Sports Medicine Master System
Chapter 800: Chapter 718: After All, He’s the Star Player
When you ask a player to do something beyond his abilities, there are only two possible outcomes.
Either he has a sudden burst of inspiration and pulls it off brilliantly.
Or, he does an even worse job, failing to even complete his original assignment.
And more often than not, it’s the latter.
In the second half, Jackson placed a greater demand on Artest, asking him to help defend Nowitzki and rotate over in time to provide cover.
For Artest, this was asking the impossible.
He was a single-track mind. If you told him who to guard, he would pounce like a ravenous wolf and tear off a chunk of flesh.
That’s why his one-on-one defense was elite.
But asking him to play help defense—to look both ways, worry about the positioning of the man he was supposed to cover, a multi-threaded task—was more than he could handle.
He began to be frequently out of position, leaving his man open.
And his mistakes were like the first domino, causing the Lakers’ entire frontcourt defense to collapse.
Double-teaming is always a double-edged sword. Even if you successfully shut down your opponent, you’re bound to leave someone open.
And the person left open was Marion, who was no slouch on offense.
Most importantly, Artest’s help defense was truly awful.
Nowitzki started shooting more after pick-and-rolls, and Artest’s ability to fight through screens was terrible.
As a result, Jackson could do nothing but stand on the sideline and stew, completely out of options.
He couldn’t even get angry at Artest, because this was just how Artest was.
The key was, he had no one else he could put in.
Nowitzki was so tall, and his ability to punish mismatches was so strong, that really, no one but himself could affect his offense.
The only silver lining for Jackson was that while Kobe was getting double-teamed and struggling to score, Yao Ming was still providing steady output, and Fisher had also stepped up a few times, hitting threes to keep the Lakers’ hopes alive.
Otherwise, the Lakers would have collapsed long ago.
By this point, Jackson was actually no longer concerned with winning or losing this particular game.
Winning would be great, of course, but if they lost, that was fine too.
The series had only just begun, after all.
What Jackson needed to solve now was how to defend Nowitzki.
Just imagine: when you can’t effectively contain your opponent’s primary offensive weapon, it’s nothing short of a disaster.
No one knew what was going through Jackson’s mind.
But in the eyes of the media and the Lakers fans in attendance, Jackson looked like a corpse, just watching as the Lakers sank into a quagmire without making any adjustments.
On the sideline, a sunglasses-clad Jack Nicholson grew so anxious he couldn’t help but leap to his feet, waving his arms at Jackson and yelling, "Do something!"
Jackson remained impassive, merely folding his arms tighter as he watched the third quarter end with the point differential widening to 12.
He watched as the Lakers mounted several comeback attempts in the fourth quarter, only to struggle and fail to close the gap.
Finally, even Kobe got frustrated.
He stopped passing, chucking up a shot at the slightest opportunity.
Meanwhile, the Phoenix Suns remained steady as a rock, running their simplest plays: setting all kinds of screens, distributing the ball, and creating one-on-one opportunities for Nowitzki off the ball.
As the clock hit zero, the game ended amidst the frustrated sighs of the entire arena.
to 90.
The Phoenix Suns routed the Lakers by 13 points.
Countless members of the media on the sideline muttered that they couldn’t believe what they were seeing, all turning to look at Jackson, who stood as still as a statue.
Throughout the entire game, Jackson had been completely invisible, failing to make a single adjustment when his team desperately needed one.
This was the playoffs.
It was a stage for the stars, but it was also a stage for head coaches to showcase their strategic brilliance.
"Phil."
Lambis tapped Jackson on the shoulder, snapping him out of his trance.
"Let’s go."
Jackson’s expression was terrifyingly grim.
At the post-game press conference, he was inevitably bombarded by reporters.
On a stage as big as Los Angeles, the media was naturally just as demanding as the fans.
What happened to being unbeatable in the West? To having only one real rival? To being destined to win the championship and revive a dynasty? And this was the result? This?
A blowout loss at home, letting Nowitzki explode for 41 points?
They had even prepared press releases for a huge Lakers win, ready to mock the Phoenix Suns for their self-inflicted wounds and collapsing dynasty.
After all, the Phoenix media had mocked them the same way in previous years.
Now, all of that was scrap.
Jackson couldn’t care less about any of that. He dismissed the reporters with a few brief words, returned to the locker room, and called all his assistant coaches in for a meeting.
"Phil, aren’t we going to watch the tape?" Lambis asked.
The plan had been for all the players to watch the game replay together.
