Chapter 38: I Mean, It’s All Over
Ty Lawson’s performance began to fluctuate, so North Carolina chose to go inside.
It was one thing that Brandon Wright couldn’t handle Xu Ling, but it was impossible that he couldn’t handle Daryl Dora, right? This judgment was completely fine, provided Wright was in normal condition.
But Wright’s condition was not normal, and Xu Ling’s subsequent influence was still troubling him.
Dora just pushed hard against him, and Wright found it hard to shove him away, so he chose a casual fadeaway jumper.
This was probably the thing Dora was most willing to see.
If Wright was determined to drive inside, Dora would have a hard time stopping him, but if he chose to shoot, it was all about luck.
Wright’s luck was terrible today.
The shot missed, the rebound was protected by TTU, followed by a fast break.
After several such possessions, Wright’s presence grew thinner and thinner, and North Carolina surprisingly could only rely on Hansbrough’s barbarian style to attack inside.
North Carolina’s head coach Roy Williams finally couldn’t sit calmly like an old monk watching anymore, and quickly called a timeout, subbing in Danny Green for Brandon Wright.
Green came on as the power forward in a small lineup, and as a famous filler in college league, this task was no problem for him.
The game thus entered a tense tug-of-war.
TTU with Xu Ling as the core, fully utilized their outside firepower, driving the inside through the perimeter. On North Carolina’s side, since Lawson couldn’t perform freely in front of Xu Ling, his game influence dropped significantly, but the Tar Heels with overflowing talent could still cling to the game with individual player abilities even without reliable tactics.
As North Carolina’s soul figure, Tyler Hansbrough stepped up when the team needed him most.
Tyler Hansbrough charged into the paint like an enraged bull. His blond hair soaked with sweat, flashing a fierce sheen under the lights, every positioning like nailing TTU’s white center Jon Plevka into the floor.
“Come on!”
Hansbrough roared for position, his back pushing against Plevka’s chest, forcefully shoving back this white shooter whose physical strength was far inferior to his own.
Lawson’s pass hung perfectly inside, and the instant Hansbrough caught it, he spun fiercely, his shoulder slamming heavily into Plevka’s ribs. Accompanied by a thud and the referee’s silence, he bulldozed to the basket like a rusty tractor, smashing the ball in with his right hand.
Plevka rubbed his reddened chest, his gaze toward the scoreboard filled with despair.
This North Carolina No. 4 had scored over him multiple times in a row—a back-to-the-basket hook shot, an offensive rebound putback, and this brutal power drive.
Hansbrough didn’t even bother with fake moves, every possession clearly declaring: I’m bulldozing through here!
“This is the strength of the All-American team!” Dan Shulman shouted at the top of his lungs. “When North Carolina needs to solve it tough, they can always count on Hansbrough’s muscle basketball!”
Knight on the sideline felt deeply helpless; Plevka was a tough inside player, but the Hansbrough opposite him was his super deluxe version.
Moreover, they couldn’t hand Hansbrough to Xu Ling on defense due to position and size differences, meaning TTU’s inside had to handle this beast themselves.
When Hansbrough demanded position low again, Xu Ling had to leave his man for help defense—but this played right into North Carolina’s hands, as Hansbrough seemed to anticipate it, passing to the cutting Lawson, who easily laid it in.
“See that, rookie?” Hansbrough trash-talked Xu Ling while backpedaling. “That’s how you play basketball. I never throw darts from outside!”
This scene got Jordan in the stands hyped.
He couldn’t help but imagine, if Hansbrough entered the draft this year, he had to take this guy. A fighter this crazy and combative was a no-miss.
Xu Ling felt for the first time what it meant to be running ragged.
In past games against other teams, he usually just needed to handle one or two players to lay the foundation for victory, but North Carolina had too many cards: super rookie, ace guard, dominant inside, versatile role players.
Whatever, whoever steps up, hammer them hard.
With that thought, Xu Ling suddenly raised up, calling for Plevka’s pick and roll, and Hansbrough excitedly switched with a ha.
The two most influential players in the game matched up as the first half was about to end.
“That trash can’t stop me!” Hansbrough provocatively taunted. “Neither can you!”
Xu Ling suddenly accelerated, his left-hand dribble whipping past Hansbrough’s side like a whip. As the opponent stumbled to recover, he pulled up at the free-throw line, the fadeaway jumper arcing impossibly high—the basketball swished through the net just as Hansbrough’s hand belatedly swatted his wrist.
“Beep!!!!!!”
The referee’s whistle pierced sharply.
“Swish!”
“And one!!!”
Xu Ling said nonchalantly: “ACC’s best inside? Looks like a moron.”
This was the prelude to the full war between Xu Ling and Hansbrough.
