Chapter 86: Thank You, Big Guy
Mark Iavaroni walked to the sidelines with a serious expression. Halftime ended, only trailing by 3 points.
Facing a bloodthirsty Kobe, this should have been a result worth celebrating.
But he couldn’t relax at all.
Looking at the scoreboard, Iavaroni knew deep down that they might be drifting further from the basketball he initially envisioned. He once dreamed of transplanting Phoenix’s league-sweeping “Seven Seconds or Less” offense to Memphis.
How wonderful was that fluid, unrestrained, storm-like suffocating offense?
But now he had to admit that this team might never play that kind of basketball.
And this had nothing to do with whether they had Steve Nash.
A team’s system is rooted in its core. Xu Ling isn’t an absolute possession devourer like Kobe, but he’s also not the selfless offensive player in the SSOL system who settles for off-ball movement, quick cuts, and catch-and-shoot. He needs rhythm, needs to read, needs to hold the ball and control the situation—even if just for two seconds. His playing style is smart and efficient, yet it naturally and inevitably creates its own rhythm.
Iavaroni was torn inside: he knew Xu Ling’s value better than anyone—this young man was delivering a 26+6+6 halftime stat line under Kobe’s fury, almost single-handedly dragging the team to stay close in the score. But on the other hand, he couldn’t ignore that hint of regret in his heart: Xu Ling was great, even too great, great enough that he was destined not to be “a piece of the system.”
He wasn’t the wind above the water, but the river itself.
Powerful, yet only surging in his own direction.
Just like a Japanese movie with a serene literary cover, once the protagonist is Tabyama Masahiro’s face, you know it absolutely won’t be the film you initially expected.
Of course, we can’t make this judgment for Tabyama Masahiro’s fans; the actor in the example could be anyone you’ve blocked, friend, you get my point.
Iavaroni walked to the locker room door and opened it, and Xu Ling’s voice came through immediately.
“They want us to get chaotic, want us to run with their rhythm.” Xu Ling wiped his sweat with a towel. “But we won’t let them have it. Stick to our style, grind it out play by play. Kyle,” Xu Ling looked at Lowry, “bring the ball over halfcourt and give it to me, you go to the corner, ready for catch-and-shoot or cut anytime.”
“Pau,” Xu Ling turned to Gasol, “you set a pick and roll with me at the high post. If Andrew doesn’t come out, you take a mid-range shot; if he does, you roll, and I’ll find you.”
“As for defense.” Xu Ling paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone. “Kobe’s on me. You just guard your man and grab every damn rebound! Tell them, this is Memphis!”
So Iavaroni didn’t need to say anything; he just needed to follow the Sixty Million Dollar Man’s intent and clarify the team’s play style: give him the ball.
Iavaroni had no objections.
The second half tip-off sounded, and both teams switched sides to resume play. Kobe’s eyes were even colder than in the first half, like a black mamba that had been slightly offended and decided no more toying with its prey. On his first possession, he backed down Xu Ling at the left wing and called for the ball.
Fisher’s pass was pinpoint accurate. Kobe caught it, feeling Xu Ling’s defensive center of gravity on his back, powered through two strong post-ups, then without warning spun baseline for an extreme fadeaway jumper!
“Swish!”
63 to 58
Kobe asked coldly: “How many times do you think you can answer me?”
“As many times as it takes.” Xu Ling replied promptly.
Hearing this, Kobe let out another sarcastic cold snort. He no longer saw Xu Ling as a rookie overhyped beyond his skills; though still green in many ways, he was already quite threatening, and Kobe needed to go all out to suppress him.
Xu Ling dribbled over halfcourt, and Kobe immediately stuck to him.
That unexpected ultra-long three-pointer from the first half was enough to make the Lakers extremely wary of his range.
“Through this game so far, we can say Eli and Kobe are even; for a rookie, this is a great feat!”
“Exactly, and it’s precisely because Eli withstood the pressure from Kobe that the Grizzlies didn’t collapse under the Lakers’ first-half offensive push!”
Harlan and Collins bantered back and forth, their words ultimately falling on Xu Ling and Kobe.
Would they battle on? Could they keep going? Could a winner finally be decided?
Xu Ling didn’t rush into offense; he steadily controlled the ball outside the three-point line, observing Kobe’s defensive stance.
Kobe lowered his center of gravity, his outstretched hands nearly covering all of Xu Ling’s driving lanes.
Time ticked away second by second.
Suddenly, Xu Ling moved!
He exploded with a quick crossover dribble, his right foot stomping the floor hard, feinting a drive to the right; Kobe’s center of gravity instinctively shifted right by half a step.
In that instant, Xu Ling pulled the ball back quickly, behind-the-back dribble to his left hand, his whole body like a fully drawn bow, flashing through the gap on Kobe’s left!
The explosiveness and speed of that step far exceeded Kobe’s expectations; by the time he twisted back to chase, Xu Ling was already half a body ahead, driving straight to the basket!
Bynum at the basket immediately came over to help defend, like a high wall blocking Xu Ling’s path.
In a flash, Xu Ling didn’t slow down at all, but at the moment of takeoff, he gently slipped the ball under Bynum’s armpit.
The ball went to the unguarded Pau Gasol!
