Chapter Forty-Four: The Second Half

“He scores again! Another one!”
Sun Zhengping’s exclamations seemed endless.
“Yes, this is the most logical way for the Clippers to play—just get the ball to Ah Xing, who has the highest shooting percentage,” Zhang Helix offered his usual reasonable analysis.
By halftime, the Clippers had overtaken with a score of 64 to 60.
This kind of first-half scoring was astonishing for this era; it was practically a goal-fest with no defense in sight.
He Xinghui and McGrady were both offensive powerhouses but weak defensively. Coincidentally, both had found their rhythm tonight, so such a high-scoring affair was hardly surprising.
Yet, keen-eyed fans noticed something remarkable in the first-half stats: He Xinghui had edged out McGrady.
McGrady went 9 for 17 from the field, 1 for 4 from three, and made 5 of 6 free throws for a total of 24 points.
He Xinghui, however, shot 11 for 17, draining 8 of 11 three-pointers, and without a single free throw, racked up 30 points.
“Thirty points in one half—Ah Xing's scoring ability is simply explosive,” Sun Zhengping marveled.
He could never have imagined that He Xinghui would put on such a dazzling performance tonight.
“A cause for celebration—our country is about to produce another basketball superstar,” declared Zhang Helix.
Though He Xinghui had delivered flashes of brilliance before, he had never been consistent, and his defense was lacking. He had been considered an excellent player, but still a step below someone like Yao Ming, who was a cornerstone on both ends of the floor.
But after this match, Zhang Helix now placed He Xinghui in the same echelon as Yao Ming.
What did poor defense matter? So long as he could score.
If you could average 30 points per game in the NBA, teams would line up for you regardless of your defensive shortcomings.
Even if you couldn’t win games, such scoring outbursts could still help sell tickets.
…
“This kid’s got real potential,” David Stern mused.
Stern had actually noticed He Xinghui early on, but he had never intended to promote him.
After all, the league already had Yao Ming to attract the Chinese market; there was no need for more Chinese stars.
His strategy was to open up the global market, but still ensure American players remained dominant.
If most NBA superstars came from overseas, the American fans wouldn’t be happy.
(Just like in the CBA, where the scoring leaders are all foreigners—watching games just to see foreign players show off isn’t satisfying at all.)
Stern had calculated his moves carefully, but even he couldn’t control everything.
He Xinghui attracted endless discussion and headlines—news that Stern couldn’t suppress.
Now He was displaying explosive scoring ability and boundless potential.
Stern finally accepted reality: he couldn’t suppress He Xinghui.
“Understood,” Adam Silver replied.
Next, he would have a quiet word with the referees—give them a hint.
Right now, He Xinghui was averaging only one free throw per game, an absurdly low number.
Many of He’s fans were already voicing their frustration on social media, claiming their idol wasn’t getting superstar calls and was still treated like a rookie.
“But the All-Star votes need to be managed—let him mature for another year or two,” Stern said.
As the league boss, he was extremely controlling.
He hadn’t hesitated to place Shaquille O’Neal among the league’s fifty greatest players early on, or to push Kobe Bryant into the All-Star Game while others objected.
Time had proven him right, and this only made him more self-assured, plotting out He Xinghui’s career.
“Making the All-Star team in his rookie season is unreasonable; the voting system needs to evolve,” Silver agreed.
While they were deep in conversation, the second half of the game had already begun.
In the second half, McGrady’s stamina was spent, and He Xinghui’s special skills had faded; both returned to normal form.
During the first half, neither coach had reined in their players’ scoring sprees, giving them a chance to put on a show.
But in the second half, both Van Gundy and Dunleavy wanted the win and could no longer let their players run wild.
The Rockets shifted their focus to Yao Ming as their primary offensive weapon.
Yao had taken few shots earlier, so his energy was mostly intact.
Now, with the ball in his hands, he began to dominate.
Chris Kaman, weighing 120 kilos, could put up some resistance against Yao in terms of strength.
But when it came to Yao’s little hook shot, Kaman was helpless.
In both height and wingspan, he was at a considerable disadvantage.
“Double-team! Don’t let him get the ball!”
Dunleavy shouted at Brand from the sideline—it was clear Kaman alone couldn’t handle Yao.
Brand moved up to help, making it much harder for Alston to feed Yao the ball.
One lapse, and a steal or turnover was inevitable.
But every advantage comes with a cost. With Brand’s attention on Yao, Juwan Howard inevitably got more chances.
Howard was often criticized as an overpaid underachiever, but calling him incompetent was unfair.
Shooting 46 percent with an average of 11 points per game, he was a perfectly serviceable starter by any measure.
Howard nailed a precise mid-range jumper, making Dunleavy frown.
On the Clippers’ possession, Brand started to assert himself as well.
Having watched He Xinghui put on a show in the first half, Brand was itching to get in on the action.
Juwan Howard’s defense was mediocre, and Brand’s low-post game was top-notch. This was a matchup the Rockets couldn’t completely shut down.
They might send Yao to help, but that would force Yao to cover more ground and drain his energy quickly.
If Brand chose to pass out of the double-team, the risk would only increase.
No player on the court is perfect, nor is any strategy flawless.
Sometimes, you simply have to concede certain points.
Brand muscled Howard aside, then finished with a soft hook shot of his own—the ball went in.
In the next possession, the Rockets repeated their previous play, but this time Howard missed.
The outcome of a game is decided by a combination of player talent, form, and tactics—none can be ignored.
On the Clippers’ next attack, Cassell made a mistake and Alston stole the ball.
He passed it to McGrady, who blew past He Xinghui with his first step and pulled up for a mid-range jumper.
The moment McGrady got the ball, He Xinghui knew he couldn’t stop him, so he shifted his focus to a follow-up sneak attack.
McGrady was a bit careless with his shot; He Xinghui spun around, caught up, and swatted the ball away with a resounding block.
It was only the second block of his NBA career so far—a waste, given his height and wingspan.
After the successful block, He Xinghui couldn’t resist showing off; he mimicked Dikembe Mutombo, wagging his finger at McGrady.
The gesture seemed simple, but it was hard to pull off with the right flair.
Too big, too small, too fast, too slow—all would ruin the effect. Shaq had tried it before, but his finger wag was so awkward it completely missed Mutombo’s style.
But for He Xinghui, this was no challenge at all.
He had a natural talent for showmanship, picking it up without a teacher. His finger wag came off as genuinely cool.
Of course, there was a price to pay.
The referee immediately rushed over and whistled He Xinghui for a technical foul.