Hansbrough wildly attacked inside, and every time he scored, Xu Ling responded in the next possession.
The stars’ energy burned like wildfire, rapidly heating up the atmosphere in the San Jose HP Pavilion, but just like that eternal Nietzsche quote that’s been overused:
You gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazes back at you.
So, who would ultimately fall in?
In the first half, both sides showed all their signature moves with little reservation, and both teams basically exposed their winning formulas.
TTU’s chance lay in the perimeter, in whether Xu Ling could maintain his first-half touch in the second half, while North Carolina needed to find a stable set play offense.
North Carolina couldn’t break the zone defense at all; most offense so far came from star individual abilities, with Ty Lawson and Hansbrough taking over in turns, but individual power couldn’t decide everything.
The more team-oriented TTU entered the second half with a 45-40 lead.
Aside from Jordan and his blatantly biased fan group, the on-site NBA executives’ view of Xu Ling had converged.
Before facing North Carolina, they saw Xu Ling as a strong top-five draft pick contender, but if teams with top-five picks didn’t urgently need perimeter players, the classic “ancestral law can’t be abandoned” scenario might play out—maybe Xu Ling was better, but the NBA always chooses inside over perimeter between the two, and this draft class had the most inside talent in a decade.
But now, after North Carolina’s swarming, Xu Ling still delivered a stunning performance: 20 points, 8 rebounds, 4 assists in the half, not only overshadowing the eliminated Durant, but even eclipsing Ohio State University’s Greg Oden’s shine.
The SuperSonics’ general manager Sam Presti could almost tell his colleagues: if they drew the third pick soon, as long as Xu Ling had a passable tryout in Seattle, he would select him without hesitation.
However, this was just an immediate thought; college performances have instant impact and misleading allure, and NBA execs often cool off by draft night months later, re-obsessing over that beautiful but rarely realized talent.
“Eli.”
Knight’s voice sounded especially low in the cramped locker room, all noise instantly vanishing. He didn’t look at anyone else.
“You’re the only reason we’re still standing here.” Knight paused, then took a small step forward, voice even lower: “Now, tell me. Can I trust you? When they throw everything at you in the second half to tear you apart, can you still lead this team?”
Xu Ling felt his teammates’ gazes focused on him, heavy expectations almost tangible.
“If needed…”
“Then we’re done!”
Knight’s voice suddenly rose, cutting off Xu Ling, but not a roar this time, rather an anxious, urgent rebuttal, like stopping him from stepping into a trap.
“If you’re thinking ‘I need 20 points to win,’ then we’re fucking done! That’s exactly what they’re waiting for!”
Xu Ling froze, swallowing his unspoken words. He looked at Knight, realizing the coach saw far deeper than he did.
Knight took a deep breath, stepping up almost face-to-face with Xu Ling: “Roy Williams, that old fox, maybe no new tricks, but he’s not dumb! He’ll use two, three, even four guys to swarm you! Because he knows better than anyone—strangle you, and you strangle us.”
The locker room air seemed to freeze, only heavy breathing audible.
In this suffocating silence, Xu Ling’s gaze slowly swept over every teammate—seeing trust, anxiety, and some urgent fighting spirit in their eyes.
He looked back at Knight, knowing it was time to show resolve; he knew what Knight wanted him to say.
“Then let them come.” Xu Ling said unequivocally. “Perfect timing to remind them of basketball’s oldest truth since its birth—this game is always five against five.”
After the second half started, things unfolded exactly as Knight predicted.
Whenever Xu Ling received the ball on the perimeter, his matchup Danny Green would double-team him with nearby North Carolina players.
The prepared Xu Ling always passed to open teammates just before the double team fully formed.
The Tar Heels believed in talent, because their first national championship under Roy Williams relied on unsolvable talent.
That was 2005 North Carolina, a team so talent-laden that Marvin Williams, the No. 2 pick that year entering the NBA, came off the bench. To manage such a talented roster, Roy Williams put in massive work; their faith in talent trumped all basketball theory.
This made them believe that without Xu Ling scoring, TTU would die on the spot.
So, Allen Voskuil stepped up and hit an outside three-pointer.
Hansbrough demanded the ball low, backing down Plevka hard. The thud of muscle collision cut through the noise, Plevka retreating step by step but holding position at the last moment. Xu Ling timely helped, forcing Hansbrough into a fadeaway—the ball clanged off the back rim.
Jackson grabbed the rebound, Xu Ling already accelerating. North Carolina’s transition was half a beat slow; Jackson’s long pass found the streaking Xu Ling, who faked out the chasing Green and easily laid it in.
The Tar Heels grew restless.
