The visiting team’s locker room at the US Airways Center wasn’t as bad as the one the Celtics had, but it was by no means good. There were no partitions between the players’ seats, just a single row of benches attached to the lockers. During halftime, twenty-odd people rushed back and forth, with jerseys and shoes strewn everywhere. The mess was comparable to a high school locker room.
But everyone was long used to it and went about their own business.
Yao Ming sat down in his spot, next to Kobe, who was getting his legs massaged by a physical therapist.
Typically, rookies were expected to sit next to the team’s star player. The polite way to put it was that they were there to "learn from the team leader." The blunt truth was they were there to "serve the team leader."
This was a bit of gossip his translator, Rekton, had shared with him in private.
Fortunately, Kobe hadn’t made any unreasonable demands. In the few days they’d been around each other, Yao Ming had also noticed that Kobe was very quiet in the locker room, barely interacting with his teammates.
For example, right now, he was just sitting there silently, eyes closed, mentally preparing himself.
Yao Ming fiddled with the red string on his wrist, his heart heavy.
Before coming to the NBA, Yao Ming had contacted Bartel and Wang Zhizhi to talk about the challenges of adapting. He had mentally prepared himself to face difficulties, but now that he was actually on the court, he never expected reality to be so cruel.
Back in China, he was dominant, averaging nearly 30 points and 20 rebounds a game. He’d never imagined his performance could be this terrible.
’Not a single point!’
Yao Ming rubbed his face in frustration. When he looked up, he saw Jackson standing in front of him.
"Yao, I’m still going to put you in for the second half. I know this is hard, but you have to adapt to the NBA’s rhythm as quickly as possible. Also, when you’re on the court, you need to play smarter. Use your agility, expand your range of movement."
"You’re tall and you have great court vision, which is an advantage for passing. Your role isn’t just to go head-to-head with their center under the basket; you need to do more."
Jackson pulled over a folding chair and began to explain seriously.
The reason he valued Yao Ming so highly and was willing to invest so much effort in developing him was not just Yao Ming’s raw talent. It was also because, in Jackson’s mind, Yao Ming was a perfect fit for his triangle offense.
That was his signature, after all!
Although there were times when even Jackson himself couldn’t quite articulate what the "perfect" triangle offense looked like, that didn’t stop it from being the crowning achievement of his coaching career.
The triangle offense required an inside pivot who could pass the ball out, work with the players on the wing and perimeter, set screens, and still pose a significant threat under the basket.
O’Neal was certainly a threat, but expecting him to pass the ball or set effective screens was just wishful thinking.
Even someone with a reputation as great as Jackson’s couldn’t make O’Neal do that.
Fortunately, O’Neal was so dominant that he didn’t really need the triangle offense.
So during their two consecutive championships, the Lakers had only one strategy: give the ball to O’Neal. If that didn’t work, give it to Kobe. If that still didn’t work, then give it back to O’Neal.
But Yao Ming was different. In Jackson’s mind, he had the tools to be the foundation of his triangle offense and become Kobe’s perfect partner.
Plus, he was a rookie, not difficult to manage like O’Neal. He was, in a word, perfect.
That’s why he was willing to go to all this trouble, to spend the energy to guide Yao Ming. Otherwise, why would a head coach of his stature have the time or patience to explain so much to a rookie, even if he was the number one pick?
After all, Kwame Brown got chewed out by Jordan every day on the Wizards.
After Rekton finished translating, Jackson saw that Yao Ming still had a lost look on his face and asked again, "Yao, are you feeling lost on the court because you’re not familiar enough with the team’s plays?"
Yao Ming paused for a moment, then subconsciously said, "That... well, I do feel..."
Before he could finish, he suddenly noticed Jackson looking at him with a strange expression.
And the originally noisy locker room had suddenly fallen silent.
"That...?" Yao Ming looked at everyone, completely baffled, with no idea what was happening.
Kobe’s eyes snapped open. He grabbed Yao Ming’s shoulders, leaned in, and asked sternly, "What did you just say?"
Teammates a few feet away also turned to look at Yao Ming, their gazes menacing.
Rekton’s face went pale with fright. He quickly stood up and explained, "Guys, Yao didn’t mean it like that! In Chinese, the word he used—it means ’that’! It’s just a filler word. He absolutely did not mean what you think!"
He explained anxiously.
Jackson also stood up, his expression serious as he said to the room, "Everyone, you’re overthinking it. Get back to what you were doing."
Only then did the players slowly look away.
Kobe patted Yao Ming’s shoulder and said in a stern tone, "Yao, don’t say that word again."
Yao Ming was completely stunned. ’What did I even say to cause such a huge reaction?’
Rekton quickly squatted down and leaned in to whisper an explanation in his ear.
Yao Ming’s expression changed. He said hurriedly, "Then hurry up and tell them I didn’t mean it like that!"
In the past few days, he had barely spoken with his teammates. He never expected such a misunderstanding to happen in his very first game.
"Alright, Yao, it was just a misunderstanding. It’s not important." Jackson waved his hand, not wanting to get bogged down by such a minor issue. He simply grabbed a tactical board and started drawing to show Yao Ming what he needed to do.
Yao Ming wasn’t stupid; on the contrary, he was a player with a high basketball IQ. Looking at the tactical board, he gradually began to understand what Jackson meant.
But understanding was one thing; when he took the court again in the second half, Yao Ming still looked completely out of sorts.
His positioning was always a step slow, and there was no chemistry to speak of with his teammates.
On top of that, Yao Ming also failed to play to his strengths.
