We collaborated at the 1992 Olympics, at which time he was still at his peak, an incredible shooter and passer.
In the 97-98 season, I saw glimpses of his peak again, to my surprise, and asked him how he managed it.
He said, "I’m wondering the same thing, how did I manage that?"
I wanted to tell him, this is the power that a team gives to the individual.
Along with Mu Lin, who came through a trade, was Brellock, who earned the respect of the team and fans with his defense and fighting spirit.
In the 1997 playoffs Western Conference Finals, John Stockton played a representative series of his career, and our backcourt defense collapsed.
Terry Porter could no longer provide high-quality defense and pressing quick offense; Brellock’s arrival was critical.
In Atlanta, he had to take on a lot of offensive responsibilities, but in Portland, he could focus on defense, playing the best defensive performance ever.
His contributions were often overlooked; as Point Guard, he was the most reliable piece on the court, hardly making mistakes, which was the most important thing for the Trail Blazers.
In crucial, key moments for the team, Brellock was never absent; he could always hit key three-point shots or make critical defensive plays to contribute to victory.
He could understand my thoughts, conveying the coach’s intentions to the court instantly, which is fundamental for a player in the No.1 position, and in this, he is very trustworthy.
In the 1997-1998 season, a great regular season, Brellock’s performance improved more and more in the latter half, especially after the All-Star game.
Because the team’s offensive operation speed was increasingly fast, our offense ran like wild horses across the court; as a Point Guard, Brellock was an indispensable engine.
Though he often wasn’t the organizer or initiator of the attack, he was a great finisher and an important strike force.
Of course, what truly infused qualitative power into our team was the return of Arvydas-Sabonis to Portland; he was my favorite player in Portland, no question.
There were many admirable things about him; so tall yet so agile, such huge hands yet such delicate wrists.
Moreover, he had extremely high endurance to injuries, which was very similar to me, and I deeply understood and admired him.
His legs and knees were riddled with issues, spending the entire season in pain; he could have not returned to the NBA, but undoubtedly, he was bewitched by the Sea Siren.
I admired him, playing many games with injuries.
Even very small things, like stepping on a towel, would cause him foot pain.
The situation was worse than it appeared to the outside world; he had too many injuries in the past, and the issues were somewhat alleviated in Europe.
But, after all, he was aging; in Europe, it’s not like he didn’t play any matches, just that the consumption was somewhat less.
At the All-Star game, I gave him only 4 minutes of playtime; I asked if he minded, and he said a bit, as 4 minutes were too many.
Sabonis was too important for us, or rather, he was too important for Ah Gan; with him, Ah Gan could freely play the role he loved.
He was Ah Gan’s shadow warrior, an important shadow in the sunlight.
However, injuries were always troubling him; I asked if he was willing to meet my friend Dan Derrick.
Dan had helped me resolve my back pain issues, and Sabonis was willing to try any method.
Before the playoffs, he took time to fly to Boston, spending a few days with Dan, who immediately began treating his ankles and knees.
He used joint loosening techniques, a kind of deep massage, usually causing pain, which can break down scar tissue and restore the vitality of joints, muscles, and ligaments.
After a few treatments, I could see that Sabonis was improving; I knew that without him, the Trail Blazers would lose a part of their soul, and everything would be different with him there.
It was said that Sabonis had a very fiery temper when he was young, that his enormous physique could crash any NBA tough guy like a truck.
But since his son was born, he’s become much more gentle, diligently playing through injuries; he was no longer so fierce, and that’s precisely the role we needed on our team.
This brings up Isaiah Riddle, a thorough villain, who used to like being late but was hardly ever late in the 97-98 season.
Believe me, any championship-level team needs such a role, no matter how smoothly the regular season goes, there will always be moments in the playoffs when excessive toughness is needed.
Just like the 1984 Finals, the Celtics versus the Lakers, when Kevin McHale took down Rambis during his layup, as if a clothesline toppled a biking boy.
Whenever people talk about playoff intensity, the TV stations always replay this clip; I’ve always believed Kevin didn’t do it intentionally, but after he did, he reversed the series’ situation.
The Lakers were scared; they didn’t dare challenge physically; they lost the series.
Our team has the best fighter in league history, who took down the Detroiters; this was, I believe, the greatest thing Ah Gan did in his career, akin to Mike Corleone taking down the four families, clarifying the sky.
But we can no longer let the core players of the team take on such work; now in the league, doing so carries high risks, getting ejected, getting suspended.