[On the morning of April 26th, in Los Angeles, before the game started, I gathered the players together and asked everyone to meditate with me.
This process doesn’t last long, usually about 15 or 20 minutes.
But it is enough to tell the players that if we want to make a breakthrough, in performance, in championships, and mentally, we must rely on each other.
Neither Tracy McGrady’s stellar performance nor Shaq’s is enough on its own.
We are facing a long-standing nightmare, an opponent we have struggled to surpass, and we believe this showdown is very important.
So, we need to achieve unity in mind and action, to find that space sufficient to accommodate each other and grow together.
This is undoubtedly a formidable challenge. The fearsome part is not the opponent, but our current situation.
Today’s players are too focused on personal development. They all want to be unique individuals, habitually resisting cooperation with other forces.
Especially after winning the championship last year, we lack the persistence of "doing it again."
In the early season, we held a few meditation sessions, and soon I realized that a mocking atmosphere pervaded the locker room, as everyone underestimated this ritual.
Actually, we need meditation, we need unity. Meditation can deepen the connection between people.
It’s a natural state that’s hard to describe, regardless of whether it’s logical or aligns with normal thinking.
It’s like suddenly the players found their groove, and they can clearly perceive each other’s presence.
During my time with the Knicks in the late sixties and early seventies, I often had such inspirations.
I still remember a game where Tom McMillan, Bill Bradley, and I could smoothly complete all tasks.
Including pick-and-rolls, bounce passes, help defense, etc., at least for a continuous five minutes.
On the court, I have never felt so alive, like playing jazz, when someone plays a scale, others appear at the right place at the right time to maintain the rhythm of the team.
Everyone became one, a true collective.
The atmosphere within the team forced me to abandon the meditation plan and instead nag like an ordinary coach.
Actually, just last season, meditation helped us, that unforgettable morning of Game Six in the 2001 Western Conference finals against the Trail Blazers, in Portland.
Usually, when we decide to meditate before the team breakfast, the players would always be a few minutes late.
But that time, they all arrived early, eager to concentrate through the ritual.
Before we confirmed the battle plan, I already knew they were prepared for the challenge.
In the intimidating Portland Rose Garden Arena, looking up, you can see 11 championship banners, at least half of which were won at the expense of the Los Angeles Lakers.
Ultimately, we defeated the Trail Blazers on the road, winning 4:2, advancing to the finals, and paving the way to the championship.
But this year, it seems no longer effective; overall, everyone’s attention was distracted early, external remarks disrupted us, and everyone had their own thoughts.
People wanted to see our joke, to see us knocked down from the top spot in the Western Conference.
This was infuriating, but the reason for the anger wasn’t the remarks, it was the very real fear of failure.
We must admit this.
After meditation ended, I gave a speech.
I told everyone that everything ahead was unknown; we should no longer hold back. This is a crucial step in building confidence and establishing a dynasty.
I know Shaq is excellent; throughout the regular season, he worked hard, played 74 games.
Unfortunately, in the regular season MVP selection, he lost to Tim Duncan. I believe he completely has the capability to win this award consecutively.
This kept him in an angry state; during the regular season, he would never sit on the bench watching the opponent’s video for more than five minutes.
But in the playoffs, he would seriously study, every possession, every detail.
The always-smiling Shaq did not smile until the game started; he was serious as a statue.
Of course, I didn’t realize at the time that behind anger often hides fear.]
—Excerpt from the 2014 publication, Phil Jackson’s autobiography "Sacred Hoops: Spiritual Lessons of a Hardwood Warrior".
After the playoff matchups were determined, Gan Guoyang and his Glory Team teammates arrived in Los Angeles four days early to prepare for the first round.
On April 22nd, the day after the regular season ended, they took a charter flight directly to the City of Angels, without even stopping over in Las Vegas.
Many said they didn’t bring a change of clothes, to which Gan Guoyang said to buy them directly in Los Angeles; you can find anything you want there.
Except victory.
Victory requires careful preparation and a hard fight.
Every time he comes to Los Angeles, Gan Guoyang feels a sense of calm inside.
He has always liked playing here, but this season, he has yet to win in Los Angeles.
Although in the first regular season match, Gan Guoyang scored 50 points and made a stunning three-point buzzer-beater, defeating the Lakers for the first win.
But in the three subsequent encounters between the two teams, the Lakers won them all; their line-up’s advantage in talent and experience is undeniable.
Especially after Tracy McGrady’s return, the Glory Team struggled to manage both inside and outside offensive systems simultaneously.