Chapter 117: Lover Of 100 Million People
“The game isn’t over yet!” Kidd said to the teammate beside him. “We still have the second half to play!”
This veteran who hit a buzzer-beating mid-range shot over Iverson showed no emotion whatsoever.
Xu Ling had always had a counterintuitive judgment: Kidd himself was someone who didn’t like communicating with people, but the point guard position was the one on the court that required the most communication.
It was like how you couldn’t imagine a jungler in an LOL game being mute the entire match, or expect a commander in an FPS team to stay silent while still hoping for good team coordination.
So, Kidd had to force himself to communicate, just like the stoic Stephen Chow in real life was completely unrecognizable in his comedies.
“But we have a big lead,” Xu Ling said.
Kidd responded: “This is a crazy team. They have the entire second half to come back. Don’t get careless.”
“You’re older, so you call the shots.”
Xu Ling’s words made Kidd raise an eyebrow. Why was this rookie always reminding him about his age?
Josh Howard on the side was noticeably quiet. As sparks flew between Xu Ling and Kidd, the chemistry between them skyrocketed, while Howard, who had specialized in defense and wing isolation on the forward line in Dallas, was struggling to find a comfortable role on the Grizzlies.
In terms of functionality, he was irreplaceable on defense, but that wasn’t enough.
For the Grizzlies, they upgraded Gay to Howard in a four-way trade, avoiding the mutually exclusive choice between Xu Ling and Gay. It looked like a huge win no matter how you sliced it, but for Howard, he had to adapt to this team that saw him as a Gay replacement.
They still hadn’t found a good way to do it.
The atmosphere at Pepsi Center grew tense and anxious. The 15-point lead was like a deep chasm between the Nuggets and victory. The home crowd hadn’t given up, cheering even more fervently to inject energy into their team.
The fifteen minutes in the locker room seemed to have cooled Anthony down. He removed the towel over his head, the anger burned into his face fading, replaced by a nearly numb calm.
George Karl abandoned complex tactical setups, his words simple and direct: “Get the ball to AI. Everyone else run, find open spots! Defense! Show your toughness! I don’t want to see anyone blown by again!”
At the start of the second half, the Nuggets’ offensive style changed abruptly.
Iverson was still the sharp knife, but his drives no longer always aimed solely for points. He attacked the basket more to draw help defense, then passed to open teammates on the outside.
JR Smith, the streaky shooter, stepped up first. He took Iverson’s kick-out pass and hit two straight three-pointers from the wing, reigniting the Pepsi Center.
“JR! Smith! He’s found his touch! The Nuggets aren’t giving up!” Commentator Kevin Harlan’s voice was filled with passion again.
“This is the basketball they should be playing,” Doug Collins analyzed. “Use AI’s gravity to create opportunities for other shooters. They need more players to step up.”
On defense, the Nuggets ramped up the intensity. Anthony seemed to channel all his negative emotions into defensive energy, sticking closer to Xu Ling with more aggressive physical confrontation to disrupt every catch and shot. Camby inside was like an awakened fierce beast, blocking shots from Darko Milicic and Warrick under the basket.
The Grizzlies’ offensive efficiency dropped, and the lead was slowly chipped away.
When the third quarter was halfway done, Iverson used a Camby screen for a mid-range pull-up jump shot, bringing the deficit back to single digits.
Pepsi Center erupted completely, the noise nearly lifting the roof.
The hope of a comeback was like oxygen in the thin high-altitude air—scarce, yet real.
Marc Iavaroni called timeout immediately. He needed to halt the Nuggets’ momentum.
During the timeout, Iavaroni emphasized defense and tactics, hoping the team would play more organized.
But a shooting slump couldn’t be fixed with just one timeout.
When the team created a shooting opportunity for Xu Ling through tactics, this superstar rookie who had dominated Anthony in the first half also missed his shot.
Luckily, Darko Milicic grabbed the offensive rebound and scored on the putback.
Xu Ling wasn’t the type to force shots to solve problems. Once he felt off, he’d attack the basket more.
The game’s tone turned into a tug-of-war.
The Nuggets clung to the score with Iverson’s individual ability and occasional sparks from role players, while the Grizzlies maintained a slim lead with more cohesive offense and solid defense.
And in this stalemate, a subtle shift was happening.
Perhaps the halftime cool-down worked, or maybe the positive feedback from smooth team offense helped—Anthony’s touch, after being quiet most of the game, started to return slowly.
Anthony at the right baseline caught Iverson’s pass and nailed a pull-up three. The moment it went in, he pumped his fist hard, as if expelling all the frustration in his chest.
Xu Ling immediately drove straight to the basket, hitting a tough 2+1 in front of Camby!
Anthony quickly called for the ball in the mid-post for a post-up. Facing Xu Ling’s defense, he didn’t opt for a tough fadeaway this time. Instead, he backed down firmly, spun, and finished with a delicate hook shot. The ball rattled on the rim twice before dropping through.
After two straight makes, he couldn’t hold back, trash-talking Xu Ling: “You can’t guard me, rookie! Never will!”
“Oh?” Xu Ling raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his tone. “So the first half was just your warm-up? Quite the thorough preparation.”
Anthony had no comeback; the truth cut like a knife.
It was near the end of the third quarter, and the Nuggets’ momentum seemed poised to turn into a comeback with Anthony’s resurgence.
