Chapter 28: Counterattack
The game was intense. The score stood at 5:4, with Zhao Dong making a free throw. The Magic quickly transitioned to offense. Grant pulled back and positioned himself on the right flank, while Penny Hardaway rushed to the right wing, drawing Charlie Ward with him. Zhao Dong stayed alert, defending Grant, who seized the opportunity to cut to the basket, signaling for the ball.
Penny passed it just as Zhao Dong was about to provide help defense. Grant caught the pass and attempted a layup, but Ewing, who had been quick to recover on defense, managed to disrupt the shot. The ball rimmed out, but in the chaos, Grant grabbed the rebound and attempted a small hook shot.
However, Zhao Dong, having quickly gotten back into position, surged from behind and swatted the ball off the backboard. The ball bounced back to him, and he snatched it out of mid-air just before it landed.
As Zhao Dong moved to secure the ball, Grant lunged forward to try and steal it. Zhao Dong raised his elbow to shield the ball, but before he could react, Grant staggered back with a loud scream and collapsed to the floor.
"Di!" The referee blew the whistle, ran over, and pointed at Zhao Dong, calling an offensive foul.
"Hold the ball high, hold the ball high!" Van Gundy shouted from the sidelines, visibly frustrated.
Zhao Dong, cursing under his breath, handed the ball to the referee, then turned to Oakley and Ewing. "His acting skills are incredible. I didn't even touch him."
The tension on the court grew as both teams fought for control.
"Rookie, your mistake was not touching him. You should've hit him. Give him a hard blow and break his bones with an elbow. His small frame can't handle you," Oakley glared at Zhao Dong.
"I'll do it next time. I was a little late just now," Zhao Dong nodded seriously.
"Charles, isn't that too much?" Grant, now on his feet, said awkwardly.
"The Postman nearly elbowed Jordan to death, and didn't even get called for a foul. You need to learn how to do it like him. That's his skill," Oakley ignored Grant, speaking to Zhao Dong.
"Okay, next time I'll use Jordan as my target," Zhao Dong replied coldly.
Grant's face twitched, and he walked away in silence.
The Magic prepared to inbound the ball. Nick Anderson missed a jumper, and Zhao Dong, in the right place at the right time, grabbed the rebound after pulling Grant aside, showing his elbows once again.
Van Gundy shook his head helplessly from the sidelines, watching Zhao Dong. He had asked him to hold the ball high, but Zhao Dong kept using his elbows, which could easily result in fouls or turnovers. However, Van Gundy understood Zhao Dong's reasoning: this kind of ball protection could act as a deterrent, making it harder for defenders to get too close. It was similar to how Rodman protected the ball after grabbing a rebound.
Seeing the sweeping elbows, Grant quickly backed away. With his smaller frame, he couldn't handle Zhao Dong's physicality.
The Knicks began their attack. Zhao Dong, still frustrated by Charlie Ward's missed pass earlier, had lost trust in him and gave the ball to Ewing. Ewing, not eager to shoot, passed it to Alan Houston. Zhao Dong, who had pushed Grant away, cut into the basket.
The shot was missed, and Zhao Dong found himself locked in a battle with Magic center Binkali. Standing at 211 cm but weighing only 104 kg, Binkali was no match for Zhao Dong's strength. Zhao Dong forced his way past Binkali and battled for the rebound with Grant, who rushed in. With his superior jumping ability, Zhao Dong grabbed the offensive board. As he landed, he held the ball with both hands, quickly recovered, and faced Grant under the basket.
Without hesitation, Zhao Dong launched into a powerful dunk. Grant, whose shot-blocking ability was decent, was far too slow to keep up with Zhao Dong's speed. He could only attempt to foul, trying to prevent the dunk.
With a loud "boom," the basket exploded as Zhao Dong slammed the ball through, knocking Grant to the floor.
"Beautiful! That was amazing!" Zhang Lili shouted, his excitement evident.
"The whistle blows, and we have free throws," Sun Zhenping laughed. Zhao Dong, breathing heavily, shot a cold glance at Grant, who was still on the floor, before turning to high-five Ewing and Oakley in celebration. His leaping ability had noticeably improved, allowing him to elevate faster than ever before. In the past, his bounce speed couldn't match the rhythm of his second attacks, and defenders like Grant could keep up. But now, with such elite jumping ability, once Zhao Dong entered the basket, defending him was nearly impossible. Grant couldn't match his strength, his vertical leap, or the speed with which he attacked the rim. How could he possibly defend against that?
"Shh!" Zhao Dong made the additional free throw, bringing the score to 8-4, with the Knicks leading.
"Beautiful! Zhao Dong scored the first eight points and nailed two consecutive 'and-one' free throws. His free throws are incredibly accurate!" Zhang Lili cheered.
"Grant now has two fouls, which will definitely weaken his defense on that end," Sun Zhenping commented.
"That's for sure," Zhang Lili replied.
The Magic quickly responded with a three-pointer from Penny Hardaway. On the Knicks' next possession, Zhao Dong was active under the basket, sticking to the game plan he had set before the match. He wasn't demanding the ball, instead focusing on playing second offense. Van Gundy didn't seem to mind—he probably trusted Ewing more for inside offense. Zhao Dong's active play compensated for Ewing's and the team's struggles outside the paint.
Ewing nailed a jumper, and then the Magic attacked again. The ball swung to the left wing, and Grant, moving from the right wing, made a sudden cut to the basket. Zhao Dong was a step slow to react. As Grant received the ball in the paint, he jumped for a layup. Just as he was about to send the ball to the hoop, a massive hand landed on his right shoulder, pulling him forcefully down from mid-air.
"Oh!" Grant hit the floor hard.
"Di!" The whistle blew.
The fans at the Magic's home court gasped.
The commentator, surprised, asked, "Did Zhao Dong just pull Grant down? Is this payback for those chokehold defenses?"
"Old man, are you satisfied with my defense?" Zhao Dong glared down at Grant, his eyes cold. He remembered the last time he was on the court and had been kicked out, with the system suspending his task. He'd been more restrained since, but today, after being choked by Grant, his anger had bubbled over. He wasn't holding back anymore. If there was retaliation to be made, it would happen.
Grant, pale and gasping for air, lay on the floor, still trying to recover.
"Rookie, do you want to kill someone?" Grant groaned from the floor.
"Boy, you are too much!" "Damn, that was a malicious foul! Do you want to destroy him?" The Magic players gathered around, angrily accusing Zhao Dong.
"Shh!" A chorus of boos erupted from the audience.
"Get lost, you want to fight?" Oakley stormed over, pushing away the Magic players to stand protectively in front of Zhao Dong.
"They might be looking for a fight, and we're happy to oblige," Zhao Dong stood up, pointed at Grant still on the floor, and said coldly, "Just now, he choked me twice. Didn't you all laugh happily? Then you must like my defensive strength, right?"
"Shut up! Want to eat a T?" The referee stepped in to scold both teams, trying to control the situation.
At that moment, Grant slowly got up, glaring at Zhao Dong. He realized he'd been outmaneuvered, his frustration mounting. The rookie had gotten the better of him, and he knew it. Grant's chokehold had been uncomfortable but harmless, but what Zhao Dong had just done was a whole different level.
(End of this chapter)
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