The opening game of the 1997-1998 season, Rose Garden Arena, Miami Heat vs. Portland Trail Blazers.
Pat Riley stood on the sideline, with his immaculately slicked-back hair and a crisp Armani suit.
His physique hadn’t changed at all, no signs of weight gain, no belly, still as dashing as ever.
The additional wrinkles on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes bore witness to the passage of time; he had already been with the Heat for 10 years.
Ten years, two Finals appearances, one championship, building a strong team from scratch on a blank slate; Riley’s achievements are worthy of praise.
He relied on a superstar strategy, focusing on attracting superstars from other teams, building a superteam, and applying methods to rapidly expand the team.
To him, draft picks were merely resources for trading superstars, a team-building model in the NBA that could be seen as pioneering, offering inspiration to teams that followed.
In the 80s and 90s, when labor agreements were still imperfect, there were many loopholes to exploit. Riley used every means to consistently build dazzling rosters.
However, over the span of ten years, a single championship seemed rather solitary. Alas, the dominance of Ah Gan and Jordan in the league was too strong.
With Jordan around, reaching the Finals was impossible; even upon reaching the Finals, Ah Gan was waiting, making it exceedingly difficult.
This summer, after losing Hakeem Olajuwon, the wrinkles on Riley’s face deepened, and he knew that the 10-year championship cycle had likely ended.
Though the team still had Barkley, Hardaway, Drexler, and as usual had poached PJ Brown from the Trail Blazers, the team’s combat effectiveness was much diminished.
Drexler was completely unmotivated, having decided before the season began that it would be his last, retiring after the games.
Tim Hardaway was still in his prime, and acquiring him was a proud move by Riley, but it also led to the disintegration of the Heat.
Trading away John Starks for Hardaway seemed to strengthen the point guard position, but it hurt the players’ feelings—they had clearly won a championship, forming a beautiful team.
In Riley’s eyes, past championships were history; whether you could stay was entirely based on your current abilities. If there were better options, he wouldn’t hesitate to trade you for better assets.
This cold, ruthless approach allowed the Heat’s star players to see through his tactics.
The ideological differences between Olajuwon and Riley increasingly exacerbated, and the conflicts grew.
Olajuwon would rather start anew with the disorganized roster of the Nets than stay with the Heat for another year.
With Olajuwon’s departure, Charles Barkley became the linchpin in the interior. When Riley saw Barkley at training camp, he almost fainted.
This guy hadn’t trained properly all summer, instead indulging himself until he reached a staggering 300 pounds, hoping the training camp would help him slim down.
Before the game started, Barkley was warming up on the court. Like a large, solid door, his 6’6" height appeared quite immense.
Barkley didn’t dare make eye contact with Gan Guoyang. He resembled a guilty child, looking up and down, left and right, but never straight ahead.
Gan Guoyang shook his head at Barkley’s demeanor, understanding why Olajuwon left the Heat—after all, the man was a Muslim.
During the introduction of players by the onsite DJ, when Charles Barkley’s name was called, the arena was filled with boos.
His misdeeds in Orlando had led to widespread boycott and boos across the nation, with waves of derogatory comments.
Gan Guoyang was correct; Barkley needed a bodyguard and should make sure his wife and daughter were safe, or they would surely face attacks.
Of course, all Gan Guoyang could do was offer advice; he didn’t have the time or energy to manage his friend any further. Being able to make a phone call as a reminder was commendable enough.
Last season’s Western Conference Finals loss drove Gan Guoyang to pour all his energy into training and games.
Most social activities were halted, and business matters were entirely handed over to his wife, allowing him to wholeheartedly focus on basketball and continue improving.
For someone like him, the anguish of losing serves as the best motivation to move forward, having already had more than enough experience of the joy of success.
As the game neared its start, Gan Guoyang took off his warm-up jacket, ready to enter the court, leaving a space on the bench.
Larry Bird would be absent until December due to heart problems and wouldn’t return for the season’s first month.
Team leadership was handed to assistant coach Rick Carlisle, who appeared quite nervous.
Even though Hart was older and had experience as a head coach, he still ceded interim coaching authority to Carlisle.
Because Hart knew he was already established in the coaching circle, at his age, he needn’t worry about job security—he could certainly make a living.
Moreover, he was content being an assistant coach, with no ambition to be a head coach; being older, his approach was to continue diligently working in his role.
Carlisle was different; he was very young and relatively new to the coaching circle, yet to gain acceptance from his peers, he needed the credential and experience.
Therefore, Carlisle picked his best suit for tonight, with a blue tie, making himself look sharp and dashing, like the movie star Jim Carrey, not one bit inferior to Pat Riley.
Seeing that Carlisle was nervous, Gan Guoyang went over and patted his shoulder, then somehow pulled out a photo frame.