When the game fell into a hopeless situation again as expected, Phil Jackson couldn’t help but feel frustrated.
Deep in Jackson’s heart, he always believed that the two seasons when Ah Gan retired were the most beautiful times for the league.
One of the greatest charms of competitive sports lies in its uncertainty, especially in basketball, a game involving multiple people chasing a ball and trying to send it into a small iron hoop.
The process and result of the game often go beyond individual control, influenced by many factors, especially luck, which brings strong uncertainty.
In Jackson’s view, this inherent uncertainty and luck are the most interesting parts of basketball.
It’s like mahjong or playing cards; at the moment of cleaning, shuffling, and designating the card-picking order, luck becomes tightly related to victory and defeat.
Good luck often determines the outcome of the game, and poor skills can be compensated by luck to achieve unprecedented victories.
On the contrary, sports like chess and Go virtually lack luck factors, except when one side makes an inadvertent mistake, but this is essentially poor skill.
Jackson has been the Bulls’ head coach since the 1990 season for ten years now, achieving three championships, which is already quite an impressive feat that many coaches cannot reach in their entire career.
But the problem is, in these 10 years, Ah Gan played 7 seasons and won 6 championships, which made Jackson deeply realize that when Ah Gan is in the league and participating in the championship contest, the fun of basketball’s uncertainty and luck greatly diminishes.
Every game against the Trail Blazers is firmly controlled and suppressed by Ah Gan.
The losing rhythm is usually similar; it’s hard to break free, and even winning seems to have only one or two ways.
Hoping Ah Gan’s teammates have bad skills and perform poorly, then somehow exhaust him in a series to barely pass.
This extremely high "certainty" (high chance of losing, small chance of winning with the same method) leaves many coaches, including Jackson, feeling desperate, and Jackson especially frustrated.
Even though the series had just started and the first game wasn’t finished yet, Jackson had a feeling like "seeing the end at a glance," already knowing the result.
This feeling caused Jackson to make some distorted operations in his fourth-quarter command, as he tried to change tactics hoping for a miracle, like turning a bicycle into a motorcycle.
He briefly replaced O’Neal and used a fast lineup led by Jide to initiate quick offensives, aiming to use speed to catch up and disrupt the Trail Blazers’ offensive and defensive rhythm.
Without O’Neal, the Lakers eliminated the risk of being targeted by the Trail Blazers for fouls, but also lost the absolute defensive attraction in the interior and the ability to protect the hoop.
The Lakers did launch fast counterattacks, yet the Trail Blazers’ assaults on the paint became even sharper, with Gan Guoyang, Kobe, and Charles Barkley continuously attacking the basket.
After a few rounds, they hit the Lakers with a 10:4 run, further widening the gap, forcing Jackson to call another timeout and replace O’Neal back into the game.
But at this point, in the fourth quarter, as time slowly passed, even on the court, O’Neal found it hard to get the ball, let alone chase the score.
Assistant coach Winter said to Jackson, "Phil, you’re too anxious, too anxious. You shouldn’t rotate like this."
Jackson looked up at the ceiling, knowing he was indeed anxious, but there was no choice.
If you’ve led a team to face Ah Gan’s Trail Blazers in the finals three times and lost each time, it’s impossible not to be anxious.
Jackson knows clearly that this season, Ah Gan is likely to retire; this is the last chance to defeat him, and he doesn’t want to miss this perfect opportunity.
But all the methods have been tried, all the thoughts have been used, all the lineups have been experimented with, while the Trail Blazers just adopt one move: trust Ah Gan, give him the ball, and you basically have no solution.
Ultimately, it’s about competing on inner strength and exhaustion; if this year you have more resources than the Trail Blazers, you might win; if not more than the Trail Blazers or only equivalent or marginally more, then step aside and go home to rest.
It is so cruel, so ruthless, and when Phil Jackson sits on the bench realizing this, he almost scratches his head in discomfort but cannot show it at all.
The Trail Blazers indeed seemed old and worn out this season, yet their resource level was not small, and the oil in the tanks of a series of old players was sufficient to last until June.
Jackson watched as the situation on the court quickly deteriorated, with the Trail Blazers expanding the lead more and more, he had to prematurely give up the struggle to catch up and announced surrender.
A night of disappointment for the Staples Center fans again, as the Trail Blazers took the first win of the Western Conference Finals with a 108:98 victory, leading the series 1:0.
The Los Angeles home was breached, the home advantage of the series was handed over, and the initiative was grabbed by the Trail Blazers.
However, fans didn’t seem too upset as they left, as if they had gotten used to it; some even said during interviews, "Reaching the Western Conference Finals is mission accomplished, already the highest honor, with opponents being the Trail Blazers."
Jerry West’s ability to endure such agony is clearly much stronger than Phil Jackson’s.
He had experienced the previous dark era, dominated by the Boston Celtics in the finals, not winning a single time.
From 1962 to 1972, it took a full decade to break free from the shadow and finally win a championship, losing in the finals 7 times during this period.