He was hesitant to shoot and out of position for rebounds. The one time he matched up against O’Neal, O’Neal showed no mercy. When Hardaway made a bounce pass across the paint, he took one step and leaped, throwing down a thunderous dunk right over Yao Ming’s head.
The ferocity of it was like a gale wind savaging a fragile sapling.
At the broadcast table, Barkley grinned exaggeratedly, then slammed the table and roared, "See that? I told you! He can’t play! He doesn’t deserve to be the number one pick at all!"
This was a nationally televised game, with millions of people watching. Barkley’s words were, without a doubt, the harshest condemnation of Yao Ming.
After landing, O’Neal even gave a little shoulder shimmy and ran off with a smug, punchable look on his face.
Without a word, Jackson immediately subbed Yao Ming out of the game.
Barkley spoke up again: "Look, Phil has already lost patience with him."
It was a good thing Jackson couldn’t hear him, or he might have felt like kicking Barkley. He was trying to protect Yao Ming.
Yao Ming walked off the court, dejected. Other than Jackson, not a single teammate came over to console him.
Normally on the team, only Olajuwon, who had been asked by Jackson to mentor him, would talk to him much.
"Yao, don’t take it to heart. You’re just a rookie. A performance like this is normal," Rekton said, coming up behind him to console him.
Yao Ming nodded with a bitter smile, a sour feeling in his heart.
It would be a lie to say he hadn’t fantasized about coming to the NBA, dominating the league, and becoming a superstar.
But now, all those beautiful dreams had been shattered by cold, hard reality.
Yao Ming looked up and scanned the arena.
They were playing away from home. If this had been a home game, he felt like the fans would have started booing him long ago.
Yao Ming’s struggles were just a microcosm of the Lakers’ problems in this game. Even without factoring in Yao Ming, the Lakers were having a hard time stopping the Suns.
"Phil, the Suns are really strong," Kurt Rambis said, standing next to Jackson with a grim expression.
Jackson folded his arms, his eyes filled with worry.
’This Phoenix Suns lineup really is strong.’
Their frontcourt of O’Neal and McDyess was formidable, especially McDyess.
In Jackson’s memory, he was just a pseudo-all-star with explosive athleticism who had padded his stats on a weak team.
But watching him now, Jackson suddenly realized McDyess actually had the potential to be an elite defensive role player.
He had a great sense of positioning. Leveraging his outstanding athleticism, his defensive coverage was immense. He could protect the rim, play help defense, and even move around the paint to set screens for the perimeter players.
He could even follow Horry out to the three-point line.
Finally, when O’Neal got double-teamed, he could also provide a reliable mid-range jumper.
A power forward like that, if he was willing to sacrifice personal stats to complement O’Neal, could only be described as O’Neal’s most perfect frontcourt partner.
Jackson thought back to the Suns’ frontcourt from last season.
When Olajuwon had played the power forward spot, his role was actually quite similar to McDyess’s, except Olajuwon’s passing was better.
But McDyess had the advantage of being younger and more athletic, and O’Neal’s threat under the basket far surpassed that of an aging, late-career Ewing.
A frontcourt combination like that was top-tier in the league.
Then there was the backcourt.
Looking at the Suns’ backcourt gave Jackson a headache.
Last season, the Suns’ backcourt was one of the best in the league, and a key reason was their height.
A 201cm Marion and Hardaway, plus a 193cm J Kidd—that height alone was enough to give many teams’ backcourts a tough time. Not to mention, J Kidd was a top-tier perimeter defender, and Marion was famous for his freakishly long arms.
Now J Kidd had been traded away, replaced by the 203cm James Posey. Their backcourt height hadn’t decreased; it had actually increased.
And Posey’s wingspan was even more ridiculous, reaching 219cm.
With a wingspan like that, he was a beast on perimeter defense.
Kobe’s low shooting percentage in this game had a lot to do with him.
And what was even more of a headache was that last season, every team in the league was worried about how to deal with O’Neal. Now, the tables had turned, and it was his turn to worry about that problem.
"It’s okay. As long as Yao develops, we have a chance," Jackson said aloud, though it was unclear if he was genuinely confident or just trying to reassure himself.
As for the current game, Jackson glanced at the score and felt it was already a lost cause.
With five minutes left in the fourth quarter, Jackson took the initiative and subbed out his starters, effectively surrendering.
The deficit was already 17 points; there was no way to come back.
In the press box, Su Jun couldn’t help but sigh. "This is insane. They’ve maintained the lead the entire time, just completely manhandling the Lakers. The Lakers have really declined."
The Lakers of the past two years were so strong they made the whole league despair. And now, they were being completely thrashed by the Suns.
Beside him, Zhang Weiping had a complicated expression. He nodded and said, "That’s right. The skill gap is pretty big. And I get the feeling the Suns aren’t even playing at full strength."
The Suns were clearly limiting O’Neal’s playing time.
And Hardaway had completely abandoned the unstoppable, aggressive scoring style he used in last season’s playoffs, focusing instead on passing and organizing the offense.
But even so, O’Neal was already 9 for 14 from the field, and including free throws, he had easily and efficiently dropped 26 points in just 27 minutes.
Meanwhile, Hardaway had quietly put up 16 points and 8 assists.
In last season’s playoffs, Hardaway had been averaging over 30 points per game.
This meant that the two of them weren’t even going all out, and the Lakers still couldn’t handle them.
"By the way, has O’Neal only missed one free throw this game?" Su Jun said suddenly, seeing Brian Shaw step up to the free-throw line.
If he remembered correctly, O’Neal had gone to the line 8 times and actually made 7 of them—a scarily high percentage.

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