run the Phoenix Suns purely out of passion.
So, the reason Old Kolangelo wanted to sell his shares in the Phoenix Suns was partly for the money, but more so because he truly loved the Suns and felt he had too little capital himself. He wanted to bring in new investors to make the team even better.
Running a team also requires capital.
If they were like the Nicks, paying the luxury tax every year without a care, the Suns’ record might be even better.
Jerry Colangelo pursed his lips and didn’t reply. His gaze passed through the glass, landing on the players below who were about to take the court.
"David, I will consider it seriously."
As he spoke, Jerry Colangelo seed moved.
His entire life was inextricably linked with the Phoenix Suns.
As a college teammate of Chamberlain, he entered the NBA in a different capacity, worked for the Bulls for two years, and then seized an opportunity to beco the first general manager in the history of the Suns.
He did that job for a full 26 years.
In those 26 years, he had poured everything he had into the team, even serving as the Suns’ head coach himself.
In the end, to make the Phoenix Suns better, he even bought the team.
After so many years of watching the Phoenix Suns’ ups and downs without ever winning a championship, he wouldn’t say he was disheartened, but he always felt a sense of regret.
This was also why he had handed the team over to Brian, stepped back from managent, and even considered selling.
’But if they can really win the championship this year, maybe that could change things.’
As the few of them chatted, the ga below began.
It was expected to be an evenly matched battle, but who would have thought that not long into the ga, it would beco completely one-sided.
The once-roaring Staples Center had quieted down considerably.
In the private box, Brian couldn’t help but jump to his feet, eyes wide in disbelief. His expression scread, ’Is this still the sa Suns team I know?’
Brian had been quite busy these past few days.
The draft was approaching, and he had to quickly sort things out with Yao Ming. If he couldn’t, he needed to finalize a backup plan.
Then there was planning for the next season.
Veterans like Mario Elie and Dan Majerle would definitely be retiring.
So, for the upcoming season, he knew they’d need to bring in a number of new players. He had to monitor the free agent market and map out potential trades to strengthen the roster.
But this series was too important to ignore. Brian was certainly following it, though not so closely that he watched every single ga.
In his mory, the series against the Lakers was a toss-up, a 50-50 split—or maybe even 40-60 in the Lakers’ favor. The Suns usually needed an explosive performance from one player just to squeak out a win.
But right now, the Phoenix Suns were completely dominating the Lakers in every aspect.
Watching the ga, Brian was struck by how fiercely the Suns were playing.
It was only the first quarter, yet as soon as the Lakers brought the ball past half-court, J Kidd was already pressing up to harass and slow them down.
Everyone was running at full speed, defending for their lives.
Under the basket, even when guarding O’Neal one-on-one, Olajuwon gritted his teeth and fought with all his might, not giving an inch.
Moreover, they were fighting for every ball. A little over six minutes in, after a Lakers turnover, Marion dove for the ball, wrestling on the floor with Kobe.
How could Brian not be moved by this kind of spirit?
BANG.
Under the basket, O’Neal was already charging, unstoppable, but Olajuwon didn’t even think before stepping up to et him.
Through the glass, Brian could almost hear Olajuwon’s pained cry as he was sent flying.
’In the entire league, probably only a handful of guys would dare to stand in front of a charging O’Neal.’
The whistle blew. Offensive foul.
Olajuwon lay on the floor for a full five seconds before slowly getting up, his face devoid of any expression, as if he weren’t the one who had just been sent flying.
Brian shuddered for so reason. At that mont, he was struck by a powerful feeling: the Phoenix Suns were going to win!
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