But it was different for coaches and players; they had to suppress everything, hang on, and resist.
Going up against Gan Guoyang had always been first and foremost a test of willpower.
The point gap hovered around 6–8 points, and both sides’ offensive efficiency was dropping.
As the intensity ramped up and stamina drained away, both teams started throwing up some pretty outrageous shots.
Like Fisher’s three that was pure air, or Brad Miller’s midrange from the top of the arc, off the glass, but he didn’t even touch the rim.
Pippen’s fast-break layup turned into a straight-up over-the-bridge miss, and even Gan Guoyang had a turnover where he didn’t secure the ball, spun for a hook, and realized the ball was gone.
In this situation, both sides were getting anxious.
The Lakers couldn’t close the gap, and Glory couldn’t stretch it.
Especially Glory—yeah, they were ahead, but there was still a whole quarter to go.
Their rotation depth just wasn’t on the Lakers’ level, and the three-guard lineup was starting to fall apart.
Good thing O’Neal was still sitting on the bench, otherwise Gan Guoyang would’ve had to go inside and wrestle the Shark.
Seeing this, Old Tang decisively called a timeout, then changed the rotation, sending Gan Guoyang to the bench to rest with two minutes left in the third.
"I should be playing the whole third quarter."
"No, you rest now. You’re going back in at the start of the fourth."
Gan Guoyang nodded; he did need to make an adjustment.
Gan Guoyang had already poured in 31 points, nothing crazy by his standards.
He was prepared to average 40 per game this series; otherwise it would be hard to win.
With Gan Guoyang on the bench, the offensive core of Glory shifted back to Van Exel.
The guy really had guts and a big heart. Out of the timeout, he used a simple single screen on the perimeter, pulled up from three—and nailed it!
That was Glory’s second three of the half.
After going nuclear from deep in the first half, Glory wasn’t nearly as hot in the second.
This three from Van Exel was crucial; the lead was pushed back to 9.
Pippen drove with everything he had, barreling into the paint, bumping Miller off and banking it in.
Van Exel missed his next jumper, and with the clock winding down, Holi hit a tough fading jumper.
That wasn’t even one of his strengths, but he knocked it down anyway; the Lakers players were going all out.
When the third quarter finally ended, it was 84–79. The scoring on both sides was actually pretty good, but the process was brutal.
That was when Old Tang’s hidden rotation card kicked in.
Gan Guoyang opened the fourth quarter on the floor, went straight to the low post, and went to work on Samaki Walker with a back-down and spin.
A casual one-arm tomahawk dunk! Samaki Walker had absolutely no chance of stopping Gan Guoyang.
Tracy McGrady forced his way to the rim and drew a foul—this whistle was a bit generous from the refs—and then split the free throws.
Grabbing the rebound, Glory didn’t run; they slowed it down, and Gan Guoyang went right back to the low post to get the ball.
The Lakers sent a double-team, he kicked it out to the top of the arc, Terry Porter caught it, launched the three—and drilled it!
Porter’s first three of the night! Glory’s three-point shooting had been excellent this game.
After the bucket Porter was fired up, shouting and slapping hands with Gan Guoyang.
This is the charm of NBA basketball: no matter how many times you lie in bed afterward, your whole body aching, regretting it a thousand times over—"I really don’t want to play anymore, if I do I’m a damn dog."
But the moment you step on the court, the adrenaline spikes, you’re locked into the battle, you hit a big shot—man, that feeling is incredible, like an addiction.
Lindsey Hunter’s answer three missed, and there was a mad scramble under the basket, but Gan Guoyang came up with the ball again.
Phil Jackson cursed to himself: damn it, with Ah Gan out there, their Offensive Rebound schemes were completely useless.
It had been like this back in the Bulls days—Jordan driving, with Pippen and Grant crashing for Offensive Rebounds and putbacks, a very efficient and effective playoff strategy.
But Gan Guoyang’s dominance on the defensive glass rarely gave the Bulls that chance; his strength, physical tools, and anticipation were just too good.
In the regular season, he averaged 26 points and 12 boards, as if he were no longer that rebounding king.
But in the playoffs his rebounding was still rock-solid: tonight he’d already grabbed 18.
Next possession, Gan Guoyang put the ball on the floor and forced his way to the rim; the Lakers didn’t dare send the double and could only watch him get all the way to the cup, where he flipped in a delicate left-handed finger roll for two more.
Phil Jackson called timeout; the Lakers looked on the verge of collapse, and O’Neal had to come back in.