The Spaniard hesitated visibly when he caught it, as if he hadn’t expected Xu Ling to see him in that situation. But muscle memory took over; he finished at the basket with a bank shot.
FedEx Forum cheered for every spectacular moment from Xu Ling; their roar drowned out Gasol.
The Spaniard was dazed for a moment and couldn’t help looking at Xu Ling. But Xu Ling acted like nothing happened, already backpedaling quickly on defense and clapping loudly: “Defense! Let’s hold this one!”
Gasol couldn’t believe he was being inspired by a rookie with less than half a year in the league.
“Yeah, shut them down!”
Gasol shouted out too.
Kobe’s eyes grew sharper; he called for the ball again, this time facing up with consecutive crossover steps and shoulder fakes so realistic they were dizzying, but Xu Ling held his breath, not fully fooled, always staying in front of Kobe.
With little time left on the shot clock, Kobe forced up a fadeaway jumper.
Xu Ling jumped fully to contest, turning the strong shot into an airball.
When a player who’s been hitting unreasonable shots finally looks like he’s regressing to the mean, you have to cheer for your relentless effort.
Xu Ling turned back, and Gasol had already grabbed the defensive rebound, passing it to Xu Ling.
Clearly, the Spaniard’s energy seemed much more active than in the first half; whatever change had come over him, it was a good thing.
Gasol’s vitality was back, like those muted teammates in FPS games who go radio silent for half the match and suddenly start calling out aggressively: “Eli, I’ll set a pick and roll for you; Andrew can’t stop your drive!”
“Let’s do it!” Xu Ling responded loudly.
Xu Ling pushed forward to the frontcourt, with Kobe pressing up quickly. Xu Ling didn’t hesitate, waving Gasol over for a screen.
The Spaniard’s solid screen blocked Kobe; Xu Ling shook free instantly, and switching onto him was Bynum, who had been dominant inside tonight.
But this was a prime small-on-big opportunity!
Xu Ling chained quick crossover dribbles, rhythm unpredictable; Bynum’s tall frame looked clumsy, swaying to Xu Ling’s tempo.
Suddenly, Xu Ling pump-faked a pull-up jumper; Bynum bit and jumped, only to realize it was a fake move, while Xu Ling ducked low and blew past the leaping Bynum for a flying layup.
62 to 63
The Grizzlies cut the deficit to just 2 points.
Xu Ling turned to face the furious Kobe and said softly: “Bring all your tricks; don’t disappoint me.”
If the purpose of trash talk is to anger the opponent, then Xu Ling had undoubtedly succeeded.
Next possession, Kobe came back strong; using Odom’s screen to create half a step of separation from Xu Ling, he caught and drained a pull-up three.
“Rookie, can your defense be half as good as your trash talk?!”
Kobe fired back immediately after the bucket.
The arena air was thick with a scream-inducing competitive atmosphere: the world’s best player going all-out against the rookie of the year, yet still no guaranteed victory—the game wasn’t over, the executioner’s axe hadn’t fallen, nothing was certain.
At this stage of the game, the off-court noise no longer mattered: Eagle County’s debate, Nike and Adidas hype, fans’ spitting matches, even Roderick Craig the fuse that started World War III—all paled compared to one response play from Xu Ling.
Xu Ling lowered his center of gravity, dribbling rhythm unpredictable.
Kobe was steady as a rock, eyes blazing, unmoved by the shakes.
Suddenly, Xu Ling slashed right with a sharp crossover dribble. Kobe slid over quickly to stick, their bodies colliding hard, the thud of muscle-on-muscle reaching the front row.
But Xu Ling leaned into Kobe, dribbling into two steps inside the three-point line: sudden stop, fake gather, feint jump—the combo seamless!
Kobe didn’t bite, just raised his arm high to blank the space.
But it was an ultra-realistic Buddha shake fake! Xu Ling instantly reset his center of gravity, arrowing past Kobe’s left into the paint!
Helping Bynum rose like a tower, completely walling off the rim!
In the nick of time, Xu Ling showed no fear, leaping high, euro-stepping to evade the block, switching to his left hand mid-air with insane core strength in a near-contorted pose to float the ball.
The basketball banked off the glass, bounced twice, and rolled into the net!
“Beep!”
The referee’s whistle blew, pointing decisively at Bynum for a defensive foul!
“And One!”
Xu Ling’s teammates roared in excitement.
“Bullshit! I didn’t touch him!” Bynum exploded instantly, flailing at the referee. “Are you blind? I didn’t foul!”
Bynum kept raging relentlessly; his outburst so sudden even Kobe couldn’t stop him before he charged the ref, spittle nearly hitting his face. This overreaction drew another sharp whistle! The ref signaled “T” without hesitation—technical foul!
Xu Ling jumped up from the floor, clapped hard, and taunted the losing-it Bynum loudly: “Thanks, big man, keep it up!”
Bynum went fully berserk, howling and nearly lunging at the ref like prepping for an octagon fight. Crucial moment: Kobe rushed in, yanking him back and snapping: “Calm down! You’re not a rookie anymore—don’t let that bastard number one show you up!”
Bynum looked wronged, still arguing: “But I didn’t foul!”
Kobe cut him off bluntly: “Shut the fuck up with that bullshit!”
