Chapter 134: That’s No Joke
Amid the commotion created by Xu Ling, people overlooked the person the Hornets least wanted to lose to the Grizzlies: Byron Scott, the Hornets head coach at the time.
Of course, who would want to lose to a playoffs opponent?
However, beneath this natural desire to win, Scott harbored some personal grudges, just like everyone who undergoes breast augmentation surgery tries every way to cover up the scar under their armpit; Scott too had a wound he was unwilling to uncover.
When the players came off the court, Scott’s gaze lingered for a moment on the Grizzlies’ No. 5.
As human society was about to bid farewell to the 20th century, someone predicted the world would collapse at the first midnight of 2000. Among all the apocalyptic imaginings at the time, the Y2K bug was probably the gentlest one. Now everyone knows it was just selling panic, but once upon a time, it was a crisis sense that felt close at hand.
Just like that Nets team that rose at the turn of the century, the soul of that team was Jason Kidd and Byron Scott.
They were once a near-perfect basketball duo. One was the commander, the other the mentor. Scott had publicly called Kidd “the brain I trust most on the court”; and Kidd had said more than once in press conferences: “The coach lets me play freely; he understands the rhythm I want.”
They often ate together, watched video, and stayed after training to practice an extra hour. In the 2001-02 season, the Nets leaped from Eastern Conference doormat to Finals team—that was when their relationship was closest. Scott was almost like a proud father in front of the media, while Kidd was like the son perfectly executing his father’s vision.
The Nets, like everyone else, dodged the Y2K bug but couldn’t dodge the collapse it promised.
A few years later, when the team grew fatigued after years of failed title chases, Scott remained that smiling, gentle, ritualistic coach, while Kidd became increasingly cold and silent. He no longer responded to the coach’s glances or attended team meetings. He began publicly criticizing Scott’s coaching style, his tactics, his rotations—everything as a coach.
Ultimately, Kidd demanded the team fire Scott, or he would request a trade.
In professional sports, friction between stars and coaches often results in the coach being the one to leave. Scott left the place where his coaching career had soared and came to New Orleans, where he met another genius guard. He believed this kid was different from Kidd.
Now, destiny brought Scott and Kidd together again, but their positions were no longer the same as back then. Scott was a favorite for Coach of the Year, in the best phase of his coaching career, while 35-year-old Kidd was toiling for 20-year-old Eli Xu. They were in the positions best suited to themselves, determined to defeat each other on this stage.
“Calm down! Everyone calm down!” Scott’s voice overpowered the arena noise. “We started well—keep our rhythm. Morris, forget those possessions; you have no problem!”
Then, Scott looked at Pau like an old father: “C.P., Kidd is good at defense, but he can’t keep up with you anymore.”
Pau was so smart, he got it instantly.
Timeout over. Although Scott hoped Pau would actively attack Kidd on offense, Pau had his own ideas.
He wasn’t the type of player eager to unleash individual offense firepower. After a few dribbles up court, he directly lobbed the ball to David West in the left low post.
West post-up Hakim Warrick, spun for a jump shot and missed.
But Tyson Chandler ferociously grabbed the offensive rebound and passed it directly to Pau on the outside.
In just an instant, Pau accelerated past Kidd, but his layup charging to the basket was disrupted by Darko Milicic and missed again.
However, Darko Milicic’s help defense cost him rebound position. Chandler muscled everyone and tipped in this precious second offensive rebound, passing back to Pau.
Pau didn’t force it but calmly passed to completely open Peja on the outside, who nailed the three-pointer with a quick release.
8 to 10
Kidd dribbled across half-court, held up two fingers, and the Grizzlies players immediately began off-ball movement.
Xu Ling tried to cut out through the screen again, but Morris Peterson had clearly been instructed by the coach and defended with reckless abandon, using hands and feet, leveraging home court advantage to apply fierce pressure.
Kidd couldn’t find a good passing opportunity to Xu Ling, flicked his wrist, and gave the ball to Josh Howard asking for it at the elbow.
Howard, facing Peja’s defense, used footwork and physique advantage to force a spin jump shot—the ball bounced on the rim twice and ultimately rimmed out.
Chandler beastily secured the defensive rebound and shouted loudly: “Bury these Memphis bastards!”
The Grizzlies retreated quickly on defense; the Hornets couldn’t push for fast break. Pau had to steadily control the game, executing their signature half-court offense. This time, he directly had Chandler set a high pick and roll.
Kidd fought hard over the screen, but Pau used that instant gap for a rhythm change, drove to the free-throw line, drew Howard’s help defense, and calmly passed to open Peja in the corner.
Peja had just caught the ball, not yet shot, when Xu Ling closed in like a magnet.
Peja felt the ball lighten in his hands—it had been stripped by an external force. He turned in shock and saw only Xu Ling’s blue silhouette accelerating like a leopard, scooping up the deflected basketball and pushing forward at full speed.
“Steal! Eli Xu! He disrupted the Hornets’ offense!” Kevin Harlan’s voice instantly rose.
