Gan Guoyang has always been honest and insightful in his self-awareness.
The one person you shouldn’t deceive in your life is yourself; if you can’t face yourself sincerely, it’s easy to live as a joke.
After finishing the Western Conference semifinals against the Spurs, Gan Guoyang realized he had declined to become Jordan, and this realization was correct.
Although Jordan couldn’t score 74 points in a single game, the past Gan Guoyang wouldn’t have performed ordinarily in three consecutive playoff games.
From the fifth game against the Spurs to the first and second games of the Western Conference Finals, Gan Guoyang could only be said to have played well by his peak standards.
His statistics were completely fine, scoring over 25 points, grabbing over 10 rebounds, along with a certain number of blocks, assists, and steals in the three games.
But Gan Guoyang could feel that he was no longer the absolute dominant force in these three games, with the game rhythm not entirely in his control.
In the fifth game against the Spurs, the engine for the Trail Blazers was Kobe Bryant.
In the first game against the Lakers, the deciding player was Jason Kidd, whose post-up play and coordination ignited the entire Lakers team.
In the second game against the Lakers, the Trail Blazers relied on an overall performance, with the outer shooters’ accuracy warming up to win the game.
The Trail Blazers won two out of three games, and Gan Guoyang’s performance was normal, but regardless of the win or loss, he wasn’t the most decisive player on the court.
For others, fans, or sports critics, this would not have a profound impact.
Even coaches wouldn’t notice much; in Bird and Harris’s view, Gan Guoyang was still the best and most trustworthy on the court.
Only Gan Guoyang himself knew this was a performance of being stretched thin, as if the 74-point game drained too much of his energy and desire to win, leaving him empty for a short period.
In his peak seasons, during the playoffs, in every game of the series, he could always be the deciding factor and absolute dominator, regardless of the outcome.
Both opponents and teammates, both teams’ coaches, referees, and even sideline fans, would be dominated by Gan Guoyang; his influence in games was unparalleled.
He was the only star, the brightest sun, and everything revolved around him.
This super control freak had unmatched control over the game, including invisible psychological control, making him the most terrifying devil in the NBA.
But in this year’s playoffs, Gan Guoyang’s gravitational force was diminishing; in some games, he was no longer the sole sun but one of the most influential figures.
In Gan Guoyang’s view, wasn’t this becoming Jordan? Out of ten games, he could only absolutely dominate six or seven, whereas in the past, it was nine or even all.
He also became increasingly lenient with his opponents; perhaps due to age, he viewed his peers with a sense of "there’s one less game to play," bringing a farewell mentality and no longer being as ruthless.
Against juniors like O’Neal and Garnett, he showed more senior-like kindness.
Winning while teaching them how to play, nodding if they played well, and even offering encouragement if not.
The joy of tearing apart opponents from body to spirit diminished.
Especially after Michael Jordan retired this season, his wicked taste in games lessened substantially.
The whispers of the devil, pre-game psychological assaults, trash talk during matches, or zeroing out opponents—all disappeared.
He just played normally, scored points, grabbed rebounds, stopped opponents’ attacks, fulfilling his duties on the court.
The 74-point game was for national vendetta and family hatred, to vent rather than for himself.
The 98-99 season was Gan Guoyang’s most normal year; he didn’t throw a single punch throughout the season, nor clash with opponents in any game.
He didn’t even draw a technical foul, becoming purer and thereby more like a regular player—becoming Jordan.
Therefore, regarding Shaquille O’Neal’s "see you in Los Angeles," Gan Guoyang didn’t react much.
When departing Portland by plane and asked by reporters about O’Neal’s words, Gan Guoyang merely shrugged and replied, "I don’t care."
As the plane descended, allowing views of the blue Pacific Ocean and the bright sunny Los Angeles, Gan Guoyang’s memories of victory and passion slowly ignited.
This was a beautiful city, bearing so many of Gan Guoyang’s beautiful memories related to basketball, championships, love, and friendship.
He still remembered the chaos of 1992, where fires left the city unrecognizable, and seven years later, it restored peace.
In 1992, it was the peak of Gan Guoyang’s basketball career, delivering the best performances with a transformative display in the Finals.
At that time, O’Neal had just entered the League, while Michael was also at the peak of physical and technical combination.
As he stepped off the plane, Gan Guoyang suppressed the feeling of "this is no longer my era," refusing to reminisce about the wonderful past.
Once a person starts reminiscing constantly, it often signals aging; indeed, athletes’ professional lifespan begins to decline at 35.
Yet Gan Guoyang didn’t want to fall into such a rut, forcing himself to focus on the present and the ongoing matches.
The Lakers are not an opponent that can be easily defeated; over the years, they’ve continuously crafted strategies and lineups against the Trail Blazers.