156: Staples Center in dire straits!
A Lion needs a bigger hunting ground.
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Lin Feng turned off his phone and tossed it aside.
He stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window of his hotel room.
Outside the window was the unfamiliar night view of Oklahoma City.
His eyes became calmer and deeper than ever before.
The anxiety and unwillingness caused by being overwhelmed by talent had vanished without a trace.
In its place was an absolute confidence, a sense of control over everything.
He knew.
The key to victory in this Western Conference Finals was no longer in Oklahoma.
Game 3.
Los Angeles.
Staples Center.
Another confrontation, outside the court, had already begun.
And the outcome of that confrontation would determine the ultimate direction of this series... Two days later, Los Angeles.
The Lakers' bus slowly drove towards Staples Center.
The atmosphere inside the bus was terribly oppressive.
No one spoke, only the slight bumps as the vehicle moved.
0:2.
A score that was enough to make any team feel despair.
The Los Angeles media had completely turned.
The newspaper headlines that had been praising the “Black Eight Miracle” two days ago now featured even more glaring titles.
[Los Angeles Sports News: End of a Miracle? Lakers Dynasty May Collapse Tonight!]
[Daily News: Trailing 0:2, historical data tells us the Lakers' chance of advancing is only 3.9%!]
Pessimism spread like a virus throughout the city.
The bus finally stopped at the player tunnel entrance.
The door opened.
Greeting them were no longer overwhelming cheers and screams.
But faces filled with worry and doubt.
Countless fans gathered on both sides of the tunnel, holding banners, their eyes complex.
“Lin! It's up to you tonight!”
“Kobe! We need you!”
These voices were no longer encouraging.
More like a drowning person's last plea.
The players lowered their heads and quickly entered the locker room.
“Bang!”
The locker room door was shut.
The atmosphere inside was even more solemn than on the bus.
The equipment manager silently distributed jerseys and protective gear.
The Team Doctor wrapped thick bandages on the veterans.
Everyone was silent, like a group of prisoners about to walk to the execution ground.
Veteran Steve Nash took a deep breath, trying to break the silence.
“Hey, guys.”
His voice was a little hoarse.
“Heads up!”
“This is Los Angeles! This is our home court!”
“We haven't lost yet! As long as the final whistle hasn't blown, we still have a chance!”
Nash's voice echoed in the empty locker room.
But no one responded to him.
Gasol leaned against the locker, his eyes hollow.
Howard irritably tore at the tape on his wristband.
The huge gap in talent was like an insurmountable mountain, weighing on everyone's hearts.
That feeling of powerlessness couldn't be easily dispelled by a few words of encouragement.
A hint of bitterness flashed across Nash's face.
He slumped back into his seat, powerless.
The locker room once again fell into a suffocating silence.
And Lin Feng.
He sat alone in the furthest corner.
He was not infected by this desperate atmosphere.
In his mind, the words of two people echoed again and again.
Kobe: “Get through it, and you are king. Fail, and everything you've done before will become a joke.”
Scarlett: “I see a Lion surrounded by two Cheetahs.”
King!
Lion!
He knew that in this battle, he could no longer fall into the madness of individual heroism like in Game 1.
He also understood that when the team's machine completely stalled.
He had to be the one to restart the machine in the toughest way!
...Pre-game warm-up.
At both ends of the court, there were two vastly different atmospheres.
On the Thunder's side.
Durant and Westbrook were laughing and chatting while practicing their shots.
Westbrook even got playful and started a half-court shooting game with Perkins.
Their expressions were incredibly relaxed.
As if this game was just a routine practice, a mere formality.
Victory was in their grasp.
Meanwhile, on the Lakers' side.
Everyone's face was filled with solemnity.
Their shooting motions seemed a bit stiff.
Staples Center was packed.
But the purple and gold sea was somewhat quiet.
All the fans' hearts were hanging.
They were afraid.
Afraid to witness the complete collapse of a dynasty.
“Beep—!”
The referee's whistle finally blew!
Western Conference Finals Game 3 officially began!
The Lakers got the first possession.
Nash dribbled the ball, slowly advancing.
The Lakers players strictly executed the tactics D'Antoni had arranged before the game.
Pass the ball!
Use more passes to tear apart the Thunder's defense!
The ball went from Nash's hands to Gasol's.
Gasol, at the high post, then dished the ball to Artest on the wing.
Once, twice, thrice... The ball kept circulating among the Lakers players.
However.
The Thunder, those young beasts, completely destroyed the Lakers' tactics with their abnormal, super athletic ability!
Their defensive rotation speed was too fast!
So fast that every pass by the Lakers became incredibly difficult!
Just as Artest was about to pass the ball back to Lin Feng!
A blue lightning bolt suddenly streaked past him!
Kevin Durant!
His terrifying, spider-like long arms accurately anticipated the pass!
Steal!
Durant completed the steal and immediately launched a fast break!
Like an elegant Cheetah, he covered half the court in a few strides!
Then, with a casual, gliding dunk, he scored the first points of the game!
0:2!
Next possession.
The Lakers still tried to play team basketball.
Nash and Howard executed a classic pick-and-roll.
But Ibaka's terrifying speed allowed him to switch defenses instantly, blocking Nash completely!
Nash's drive was completely sealed off!
He was forced to pass the ball to Nick Young on the perimeter.
Nick Young caught the ball and, facing Sefolosha's defense, forced a shot!
“Bang!”
The basketball bounced off the rim!
The rebound was easily collected by Westbrook!
The Thunder, once again, launched a fast break!
The entire court became their stage to display their talent!
Five whole minutes had passed since the start.
The numbers on the scoreboard made all Lakers fans feel a suffocating dread.
10:0!
The Lakers had not scored a single point!
The entire Staples Center fell into a deathly silence!
That purple and gold ocean, which once struck fear into all visiting teams.
Now, it was as quiet as a tomb.
“Beep—!”
D'Antoni finally called a timeout.
He walked to the sideline, his face ashen.
He picked up the tactics board, drew a few circles, then irritably wiped them all away with his hand!
Any tactic seemed ridiculous and powerless in the face of the Thunder's unreasonable talent dominance!
Finally.
He threw away the tactics board.
He turned around and looked at the number 24 figure, who was lowering his head and drinking water.
A thousand words ultimately converged into one look, full of despair and expectation.
It's up to you.
Lin Feng put down his water bottle.
He stood up.
His gaze swept past all his teammates and the coach.
And shot straight to the other end of the court.
The man in the number 35 jersey.
Kevin Durant.
At this moment, the Grim Reaper was looking back at him with a cold, reaper-like gaze.
After the timeout, Lin Feng took over the first offense.
He knew there was no turning back in this game.
Either he killed the opponent.
Or be killed by the opponent.
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