Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters

When the final whistle blew, Yu Fei slowly stood up and high-fived each of his teammates on the court one by one.

109 to 84

The Bucks easily won the first game of the semifinals.

Although it was only the first game of this series, some series only need one game to test the strength of both sides.

The Bucks showed a clearly superior strength to the 76ers during the game.

The 76ers could neither counter with tactics nor had the lineup to restrict the Bucks' offense.

As soon as the game ended, Larry Brown headed toward George Karl.

Despite it being just the first game, Brown knew their chances of winning were slim.

Approaching Karl, Brown offered his congratulations: "You guys are better this year than you were the year before last."

The Bucks had lost to the 76ers in the Eastern Conference Finals the year before last, but to be frank, they were only a trick short of winning.

Brown's comment that this year's Bucks were better held a deeper meaning that Karl didn't immediately grasp.

Karl just felt that this usually serious senior had become a bit emotional tonight.

"I think we're still far off," Karl didn't take Brown's words to heart and glanced at the key player of the game with his peripheral vision, "after all, the playoffs' success often depends on a few people."

Brown possessed absolute rationality and coldness when it came to basketball.

All he needed was a team that functioned like an extension of his arm, but his experiences working with Allen Iverson made him feel that Phil Jackson was definitely not like Red Auerbach described—merely picking up ready-made super teams.

Restraining a superstar was a difficult task.

Larry Brown had had enough of the torment brought by superstars in Philadelphia.

Following Karl's gaze towards Yu Fei, who was sharing "post-game thoughts" with Iverson, Brown quietly said: "George, it's your responsibility to set that kid on the right path."

Karl just smiled and remained silent; he was already trying very hard.

But the truth was, he was willing to share all his knowledge, but Yu Fei might not be willing to humbly accept the lessons.

He was an arrogant millennial, possibly the most promising one Karl had ever seen, and such genius could not possibly be as docile and obedient as a sheep.

"I'm trying," Karl said with self-deprecation, "though I'm not sure if it will be of any use in the end."

"It will be," Brown had a favorable impression of Yu Fei, which could be a case of absence making the heart grow fonder, "My gut tells me he's not like AI, who is impervious to advice."

Hearing that, George Karl squinted his eyes at Brown for a moment.

"What's up?"

"Nothing, I just suddenly thought of how stubborn you are..." Karl chuckled, "You're almost the same."

Suddenly, Karl found all the similarities between Brown and Iverson.

They were both raised by single mothers. Both were the shortest guys on the court, relying on their big hearts and a desire to succeed—Brown would frequently collapse on the court so that now he wore a prosthetic joint in his hip, whereas Iverson charged and leaped, both seemingly racing toward the same fate. They were both extremely sensitive, where a harsh word or expression could cause them deep pain.

This was the reason they tormented each other, and also why, despite knowing they couldn't coexist, they still bickered and quarreled for six years.

The relationship between Yu Fei and Iverson didn't seem as close as that between the mentor and mentee duo Karl and Brown.

Due to the publicity stunt of the Reebok rivalry, both Yu Fei and Iverson took to the court intending to outdo the other.

As a result, Yu Fei won in terms of overall performance, but Iverson still managed to score a game-high 44 points with 35 shots.

"Coach Brown didn't have an issue with you taking so many shots?"

Yu Fei asked with schadenfreude.

Iverson said, "No, he knows I want to win."

With Iverson's shooting percentage that night, he dared to take 35 shots under the guise of "wanting to win," and he thought Brown wouldn't blame him for it.

Yu Fei had nothing to say, since Iverson definitely knew Brown better.

"So, see you the day after tomorrow," Yu Fei said.

Iverson stubbornly replied, "We'll win then."

It was a powerless trash talk.

Yu Fei really couldn't see any chance for the 76ers to win the semifinals; offensively, they couldn't match the Bucks.

Defensively, without Mutombo, the 76ers were left with just the skeleton of their runner-up season. A team lacking a top-tier shot blocker could not possibly have a good defense unless, like the Bulls Dynasty, it possessed two DPOY-caliber forwards/guards. That wasn't the case for the 76ers.

The 76ers were missing everything, which was why Yu Fei wasn't optimistic about them.

At that night's press conference, a reporter asked Yu Fei if there was anyone on the 76ers who had made an impression on him.

Yu Fei said, "AI's number of shots was impressive."

"Yes, AI scored a game-high 44 points tonight. Next game, how do you plan to limit him?"

"We don't need to limit him. An AI that takes wild shots can't lead Philadelphia to victory. If he continues to play like that, I think we can start studying our next-round opponents early."

Now that things had come to this, the reporters, who enjoyed stirring the pot, couldn't help but ask further: "Who do you hope to face in the next round?"

"Of course, the team that eliminated me in the first round last year."

Yu Fei's comments were somewhat offensive to the 76ers.

However, the second game of the semifinals was won even more easily than the first.

The Bucks had to deal with Iverson's offense in the first game, but in the second, AI's magic was no more.

Ironically, when Iverson was limited to 28 points, the 76ers' offense actually became more lively.

Van Horn and Aaron McGee both scored in double figures.