Xu Ling led the charge, with only Chris Pau chasing full speed behind him. Pau’s speed wasn’t slow, but Xu Ling’s stride was longer, his driving force stronger! The two charged into the paint one after the other. Xu Ling showed no slowdown, stepping on the edge of the restricted area and leaping full force, fully extending in the air.
Pau leaped right after, trying to contest from the side-rear. But against absolute height and bounce advantage, his effort was futile.
Xu Ling ignored the interference at his side, raised the basketball with one arm as if pouring all his power into it, and slammed the ball viciously toward the rim.
Then, head referee Dick Bavetta didn’t give the home crowd any face and called a defensive foul.
That’s 2+1!
Familiar boos came from all directions.
Pau looked innocently at Bavetta, while Bavetta, the head referee who personally officiated the blackest game in NBA history, had a look of “don’t talk nonsense with me” arrogance.
Xu Ling landed, inertia carrying him forward a few steps. He steadied himself, glanced back at the landed Pau, and said lightly: “Chris, that line of mine wasn’t a joke.”
Pau responded: “I know.”
A sense of mutual competition naturally emerged.
Pau had a good feeling toward Xu Ling; in their three regular season matchups, each had wins and losses, and Pau had never clashed with Xu Ling like others had.
Xu Ling rarely initiated friendliness but generally didn’t stir trouble either, so through a few exchanges and All-Star Weekend teamwork, they naturally became friends.
But this friendship was fragile—once playoffs arrived, once they had to set aside those courtesies and tear into each other.
Xu Ling nailed the free throw: Grizzlies led 11-10 again.
Pau finally fulfilled Byron Scott’s wish. Facing Kidd, he unleashed consecutive big crossover dribbles—for him, shaking a 35-year-old’s creaky legs was a small matter; the subsequent jump shot was the key.
“Swish!”
Pau answered with a response shot.
He growled: “Lock them down!”
Then Kidd didn’t even touch the ball; Xu Ling picked it up and tossed it to Darko Milicic, signaling to inbound directly to him.
Darko Milicic of course complied.
Kidd watched from the side, Josh Howard stared from afar—what could they do when their 20-year-old young core decided to make them step aside and watch him battle Pau?
Xu Ling came to the frontcourt, facing Peterson at the ready.
Xu Ling chained crossover dribbles; Peterson didn’t dare slack, tightly watching Xu Ling’s shoulders and feet.
Suddenly, Xu Ling’s ultra-quick ball-gathering fake move—Peterson didn’t jump, but his center of gravity lifted. In that instant, Xu Ling accelerated full speed from the right side.
Peterson desperately shuffled sideways but had lost the initiative; he was pushed back half a step by Xu Ling, then lost his entire position.
Xu Ling pulled up for a jump shot a few steps behind Peterson—pure swish.
“Eli Xu again! He’s got 8 straight points! Completely unstoppable!” Kevin Harlan exclaimed. “Morris Peterson has no answer for him!”
Doug Collins added: “Worst of all, Morris Peterson looks completely confidence-less! Eli is doing whatever he wants to him—he has no solutions at all!”
Then Pau used a screen for a decisive mid-range jump shot.
The two young cores in their first playoffs suddenly took over the game.
But the Grizzlies’ morale was fully up—even without Xu Ling asking for the ball, Kidd sought him out.
Xu Ling ran continuous screens and finally got a tiny gap in the left corner. Kidd’s pass arrived instantly.
Xu Ling caught it; Peja had switched onto him. Not a great shot, but he pulled up directly for a three-point shot.
“Bang!”
Peja’s height disrupted Xu Ling, but Kidd grabbed the long rebound. Kidd simply used Xu Ling as bait and shoved it inside.
Darko Milicic laid it in at the basket.
The game from there entered full white-hot intensity.
Pau ramped up individual attacks, using speed and rhythm to constantly attack the basket, creating opportunities for teammates while maintaining his own offense. The Hornets tightened defense on Xu Ling, but Xu Ling’s presence itself had gravity—the more effort opponents put on him, the more Kidd could use him as a lever to pry open the entire defense system.
Ultimately, Kidd ignited Darko Milicic’s inside offense and incidentally gave Josh Howard scoring chances in the first quarter’s second half—their scoring indirectly eased Xu Ling’s offensive pressure.
By quarter’s end, Hornets home fans suddenly realized: though Pau isolated Kidd easily, Chandler dominated inside, and David West owned Warrick handily, they hadn’t gained the edge.
Because the Grizzlies’ wings completely crushed the Hornets’ wings.
Josh Howard’s shooting wasn’t as precise as Peja’s, but he was the most balanced wing on both offense and defense in this series. After Peja hit early shots, his touch cooled quickly with tighter defense; Howard gradually took over both ends with his all-around game.
As for Morris Peterson, he was completely exploded by Xu Ling.
The Grizzlies’ comprehensive advantage at the 2-3 spots let them flip the script as road team, leading the Hornets 28-25 after the first quarter.
