Bruce Li had studied Brooks’s game closely.
He knew Brooks was a very fast player with a decent shooting ability.
However, Brooks had a habit of driving to the right, initiating his attacks from that side.
Even if he started by dribbling left, he would eventually shift direction toward the right side of the basket.
Because of this, Bruce Li’s defensive approach became more targeted.
But…
all of this was ultimately just a mental simulation—purely theoretical.
When Brooks suddenly changed direction and drove toward him, Bruce Li felt his body instinctively sway, despite having anticipated the move.
Yet, his lateral movement was still a fraction too slow, allowing Brooks to get a half-step advantage past his defense.
Bruce Li quickly turned to give chase, but just as he was about to catch up, Brooks came to an abrupt halt.
As Bruce’s momentum carried him forward, Brooks released a floater…
Swish!
The ball went through the net.
This play made Bruce fully realize the disparity in physical gifts; while their speeds weren’t vastly different, their coordination, explosiveness, and body control were worlds apart.
These factors hindered Bruce Li from moving laterally fast enough to stay in front, and also prevented him from braking and jumping to contest the shot while in high-speed pursuit.
It was these subtle differences that led to the defensive failure.
“The player who just scored is Aaron Brooks—the ‘Allen Iverson’ of the University of Oregon.
I think he has a shot at being a top draft pick.
Despite his short stature, he possesses skilled ball-handling, quick and agile footwork, and the ability to score at will,” Wallson gushed on television.
However, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar pursed his lips and remarked, “Actually, at least two of his teammates were in better offensive positions while he was driving.
Yet, he chose to attack the basket himself; that kind of play actually hurts his NBA draft prospects.” Uh…
Wallson was losing his mind…
Why would you speak such blunt truths at a moment like this, Mr.
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar?
Moments later, however, Abdul-Jabbar expressed his admiration.
Bruce Li had just delivered a beautiful bounce pass to his open teammate, Thompson, who then sank a three-pointer.
“Bruce Li made perfect use of the screen set by his teammate.
He quickly penetrated the paint, drawing the defense into a switch, but didn’t rush to pass or shoot.
Instead, he kept driving, waiting for the double-team before quickly passing to set up his teammate for the score.
That is a natural-born point guard,” Abdul-Jabbar said with unwavering candor.
Although his bluntness made some uncomfortable, most viewers agreed with his assessment.
After all, he was the NBA’s all-time leading scorer.
His endorsement of Bruce Li carried immense weight.
This frustrated Jonny Wallson.
He had been invited to root for Oregon, yet found himself cheering for Stanford’s number 10 instead.
The game continued at a blistering pace.
Oregon relied on the trio of Brooks, Martyrenn, and Marrick Hairston, with Brooks serving as the primary point guard while Martyrenn and Hairston acted as finishers on the wings and in the paint.
They were like an offensive version of Nash, a lower-tier Diaw, and a lower-tier Marion.
Stanford also employed a fast-paced, aggressive style, but they were essentially a budget version of the Nash-Stoudemire duo—featuring a “discount” Nash (Bruce Li) and a “discount” Stoudemire (Scott)—complemented by a squad of sharpshooters.
Although Brooks had confidently predicted before the game that they would easily defeat Stanford in the first half, by halftime they were trailing 41–45—a four-point deficit.
“Stanford’s most dangerous player is number 10.
Their entire offensive system revolves around him.
He racked up 11 assists in the first half alone—a massive defensive failure on our part.
We were helpless against his pick-and-roll plays with Scott or Frank Benson.
He waltzed into our defensive zone as if it were his own backyard, then dished the ball to a shooter or Scott to finish the play.” During the halftime break, Oregon coach Altman exploded in anger.
Pointing at Brooks and Marty Lenning, he shouted, “Your defense is weaker than moldy, foul-smelling bread.
You couldn’t even stop that skinny Chinese kid?
Marty, you claim to be the toughest defender in the Pacific Division, yet that skinny guy blew past you time and again to rack up assists.” “Aaron, didn’t you arrogantly call yourself Allen Iverson?
Iverson never let anyone do whatever they wanted right in front of him.” “I’ll say it again: this is a must-win game.
If we lose, all our previous efforts to qualify for the tournament will go to waste, and we’ll become a laughingstock.
You ladies are facing a bottom-tier team that’s missing its key players and head coach!” Coach Altman was fired up; his voice could even be heard by the Stanford players on the bench.
In contrast, Coach Jamie Lin was soft-spoken and polite.
She spoke gently to her players about the mistakes they had made on the court and the corrections needed.
She also decided to rest Bruce Li for at least five minutes.
“You played the entire first half; now you need a short break.
I know your physical condition very well; you can’t play the whole game at this fast-paced, high-intensity tempo.” Jamie Lin placed great importance on Bruce Li’s stamina, as it was a matter of his health.
Many injuries occur when players are exhausted and their movements become uncontrolled.
Although Bruce Li wanted to explain that his stamina was much better now, under Jamie Lin’s stern gaze, he ultimately had no choice but to comply.
After Bruce Li left the court, Jamie Lin sent in the ambitious Chris Patt.
Ever since losing a one-on-one duel against Bruce, this guy had been plotting something big.
He couldn’t wait to prove that he was better than Bruce Li.
Tonight, he finally got his chance; Jamie Lin put him in the game.
He was brimming with confidence, certain he could easily beat Aaron Brooks, who was just as short as he was.
However…
less than three minutes after he entered the game, the fans in the arena couldn’t take it anymore and shouted in unison: “We-need-Lee!!” …