The Lakers had been botching a lot of the little things tonight. Jackson couldn’t believe this was the same team that had ridden team play to a title last season.
On that last defensive possession, the middle of the floor was sliced open way too easily, and then there was no help, no contest.
You don’t get an Offensive Rebound and your defense just falls apart like that?
Thinking back to breakfast, when nobody wanted to seriously do their meditation, Jackson felt even more disappointed.
Not far from the bench, Nicholson was muttering like a madman.
God, what a Lovecraftian scene: an indescribable monster on the other side, a bunch of warriors who’d lost their confidence, and a raving lunatic cursing on the sidelines. Jackson himself felt on the edge of a breakdown.
He reminded himself this was only Game 1, and even if they lost, it wasn’t the end of the world.
This kind of thing happened all the time: in a series opener, the stronger team comes out flat and drops one, then finds its rhythm in the later games and takes control of the series. Nothing to panic about.
Maybe losing this one would actually spark the players’ fighting spirit and truly kick off the title defense.
Jackson tried to comfort himself like that, but deep down, he just didn’t buy it.
Because this opponent wasn’t like the others.
The shadow Ah Gan had cast over Los Angeles people for so long was tormenting the Lakers’ players, coaches, and fans.
If this were some team they hadn’t faced much in the past, the reaction wouldn’t be nearly this extreme.
A lot of fans looked really dejected; they were losing faith in the outcome.
Especially after the timeout, when O’Neal turned in the low post and bricked a hook.
Gan Guoyang ran a pick-and-roll with Van Exel, popped out, caught it at 45 degrees for a midrange jumper—damn it, he hit again!
A lot of fans started clutching their heads, especially some young ones in baseball caps and Tracy McGrady No. 1 jerseys. This might have been the first time they truly felt Ah Gan’s destructive power in the playoffs.
It hurt. It hurt like hell.
Tracy McGrady tried to take over with isolation, but when the double-team came, his decision-making wasn’t great.
Back in the 2000 West Finals loss to the Trail Blazers, Tracy McGrady was still young, not yet ready to carry the load.
After the 2001 title run and this season’s regular-season explosion, Tracy McGrady had officially become the team’s primary perimeter option.
But in this game, a lot of his reads were too simple and crude—he just wanted to rely on his talent and win the way he did in the regular season, by shooting himself into rhythm.
But once his touch faltered, his inefficiency started to hurt the team.
On top of that, Glory was using a lot of zone defense tonight, and Tracy McGrady hadn’t really found a way to pick it apart.
He was still running the usual man-to-man stuff: off-ball cuts, catch-and-turn jumpers, on-ball drives into pull-ups, or hang-time layups at the rim.
The result was that under the constraints of the zone, most of his shots turned into long twos. Combine that with a cold hand, and naturally his performance wasn’t good.
At the start of the fourth, Tracy McGrady finally began to show some life.
First he exploded to the rim for a switch-hands layup, then cut without the ball and hit a jumper from 45 degrees.
After O’Neal checked back in, Tracy McGrady fed him for a dunk—shockingly, it was only their second connection of the night.
But the deficit still wasn’t shrinking, because Gan Guoyang had begun detonating from the low post.
He kept getting touches on the block, spinning into hooks and layups, drawing fouls, attacking with the ferocity of his younger days.
Because Glory was so hot from three, the Lakers didn’t dare send frequent double-teams, and the result was: Tracy McGrady scores one, Gan Guoyang answers with one of his own.
The margin stayed around 8 points, and the Lakers never found that turning-point run.
With 4 minutes left in the fourth, the Lakers strung together 4 straight points, cutting it to 5.
Gan Guoyang missed a fadeaway, and the Lakers had a chance to make a real push.
O’Neal caught the ball, and suddenly realized the man guarding him was Ah Gan.
His spin move came a beat slower, and he ended up kicking the ball out—still a good look.
Fisher with the three from the top of the arc! If it went, it would’ve been the bugle for a comeback.
The ball circled the rim and spat out, and Gan Guoyang hauled in the rebound!
A monster line of 42 points and 22 boards—he brought the ball up himself, spotted a crack in the Lakers’ transition defense, suddenly shifted gears, attacked the rim, took off, and hammered it home!
Holi, sliding over to help, was blasted out of bounds and still got hit with a blocking foul for an and-one.
Gan Guoyang landed like nothing had happened, high-fived his teammates, and stepped to the line.
Nicholson stared at Gan Guoyang, still muttering, "An unfair game, an unfair game!"