They knew things were bad; if locking down Xu Ling alone meant unleashing TTU’s others, what was the point of locking him down?
Roy Williams held steady, clearly thinking it wasn’t dire enough yet; North Carolina could still score with talent.
Hansbrough hit a fadeaway jumper.
Then Lawson capitalized on TTU’s perimeter miss for a fast break, but Xu Ling drew defense to assist Julius Jackson for a three.
North Carolina grew more anxious, defensive intensity spiking.
Danny Green quickly accumulated fouls from over-aggressive defense.
Ten minutes into the second half, Green’s fouls reached four; he started hesitating, and Xu Ling decisively attacked him with the ball.
Green got blown by because he wouldn’t contest.
The thoroughly marginalized second-half Brandon Wright stood in Xu Ling’s drive path.
He was flashed by Xu Ling, utterly ineffective.
Xu Ling leaped up, baiting Hansbrough’s help before assisting Plevka for a midrange jumper.
This made TTU’s lead stretch to 11.
Just one possession without a double and Xu Ling capitalized, driving North Carolina’s defense even madder.
Wayne Ellington answered with a three, like adrenaline, just as North Carolina fans’ cheers rose…
Xu Ling had already moved.
Danny Green’s stance was glued to the floor; he didn’t even get hands up before Xu Ling blew by. Hansbrough scrambled for help, but it was too late.
“Damn Chinese guy!”
Hansbrough’s roar mixed with the arena noise.
In the aerial battle instant, Xu Ling’s body was like a fully drawn bow. He protected the ball tightly with his right, but at the peak suddenly pulled it back, the ball arcing down his waist to his left hand. Hansbrough’s arm flailed futilely, only watching the orange blur slip past his fingertips.
“Swish!”
“OMG!” Dan Shulman exclaimed from the broadcast booth. “Eli recreated MJ’s 1991 Finals aerial crossover!”
As the scoreboard ticked, North Carolina’s bench was dead silent. Green stood frozen, staring at his shaking hands, while Hansbrough’s mind went blank.
Until Xu Ling’s words hit like cold wind: “Your defense looks moronic, your talk sounds moronic, but don’t let that fool you. You are a genuine moron.”
Jordan watched the big-screen replay in stunned silence.
He’d recounted that 1991 crossover layup countless times in different settings, but deep down didn’t think much of it, since his career had at least twenty harder ones.
But now, with Xu Ling recreating it in North Carolina’s home court, Jordan smelled familiar blood—the despair in the air when a hunter lands the killing blow. Hansbrough’s dazed eyes, Green’s trembling hands, the arena’s sudden freeze, all reminded him of Magic Johnson’s fleeting shock back then.
Were they done for?
No, Michael, not yet, at least not now.
North Carolina’s counter came weakly and rushed. Their three-pointer flew like a kite with cut strings, slamming the front rim. The moment Xu Ling leaped for the rebound, North Carolina’s defense froze like paused. Like an unsheathed sword, he drove straight to their gut with the ball, shaking it to trailing Jackson after drawing a triple team.
“Swish!”
Three made, lead to 13.
Under six minutes left, Roy Williams called timeout, abandoning the double on Xu Ling, ordering full-court press on opponents—time was short, their last gasp.
After timeout, North Carolina pushed the pace.
Wright screened and popped for the ball; despite missing every shot tonight, he felt the responsibility and shot decisively, though teammates held no hope.
Bang!
It was like destiny: Xu Ling alertly dropped back, snagged the defensive rebound, but on the turn, three North Carolina players swarmed all paths like a blue tide—Lawson front, Green left, Ellington right, their full-court press trapping him in the corner.
Battle-hardened fast-break drills and a year of chemistry with Jackson overrode thought. Xu Ling didn’t hesitate—not even looking up, pure instinct and trust—he fired the ball like a cannon to the frontcourt!
Empty there, but he believed Jackson was running.
The basketball tore through North Carolina’s defense, spanning half the court. The instant it left his hands, Xu Ling himself bullet-trained forward.
Jackson didn’t disappoint, sprinting in position to save it inbounds just before going out, relaying to Xu Ling at midcourt. North Carolina’s defense collapsed from the two end-to-end passes, only Brandon Wright holding the paint, guarding the last line.
Xu Ling became red lightning, splitting to the basket. Wright in the paint’s center, feet nailed down, could only watch the figure descend.
He held perfect defensive position, yet felt like standing on tracks facing an oncoming train.
From midcourt to free-throw line, Xu Ling took three steps. His dribble rhythm like war drums, each pounding Wright’s taut nerves. When Xu Ling gathered and rose, Wright reflex-jumped but instantly regretted—body unprepared, leap height way short.
