Jordan and Larry Bird were discussing the Eastern Conference Finals.
His eye for the ga was truly professional. His analysis was sound, his logic ticulous, with no discernible flaws.
But hearing him say that, Larry Bird felt a lot more confident.
Jordan was the God of Basketball, but his luck at the card table was notoriously bad. Moreover, his predictions about basketball and its players were usually way off the mark.
So, when Michael swore up and down that the Pistons had the advantage and a better chance of winning, Larry Bird’s heart, which had been hanging in suspense, relaxed slightly.
Of course, Big Bird knew the Pistons were the main obstacle on the Pacers’ path to a championship.
But he had a lot of faith in Su Xi.
The ga went on.
Jordan was still singing Wade’s praises.
Wade drove relentlessly, constantly creating contact and drawing fouls. His performance made the Heat Team’s highly touted young guns, Odom and Butler, look soft and ineffective by comparison.
Even soone who knew nothing about basketball could watch this ga and see that Wade was the one who deserved to lead this young squad. His talent and willpower were plain to see.
However, the Heat Team was losing, and the deficit was only growing.
They were essentially no different from the Celtics.
From start to finish, the Heat Team was never in the sa league as the Pacers.
"Strictly speaking, there are only three real playoff teams in the East: the Pistons, the Pacers, and the Brooklyn Nets," Michael Jordan said languidly during the third quarter. "The other teams just don’t have that playoff intensity. This is the disastrous legacy I’ve left for the East."
"I can’t believe that after all these years since my retirent, the power imbalance of ’West strong, East weak’—caused by everyone trying to compete with —still hasn’t eased up."
He was flexing.
The mont Jordan started talking, Bird, a master of the art himself, recognized the intense flexing.
Normally, he would have definitely retorted, "Didn’t you just retire from Washington last year?"
But now, he just nodded. "Starting in the late ’80s, the stars who couldn’t break through in the East started running off to the West..."
Bird was backing Jordan’s play. But that didn’t an he was about to surrender his own bragging rights. Why the late ’80s? Because that’s when Bird began to dominate the league.
If anyone else had said that, Jordan would’ve surely fired back a retort or two. But with Bird saying it, his arguntative side didn’t flare up. Instead, it felt like a mont between two titans—’warming wine and discussing heroes,’ the only true legends in the league being him and Bird.
Their brand of bravado was perfectly in sync.
When Su Xi was on the court, he was firmly in control. Thanks to his elevated playmaking, the Pacers’ overall offense reached a level they hadn’t achieved during the regular season.
With three minutes left in the third quarter, the Pacers had already built a 21-point lead.
It was garbage ti.
But just then, during a spin move, Little O’Neal stepped on Grant’s foot and had to be subbed out. Although the check-up revealed no major issues, he was told to remain on the bench for observation and couldn’t re-enter the ga.
The Heat Team saw this as their chance. Led by Wade, they launched a furious assault, hoping to orchestrate an incredible coback.
Carlisle called on Su Xi, sending him back onto the court ahead of schedule.
On the very first possession, he used a quick crossover to slice through Wade’s defense. He charged fearlessly into the paint, collided with Grant in mid-air, and after creating separation, forced the ball in for the basket and the foul.
Bird couldn’t help but applaud Su Xi’s clutch, stabilizing basket.
Then, he looked over at Jordan.
He thought Jordan would surely be impressed with Su Xi after that. It was hard for players of their caliber not to appreciate soone who could co in cold during a crucial mont and imdiately make a decisive, tough play to set the tone.
But Jordan was clenching his jaw. He asked Larry Bird, "Has this kid been spending too much ti with Isaiah Thomas?"
Huh?
Bird frowned, his heart sinking. ’What’s this about?’ The player Jordan detested most in the world was Isaiah Thomas.
"The kid’s rhythm on his drives, the way he lowers his center of gravity, his control on the crossover, how he baits the defender... it’s exactly like Thomas," Jordan said. "The way he just baited Wade into shifting his lead foot was exactly how that bastard Isaiah used to trick ..."
?
’Is he having a painful flashback or sothing?’
Larry Bird’s mind raced, but he didn’t know what to say.
Just then, Jordan spoke again. "Larry. This kid shouldn’t be learning Isaiah Thomas’s skills. His agility, coordination, and natural center of gravity are nowhere near Isaiah Thomas’s. Why would he watch tapes to learn from a bastard like that?"
"With his height, wingspan, and strength... he should be developing his ga as a shooting guard."
Jordan said.
The mont Bird heard that, he sensed an opening. He sighed. "Alas, Michael. I want him to transition to shooting guard, too. He even wants to do it himself. But, as you can see, his hands are huge... It’s a massive help for his ball-handling, steals, and blocks, but his shot is about as good as O’Neal’s. It’s just not sothing he can practice his way out of."
"Not everyone can be you, with big hands and a stable shot."
Bird sounded very sincere, with a hint of genuine frustration in his voice.
Jordan’s brow was furrowed as he stared at the high-end plasma TV.
"His shooting form isn’t bad, much better than O’Neal’s. He might even get hot and knock down a few in a row sotis. But if he doesn’t find the right training thod, it will be very difficult for him to develop a consistent pull-up jumper."
Jordan said.
"Michael, who was your shooting coach back in the day? Can you give a referral?"
Bird asked quickly.
"A shooting coach? Haha." Jordan let out a hearty laugh, his swagger on full display. "I don’t need a shooting coach. My technique *is* the standard. Who’s qualified to teach ?"
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