The Golden Age of Basketball-Chapter 1470 - 56: 3 Memories_3

Dragged into a Game Seven, both sides won their respective home games, and to enter the finals, we had to win in Salt Lake City.

The difficulty of Game Seven is that in such a match, many things you take for granted may fail, and in the end, you don’t know what will decide the victory.

Before the game, I was very nervous, more so than when I was a player myself. I hid in the locker room, away from everyone, away from cameras and microphones.

NBC’s reporter Jim Gray was even more annoying than I imagined.

Before the seventh game, I had to turn the tactical whiteboard to the wall so that no one could see the contents on it.

Sure enough, Jim Gray appeared in our locker room, trying to turn the board back around so he could see our tactics.

He wasn’t the Jazz team’s spy; he just wanted to use these shots to boost the ratings, but we didn’t want him to do that.

During the game, at halftime, Gray tried to eavesdrop on our discussions.

Ah Gan went over to warn him, "If you come over to snoop again, I’ll punch your head into your backside."

As expected, the situation was full of incidents, mistakes flying everywhere, but unreasonable shots kept going in one after another.

The Jazz team still played methodically, but we played somewhat inexplicably. More inexplicably, our scores alternated and we killed the game until the very last moments.

The Jazz began recklessly double-teaming Ah Gan, which gave opportunities for open shots outside the line, in the final three minutes.

Then came the nerve-wracking moments. In our five offensive plays during the last three minutes, apart from Ah Gan and Kobe, no one dared to take a shot.

Ah Gan passed the ball out, the ball drifted outside, either returning to Ah Gan’s hands or given to Kobe for him to shoot.

Kobe took three shots, none of which went in, and under intense defense and extreme suffocating pressure, his shots didn’t even touch the rim.

But two of them were picked up by Ah Gan, who scored under the basket, but the last one, the most crucial one, fell short too absurdly.

Ah Gan’s hands were too short to pick it up, simultaneously giving the Jazz a fast break, Malone received Stockton’s long pass and scored a layup.

This shot ended the game, ended the series, and also ended the Portland Trail Blazers’ season, as well as my first year of coaching.]

———— Published in 1999, written by Larry Bird and Jackie MacMullan in collaboration, excerpt from "Bird Watching".

[In the summer of 1997, I forgot many things, but I remember some very clearly.

Of course, I know that human memory is deceiving. Some say they remember clearly, but in reality, those might be images imagined and supplemented by your mind afterward, and the actual situation might be very different.

Some say everything has become vague, yet those blurred things are unforgettable.

I resigned from the Lakers, feeling relieved, as if the burden that had been on my shoulders for many years was finally lifted.

I clearly remember that day when I left the Lakers’ headquarters, the weather outside was sunny and beautiful, the sunlight on my face felt incredibly comfortable.

Years later, when I discussed that day with Jerry, he said it was drizzling in Los Angeles. I said it’s impossible, you’re mistaken, he said no, his memory is very good.

After resigning, I didn’t seek conversation with anyone. I went to New Jersey, where I shut myself away for a while, enjoying the freedom to sleep, watch TV, and date every day.

John actually defeated Ah Gan in the Western Conference finals, bouncing and jumping in sexy shorts, later denying it himself, saying it was synthesized.

The Jazz team made it to the finals, but unfortunately, 1997 still belonged to the Chicago Bulls, and besides Ah Gan, no one could beat Michael Jordan in the finals.

But none of these had anything to do with me at the time; I was worried about my next job—whether to return to college or choose to interview for an NBA team.

During the finals, I received a call from the Celtics’ Operations Manager ML Carr, asking if I was interested in coaching the Celtics.

At that moment, my heart raced, because I knew the Celtics had luckily won the 1997 first draft pick, and they were going to select Tim Duncan, everyone considered him to be the next Ah Gan.

I calmed down, said I was very willing, but wasn’t sure what the Celtics required.

ML Carr said: "Train Duncan to be like Ah Gan."

Oh, alright, there’s no one in this world who understands Ah Gan better than me.

By the way, ML Carr might have said something completely different at the time.

After all, some memories, I’ve already forgotten them.]

———— Published in 2005, excerpt from Bobby Berman’s autobiography "Moonlight".

(End of Volume 1 "The Clock Running Backwards")