Coincidentally, right then, Xu Ling and Anthony matched up again.
Anthony wanted payback from the first half; Xu Ling wanted to stop the Nuggets’ run.
After trash-talking in the backcourt, Xu Ling brought it up front, with Anthony lurking like a tiger.
Xu Ling didn’t call for it on the outside but cut straight to the basket. Kidd read it perfectly, delivering a precise bounce pass. Xu Ling caught and went, facing help defense from Camby. He soared fearlessly, euro-stepping in the air to avoid the block, and finished with a reverse layup.
Anthony took it for another post-up, but it wasn’t as smooth as before. Under Xu Ling’s sticky defense, he couldn’t create a good shot and settled for a forced spin fadeaway jumper.
“Bang!”
But in the final seconds of the third, the Grizzlies caught another chance.
Kidd grabbed the defensive rebound and, before landing, flung it upcourt. Josh Howard raced ahead for a fast-break slam dunk.
The lead was back to double digits.
Xu Ling stopped and nodded seriously at Anthony: “Thanks for your efforts. Our fast-break training has been very effective.”
Anthony went silent. Before regaining the lead, he didn’t want to engage this rookie anymore.
The Nuggets adjusted quickly, not letting Anthony fall back into isolation mode for personal gain.
To start the fourth, Iverson drove for a 2+1, then assisted J.R. Smith for an outside three. The Grizzlies responded with Xu Ling drawing defense for an assist, and Kidd hit an open three.
Even way down, the Nuggets showed no signs of collapse. It was a resilient team—underrated despite no one believing they could win it all.
Iverson seemed oblivious to the feud between Xu Ling and Anthony, delivering his best game in this high-profile matchup.
For a moment, it felt like the early 2000s.
In 2001, Iverson did what Mr. Zhan did in 2018: leading a seemingly unremarkable lineup through the playoffs to the Finals. Unlike the much-maligned Thanos legend, Iverson actually beat the peak OK Lakers in one game on that juggernaut—that was their only playoff loss that year.
But that early-2000s hero, seven years later, had faded. He was traded, abandoned, and now paired with Anthony—but they were a mismatched couple with no chemistry.
Only on nights when Anthony couldn’t deliver could Iverson be himself. When he was on, you glimpsed that hero again.
It was because of Iverson that the game reached the final three minutes.
The Nuggets closed the gap to 7 points again.
105-98
Kidd had just missed a three, giving the Nuggets possession—this was their prime chance to close in again.
Naturally, the ball went to red-hot Iverson. Facing Kidd, he ripped off crossover dribbles, feeling the rhythm.
Amid chants of “AI! AI!”, Iverson pump-faked the gather. Kidd’s center of gravity rose slightly, and in that split second, Iverson exploded past to his right.
Iverson attacked the paint, facing help from Darko Milicic. He leaped full throttle, setting up a layup.
But at his peak, just as he was about to slam it home, a blue figure flew in from the side—none other than Xu Ling!
Xu Ling leaped high behind Iverson, his long arms like wings, swatting the ball precisely as Iverson held it with both hands!
“Swat!”
A clean, almost brutal chase-down block!
Xu Ling swatted the basketball far away. It bounced hard on the floor and was picked up by trailing Kidd.
“Eli’s block!!! He blocked AI’s layup!!” Kevin Harlan shouted in shock. “Unbelievable defense!”
Kidd pushed the fast break, quickly passing to trailing Xu Ling.
Iverson chased back desperately, blocking Xu Ling alone.
The veteran gave his last gasp, arms wide, clinging tightly to Xu Ling.
One pass and the Grizzlies would have an open shot.
But Xu Ling didn’t. He ignored weakside Josh Howard and Kidd’s signal to pass back.
Time seemed to slow. The whole arena held its breath.
Facing Iverson, Xu Ling used no extra fakes—just a simple yet explosive crossover dribble, center of gravity low, shoulders nearly parallel to the floor.
Iverson slid desperately, but his stamina and age showed—his feet couldn’t keep up!
It evoked Iverson’s rookie-year duel with Jordan: same spot, same generational clash. Xu Ling went left to right, then back left with two jab steps, shaking open a clear gap in Iverson’s defense. The rhythm was mesmerizing. Before the old hero recovered, the young No. 1 rose up.
Xu Ling leaned back slightly in the air and released!
Iverson leaped to contest, but his fingertips were worlds away from the ball.
The ball arced through the air like a generational torch being passed across time.
“Splash!”
The great Iverson remained great today, but he’d been caught—and would soon be left behind, like the summer of 2001 fading away.
Do you miss him?
Or do you miss those times?
The roar—not for you—”Unbelievable!!! Eli! Just like AI against MJ back then! He shook AI and hit the jump shot! This might seal it for that Memphis kid!”—Kevin Harlan’s scream wrapped the game in history’s weight.
After the make, Xu Ling looked at Iverson, who had steadied himself, gasping heavily, eyes full of exhaustion, reluctance, and a hint of daze.
“You’re a damn troublemaker!”
Iverson grumbled finally.
Hearing this, Xu Ling showed no contempt or arrogance. He stopped and said: “Answer: I’m honored to be your trouble.”
This possession was the final blow to the Nuggets. The Denver crowd deflated, unable to mount another threat till the end. The Grizzlies won a key away game, beating a playoff rival and closing their gap to Western Conference Eighth to just 0.5 games.
