NBA: The Dynasty Crasher

Doug Collins said, "The Bulls' backup center can't hold back the rising Tyrant. Zhao Dong's got serious hops, and his quick bounce makes him a nightmare. Whether it's Kukoc or Caffey, neither of them can match his strength or speed."

Marv Albert nodded. "The Bulls need Rodman back in the mix ASAP. If they don't get him in there soon, Zhao Dong is going to tear their interior defense apart."

Swish!

Zhao Dong knocked down the free throw.

His free throw percentage used to hover around 80%, but with his shooting now at level 93, he's pushing 85%, even better when he's feeling fresh.

Bang!

On the other end, with Zhao Dong pulled out by Kukoc, Jordan attacked the rim hard, dunking on Buck Williams and drawing a foul.

Jordan sank the free throw. 42-45. Bulls back in front.

Knicks' possession.

Buck Williams stepped out, dragging Bill Wennington with him, clearing the paint for Zhao Dong to go to work inside.

Zhao Dong caught the ball, drew a double-team, and kicked it to a wide-open John Wallace. Splash! Mid-range jumper, money.

Van Gundy nodded from the sideline, satisfied with Zhao Dong's decision-making. That pass forced the Bulls to think twice before sending constant double-teams inside.

For the rest of the quarter, Zhao Dong played it smart—focused on rebounding and defense, saving energy for the second half.

Halftime Score: 52-52.

Zhao Dong logged six minutes in the second quarter, going 2-for-2 from the field, 2-for-2 from the line, finishing with 6 points, 3 rebounds, 1 assist, 1 block, and 1 foul.

Jordan turned up the aggression, attacking the paint relentlessly. Buck Williams picked up two fouls, and Zhao Dong got one. Jordan's stat line? 5-for-9 from the field, 1-for-1 from three, and 5-for-5 from the stripe. He put up 16 points, 1 rebound, 1 assist, and 1 block in the quarter.

During the halftime break, Doug Collins broke it down: "The Bulls' interior is getting exposed. Rodman sat the entire second quarter, which tells me he's not 100%. That opened the door for Zhao Dong to feast inside. He put up 22 points in a half, only nine fewer than Jordan, while drawing five fouls on the Bulls' bigs and getting to the line seven times. He converted multiple and-ones."

Marv Albert chuckled. "If the Bulls can't slow down Zhao Dong, then Michael will need to go nuclear for Chicago to have a shot at this game."

Doug Collins smirked. "Funny how things work out. Before the season, the Bulls let Zhao Dong walk. Bet they never expected him to dominate them in their own house tonight."

"Jerry Krause has an eye for talent," Marv added. "Pippen, Rodman, and even Horace Grant from back in the day—he made those moves happen."

Doug Collins laughed. "Yeah, Krause might be better at scouting talent than Jordan."

Both men shared a knowing grin.

Bulls' Locker Room.

Jordan, clearly annoyed, shut off the TV. "Alright, enough of that. We need to lock in for the second half. Dennis, I need you to slow this guy down—whatever it takes."

Rodman gave a nod but didn't say a word. He knew he wasn't at full strength but was willing to push through it.

Knicks' Locker Room.

Zhao Dong was locked in, recharging with some quick energy, trying to get his legs back under him.

Van Gundy had made his decision—Zhao Dong was playing the entire second half. No breathers.

Zhao Dong knew his conditioning wasn't elite yet—his stamina level was 87, still not quite at that top-tier level. The grind of the season was catching up, and his recovery was slowing down.

He made up his mind—once he got those quality points, upgrading his stamina was a priority. He had to break through the rookie wall before it hit him first.

Van Gundy laid out the game plan for the third quarter. He knew Zhao Dong needed to conserve some energy, so the offense would run through Ewing in the post, while Zhao Dong focused on defense and secondary scoring.

Taking a moment to breathe, Zhao Dong opened up his system to check his task progress.

Of Jordan's tasks, only the fourth one is doable right now. The rest? Damn near impossible, so he's basically let that go.

If he and Jordan ain't matched up, there's no way he's getting any rewards from him.

Jordan's explosion in the second quarter came after Kukoc pulled him out. No shot at blocking him or picking his pocket, but at least that meant he wouldn't get put on a poster.

Rodman's task? The rebounding one's still got a chance, but dropping 40+ on The Worm? That's a different beast. Rodman didn't even play in the second quarter, so those points ain't counting toward it. Tough break.

Zhao Dong's gonna lock in on three goals—dunk over Rodman three times, dunk on him at least once, and not get baited into an ejection.

But man, getting the Rodman and Pippen objectives done together? That's a pain in the ass. He'd rather focus on the squad's sniper mission—that's the most realistic one tonight.

Third quarter starts. Bulls on offense.

Zhao Dong's matched up with Rodman.

Jordan's got the rock at the right-wing three-point line, drawing defenders like a damn magnet. Pippen cuts in from the weak side, Jordan swings it to him, and Pippen rises up from the paint. Money.

Knicks respond—Ewing cashes one in.

Bulls back on offense. Jordan runs off-ball on the right wing, catches, rises—pull-up J.

Brick.

Zhao Dong secures the board, snatches it clean, and immediately pushes the break.

Doug Collins calls it out: "Longley's way too slow. Knicks got numbers..."

Zhao Dong kicks it to Charles and sprints downcourt. Rodman's right on his hip.

As he hits the top of the arc, he slows down, eyes up—sees the pass coming his way.

Catches it. Turns.

Rodman's already set.

Whistle!

"Oh, tough luck. Offensive foul! Rodman got there just in time!" Marv Albert calls it.

"That's three fouls. Zhao Dong needs to be careful," Sun Zhenping reminds.

Rodman grins, talking that talk. "Rookie, you play like a blindfolded donkey."

Zhao Dong squints at Rodman's hair—yellow and green? Man, that shit's ugly.

"Big Worm, your hair looks like a pile of dog shit." He throws in a fake gag for good measure.

Possession flips. Bulls ball.

Jordan's back on the right wing. Zhao Dong starts to rotate for help, but Rodman blocks him under the rim.

Jordan's eyes light up—sees an opening. Boom, he takes off for the paint.

Zhao Dong shrugs Rodman off, but now Jordan's coming in hot. Dude looks like he wants to baptize somebody.

Oakley and Ewing close in—Oak from the left, Ewing straight down from the free-throw line. If Jordan commits, he's walking into a two-man wall.

Doesn't matter. Jordan still drives.

"With a sword in hand, the world is mine."

Zhao Dong steps up, trying to cut him off.

Jordan reads it, shifts gears—first direction change. Slips past Zhao Dong, but Oakley's in his way now.

Second shift—quick as hell. One dribble, steps through, dodges Oakley.

Under the basket, Rodman sets a hard-ass screen, keeping Ewing stuck.

Jordan's at the rack. Elevates. Ball in his right hand.

Zhao Dong jumps for the contest, but Jordan's already in the air.

Jordan pulls the ball back—switches to his left mid-flight.

Soft push.

Zhao Dong swipes at it, fingertips close but not enough.

Swish.

United Center erupts.

"Damn, he really does it all," Zhao Dong mutters. He was locked in, but still couldn't stop him.

Jordan smirks, talking his talk. "Rookie, you keeping count? How many points I got now? Thought you were supposed to stop me."

Zhao Dong smirks back. "Ain't gonna matter how many you drop. Y'all still catching this L."

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