Chapel Hill’s championship banners, arena rafters’ retired legend jerseys, all became the final straw crushing Wright. His defensive arm rose weakly like a white flag of surrender. The instant bodies collided midair, the stronger crushed the weaker.
Boom!!!!!!!!
Xu Ling hammered the basketball like a meteor into the rim.
Amid the rim’s shaking, Wright crumpled backward like a marionette with cut strings. The last sight as his back hit the floor was Xu Ling hanging on the rim.
“OH MY GOD!!! Eli Xu destroyed North Carolina! He ran over Brandon Wright! Look at that dunk! Look at Wright on the floor! Ladies and gentlemen, this is a massacre!”
“That’s brutal!” Dick Vitale screamed. “Brandon Wright shouldn’t have jumped! He looked like a scared rookie! Eli completely destroyed his defensive will! Rewind—remember what Wright said pregame? Eli’s overhyped? He’d destroy Eli? TTU’s the only non-elite in the Elite Eight?”
“In college basketball history, has there been worse trash talk fallout?”
“It’s over.”
“I mean,” Jordan muttered expressionlessly, “it’s really over.”
Because deep down, they were just students—strong, talent-filled, but not winners; they lacked the winner’s mentality, let alone how to recover from this.
Look at Tyler Hansbrough, then Ty Lawson—did they have any fight left?
Who caused this shit situation?
Jordan glared with disgust at Brandon Wright.
But with victory decided, time to drop the alma mater support and properly assess this legendary TTU Jordan.
The Bobcats were a tanking team; in years since formation, though they’d developed versatile Gerald Wallace, the gamble on Adam Morrison a year ago was near failure—they still hadn’t drafted a reliable franchise core.
Jordan smelled a familiar scent on Xu Ling.
Thinking this, Jordan eyed the NBA execs in the row ahead.
Tonight would likely boost Xu Ling’s stock again, possibly locking top five.
At that, deeper irritation surged.
His Bobcats were stuck awkwardly this year: good enough not to tank fully, far from playoffs; bad enough not to win big, tiny chance at top-five pick.
Jordan spat inwardly.
The GOAT suddenly realized flying here for this game had zero smooth moments from start to finish.
The Tar Heels’ morale collapsed.
Though Roy Williams finally ditched his no-timeout habit at the end, a crumbling team couldn’t be fixed with timeouts.
Texas Tech University rode the momentum, raining threes from outside with scary accuracy, snuffing North Carolina’s last hope.
This most-watched Elite Eight final in the pod ended most shockingly: 101-76.
The pregame total underdog Texas Tech Red Raiders crushed ACC champion University of North Carolina, becoming the NCAA tournament’s Western Conference champion and reaching the Final Four for the first time in school history.
Post-game interview
Brandon Wright was sent to the hospital with an ankle injury and unavailable for interview.
Tyler Hansbrough was blunt: “I congratulate TTU. Eli was even better than rumored. Tonight we got schooled and learned a big lesson. No matter who you are, always keep a learner’s heart. Otherwise, the master will knock you down until you can’t get up.”
Roy Williams refused to comment on his timeout issues or decision mistakes, playing it safe with reporters—praising the team that beat you is foolproof: “I think Eli is the NCAA Rookie of the Year. I sincerely believe Oden and Durant couldn’t match his performance tonight against us.”
Bob Knight was somewhat calm about returning to the Final Four after twenty years: “I’m not saying I’m not excited, I just know our journey isn’t over. I want a national championship; no one judges greatness by Final Four appearances.”
Talking about Xu Ling got Knight way more excited.
“When we evaluate a great player, we always say don’t judge by stats alone. But talking tonight’s Eli, you can’t ignore them—he played all 40 minutes, 34 points, 12 rebounds, 10 assists. I’ve coached college games for 40 years. I really don’t think I’ve seen better.”
ESPN post-game interview transcript
Reporter smilingly hands the microphone: “Eli, first time playing all 40 minutes in your college career—how’s it feel?”
Xu Ling expressionless: “Yeah, I guess.”
Light laughter from the crowd.
Reporter follows up: “We noticed lots of ‘interaction’ on court with Hansbrough—care to share what you exchanged?”
Xu Ling’s mouth quirks up: “Secret.”
Reporter persists: “Not even a little?”
Xu Ling shakes head: “Afraid not.”
Reporter: “Then let’s talk Brandon Wright—what’s your take on his performance tonight?”
Xu Ling suddenly stares into the camera, eyes bright: “A day has 24 hours, an hour 60 minutes. Whenever I want, I can explode him anytime, anywhere. That said, I still appreciate his effort tonight—though not much effort. Truth is, I don’t want to waste breath on the ‘Elite Eight’s only non-elite player’.”
But he sure talked a lot about him, didn’t he.