But the problem with the 76ers was that it was tough to win without Iverson in gear, and when he was, they easily fell into a trap of endless solo plays.

Since they won the second game so easily, even Karl was talking about potential opponents in the Eastern Conference Finals after the game.

"If I had to choose a team to be our opponent in the Eastern Conference Finals, I'd choose the New Jersey Nets," said Karl, "because we have a perfect record against them in the regular season."

Karl, who had lost himself in pride, was quickly sanctioned by the League.

The Bucks headed to an away game the very next day.

When Karl saw the referee roster for the third game of the semi-finals, his face turned immediately grim.

"What's wrong?"

The players were training at the time, and someone noticed Karl's expression was off.

Karl handed the list with the referee names to Chief Assistant Coach Ron Adams.

Upon seeing it, Adams's expression turned just as dark.

"Even if they had zombies officiate tonight, you guys wouldn't need to be this tense, right?"

Fei cracked a little joke.

Karl was not amused that he was still in a mood for jokes: "That joke isn't funny. You guys had better prepare for tonight's game as if it were Game 7 of the Finals."

Fei replied, "Sorry, can't do that."

Karl: ?

Fei justified his response, "I've never played in the Finals, let alone a Game 7 of the playoffs, so I can't really prepare for that."

Mason, who finally saw an opportunity to sharply jab at Fei, said smugly: "Oh boy, there are times when even you lack experience? In your eyes, you're the boss, and God comes second, and yet you haven't even played in the Finals?"

"Have you played?" Fei asked knowingly.

"I have," Mason said, puffing himself up. "Not only have I played, but I've also made it to Game 7 of the Finals."

"And? You lost, right?"

Fei hadn't expected someone to actually bite when he was just fishing for a response.

"Why are you silent?" Seeing Mason's face turn red, Fei felt even more confident, "I'm telling you, old man, you've really made something of yourself. You play in the NBA for so many years, manage to make it to the Finals once and even to a Game 7, and yet you couldn't secure the championship? Isn't that the ultimate busywork?"

"You freaking don't understand anything at all!" Mason stomped in frustration, then started to weakly retort with phrases like, "Win or lose is just part of the game," "It's all Ewing's fault I did my best," and "What could I do when Olajuwon was unstoppable?" The air was filled with a spirit of mirth.

Yet, George Karl's expression remained somber.

Fei had to ask, "George, who exactly is tonight's head referee?"

At the mention, Karl's face twisted with anger. It seemed the name sprung from between his clenched teeth, utterly cold: "Dick Bavetta."

After two seasons, Fei was pretty familiar with the faces of all the referees.

Bavetta was among the most peculiar ones, known for favoring the Lakers, and yet this referee, infamous for his blatant bias toward the Lakers, was allowed to officiate the Western Conference Finals last year.

The dreadful Game 6 between the Lakers and the Kings was completed under his very supervision.

Some serious commentators believed that, from that game on, the NBA officially entered the WWE era.

Bavetta certainly made a name for himself from that battle.

Fei also solidified his impression of Bavetta through that game, but judging by Karl's expression, things seemed more complicated.

"George, is there a story between you two?" Fei asked.

Karl replied with his own question: "Do you think last year's Western Conference Finals were terrible?"

If Karl was referring to Game 6 of last year's Western Conference Finals, that was indeed terrifying, but that was about it. It was similar to Game 4 of the 2017 Finals in that regard.

The difference was one told you "don't even think about winning" in the fourth quarter, while the other informed you from the get-go, "you can't win tonight."

"Terrible," Fei went along with Karl's statement.

Karl said, "What if I told you something even more terrible happened ten years ago?"

Then, George Karl shared the story of the 1993 Western Conference Finals.

That year's conference finals pitted Karl's SuperSonics against Barkley's Suns, culminating in a Game 7. It seemed as though a cosmic force was intent on making season MVP Barkley and the league's ruler Jordan clash for three hundred rounds in the Finals, rendering the SuperSonics' advancement to the Finals less exciting.

Consequently, the Suns received 64 free throws in that decisive Game 7 of the Western Conference Finals, with several of the SuperSonics' key big men including Kemp fouling out.
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Amid such a game where a foul was called at the slightest contact, Barkley played 46 minutes and refused to come out, leaving behind the famous words, "I have plenty of time to rest when I'm dead."

Naturally, the SuperSonics lost the series.

And the head referee for that match was none other than Dick Bavetta.

Karl looked at Fei, "Our series with Philadelphia has good TV ratings. Trust me, the League would like to see this series go an extra game or two. Dick Bavetta doesn't come bearing good intent, we need to be ready."

Fei didn't have such intense PTSD about Bavetta as Karl did, since Iverson and the referees never had a great relationship. Even if Bavetta came with a mission, at most he might give the 76ers some favorable calls, like those extreme situations in last year's Western Conference Finals Game 6 and the 1993 Western Conference Finals Game 7 were unlikely to happen.

Even if they did, so what? Fei's goal was to sweep the 76ers, not only to give the team more time to prepare for the Eastern Conference Finals but also to edge ahead in the MVP battle with Duncan and Kidd.

Thus, whether the whistle was biased toward the 76ers or not, they had to be defeated.