Jackson shook his head. If anyone was going to watch it, it would be the coaching staff. There was no point in making the players watch it now.
In the conference room, Jackson and his five assistant coaches sat together, watching the game replay.
They had just over 40 hours to come up with a plan to deal with Nowitzki.
"Let’s hear it," Jackson said in a low voice.
The men in the room exchanged glances before Frank Hambledon spoke up. "Phil, the way the Phoenix Suns play is just shameless."
After watching the game, Hambledon’s only thought was that the Phoenix Suns were so damn shameless.
The Lakers were still, for the most part, running the triangle offense.
Kobe was comfortable as the number one option, and Yao Ming, never one to compete for the spotlight, was content to be the second-in-command.
And the triangle offense, when you boiled it down, was actually quite simple: an initiator, a facilitator, and a finisher.
Fisher was the initiator.
Yao Ming and Odom were the facilitators.
This was especially true for Yao Ming, who was genuinely willing to serve the team, running all sorts of routes and setting screens.
The finisher, then, was naturally Kobe.
And then there was Artest, the blockhead who, after an entire season, still had no clue what the triangle offense was. But that didn’t affect the system’s execution in the slightest.
That’s how Kobe averaged 35 points per game and was crowned the scoring champion.
But how did the Phoenix Suns play it?
They didn’t care about off-ball movement or facilitation. They focused on one thing: as soon as Kobe got the ball, they sent a double-team.
As for leaving Artest or Fisher wide open? They couldn’t care less.
They were fixated on one thing: do not let Kobe score, no matter what.
Kobe’s one-on-one skills were strong, and his ability to break double-teams was strong too, but against the mindless double-teaming from Marion and Poseidon, even he was helpless.
That’s why Hambledon said the Phoenix Suns’ approach was shameless—a classic ’kill a thousand enemies to lose eight hundred of your own’ strategy.
"So, Phil, we need Ron and Derek to shoot more decisively. They didn’t play well today. Ron missed at least three wide-open shots."
"If we can fix that, I think we can win."
Brian Shaw, sitting next to him, nodded in agreement. "If the Phoenix Suns play like this again next game, we should demand that Kobe moves the ball faster. He can’t hold onto it."
When Kobe was double-teamed in this game, his decision-making wasn’t good. He was slow to pass, still thinking he could take them on himself.
Especially toward the end of the game, Kobe got completely desperate, and his shot selection became very irrational.
Seeing all eyes on him, Jackson shook his head without hesitation. "That’s not possible."
"Look at Ron’s shooting percentage. It’s not low, so it’s not a matter of him missing open shots."
That’s just Artest’s level. He’s going to miss some shots even when he’s wide open.
"The Suns’ help and switching on defense is excellent. They aren’t just mindlessly double-teaming like you all are saying."
"Marion comes over to double, and Artest gets a lot of open looks, yes. But sometimes Hardaway closes out on him too."
But the Suns’ overall defensive rotations are incredibly precise.
"For example, when Marion rushes to double Kobe, Nowitzki is consciously keeping an eye on Artest. The moment Kobe passes, Nowitzki immediately closes out on him."
Nowitzki is as agile as a guard; he’s not slow at all.
"Clearly, the Phoenix Suns have been drilling this intentionally, which is why their switches and rotations are so timely."
"And even if the closeout is late, when a big, tall guy comes flying at you and jumps, it’s enough to disrupt your shot."
Artest really isn’t the kind of cold-blooded shooter who gets hot with the slightest bit of daylight.
There was one more thing that Jackson didn’t say.
’Expecting Kobe to pass the ball quicker and not hold onto it? That’s just bullshit.’
’That’s Kobe we’re talking about!’
’With his personality, what was Jackson supposed to do? Run over and have a heart-to-heart? Tell him, "The Phoenix Suns are targeting you, so for the good of the team, I need you to attack less and pass to your teammates more"?’
’Kobe would never think, "You’re right, it’s my fault. I need to sacrifice for the good of the team."’
’He would definitely think, "I’m the fucking superstar, the leader of this team. You want me to pass to a bunch of role players? Can they even make the shot?"’
’As for me not scoring, that’s purely because the passes to me aren’t good enough. You, as the head coach, should be figuring out how to create better shooting space and one-on-one opportunities for me, not telling me to stop attacking.’
’Attack or die!’
Jackson knew Kobe all too well. This was absolutely how Kobe’s mind worked.
So even though he knew Kobe was getting double-teamed and forcing irrational shots, Jackson had no choice but to let him play.
What could he do? He was the star.

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