Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters

Karl glanced at Yu Fei out of the corner of his eye, who was drinking Gatorade.

"Frye, do you need to rest?" Karl asked.

Yu Fei said, "Duncan is more tired than I am."

Karl understood.

Yu Fei was going to continue playing, which meant the Bucks were gambling everything.

Even though they still had the security of a seventh game, now was the time to lay all their bets. The Spurs were more experienced, Duncan had a greater impact on both offense and defense, and if the suspense lasted until the seventh game, would Yu Fei, having exhausted his energy tonight, be able to maintain the same state in the seventh game?

It was hard to say if the Bucks, lacking experience and never tested like this in the playoffs before, would collapse under the pressure of a championship Game 7.

The Spurs were seeking a miraculous comeback, but weren't the Bucks also fighting a desperate battle? The risks of a Game 7 were uncontrollable; mustering all their strength to finish the fight in Game 6 was the best outcome.

The Bucks started the fourth quarter with a lineup of Yu Fei, Redd, Sprewell, Ratner, and Gadzuric.

This wasn't the Bucks' starting lineup because Ray Allen wasn't playing well, and Mason had too many fouls. On the Spurs side, they too did not bring back their starting lineup, delaying the final showdown to the last half of the quarter.

The lineups weren't complete, but the intensity of the defense, the fierceness of the confrontation, and the efforts to shut down the core players still existed.

Yu Fei wrestled with his opponents even without the ball, and he was double-teamed when he got it.

Duncan, too, faced the defense of two or three players each time he had the ball.

In such situations, teammates had to relieve the pressure on them.

If someone from either side suddenly got hot and made consecutive shots, they could potentially take the game away.

But, unfortunately, everyone was as if they were in hell.

Then, on the Spurs side, Stephen Jackson stepped up.

Subsequently, the Bucks also had their surprise performer; as soon as Jackson got going, Michael Redd quickly countered right after Yu Fei drew the firepower away, scoring 10 points within five minutes.

74 to 73.

The Bucks took the lead.

Duncan received the ball in the middle, hurriedly shot amid the crowd, and missed.

However, David Robinson swooped in from nowhere, grabbed the offensive rebound over Knight, and slammed it back into the hoop.

74 to 75.

Whenever Robinson made a play, Yu Fei would exploit his weaknesses.

It was a tough night for the Admiral; he didn't expect that the rough foul he committed in the first quarter would cost him for the entire game.

Yu Fei called for a pick-and-roll at the five spot, forced Robinson in front of him, then like an arrow released from a bow, he rushed inside the free-throw line, stopping abruptly beside Robinson in high-speed motion, turning around and raising his arm in the cluttered paint.

The moment the basketball hit the backboard, the referee blew the whistle: Robinson's fifth foul.

Although the ball had fallen out of the hoop, Yu Fei had once again disrupted Robinson's momentum and pushed him to the brink of fouling out.

During the dead ball, both the Bucks and the Spurs brought back their starting lineups.

Less than six minutes remained in the game.

Yu Fei made one of two free throws, 75 to 75, tying the game once again.

"Good job!" Mason said to Yu Fei.

Yu Fei responded, "Just hold on for five more minutes!"

Mason thought to himself, carrying five fouls, could he last those five minutes?

No one knew what would happen; both sides fought desperately until the last moment.

Perhaps inspired by the sudden brilliance of Jackson and Redd, suddenly, the most illogical way of shooting—the mid-to-long range jump shot after a pick-and-roll—became the main offensive method for both teams.

However, the low shooting percentages indicated it was not reliable.

Yu Fei missed, Redd missed, and the newly subbed-in Ray Allen also couldn't make a shot.

On the Spurs side, Duncan kept setting high screens for his teammates like a machine.

Parker couldn't penetrate the paint, could not showcase his speed advantage, nor did he have the consistent shooting ability to make baskets.

He wanted to pass, but his vision was poor.

Parker had his passes disrupted and sent out of bounds twice in a row, and when he finally got the ball to Jackson, who had found his touch earlier in the half, the unlikely hero lost his rhythm as well.

Miss after miss, turnover after turnover, ball after ball disrupted.

The game was so hardcore and retro that it seemed like watching a match from the 1940s, before the NBA existed, when even the strongest teams often didn't score more than 50 points per game. In that era, before the 24-second shot clock rule, to win the game, the pace would be slowed repeatedly, and any team trying to speed up would be brutally defended.

Now, that defensive spirit was resurrected on the stage of the 2003 championship.

Under the 24-second shot clock, the visual experience of continuous misses made the audience feel unbearably oppressed.

Until... miraculously, Tim Duncan shot a long mid-range jumper, two steps inside the three-point line, after a pick-and-roll.

Tonight, his free-throw percentage was less than 50%.

Yet, the shot that nobody was sure would go in at that moment did go in.

At that time, with less than 2 minutes and 30 seconds remaining, 75 to 77, the Spurs suddenly took the lead.

The man, reminiscent of a statue, turned around, clenched his fist, and roared; to the sports writers who tried to shape Duncan as an emotionless robot, their efforts had failed.

In the Spurs team, no one's emotions were more abundant than Duncan's.

Yu Fei got the ball, raised his hand to call for a pick-and-roll, Mason came out while Duncan followed, with another David Robinson still standing below the Spurs' hoop. Experience more tales on empire