The second quarter was only halfway through, but the gap on the scoreboard kept growing. With no better options, the Nets were forced to bench their starters to preserve their strength.
The Trail Blazers, meanwhile, stuck firmly to their game plan—tightening the screws on the Nets' perimeter offense.
That tactic paid off. The Nets' outside shooting wasn't reliable, forcing Yao Ming and Tim Duncan to constantly work overtime in the paint. They often managed to seal good low-post positions, but the ball rarely arrived on time. Sometimes, the entry pass came late or not at all, and sometimes, it came when they weren't even in position.
Watching the broadcast, Barkley shook his head.
"If the Nets want to win a championship," he said, "they need a top-tier point guard. Someone like Jason Kidd or Gary Payton. A guy who can really feed the post. Yao Ming and Duncan need someone like that to get them the ball."
Kenny Smith nodded. "They're wasting half their energy just fighting for position. By the time the fourth quarter rolls around, they'll be completely gassed."
Barkley grinned. "Nah, I don't think it'll even matter by then. We'll be in garbage time."
True to his prediction, the game was practically over by the end of the third quarter. The Trail Blazers were up by 20—at one point, even 25—and had blown the Nets out of the water.
By the fourth, the Nets knew the comeback wasn't happening. To preserve Yao and Duncan's energy for the rest of the series, they were subbed out, leaving the reserves to close out the game.
In the postgame analysis, veteran commentator Zhang Heli remarked, "Even with two superstar big men, the Nets couldn't keep up. Marbury had nine assists, sure, but also seven turnovers. That ratio's just not acceptable at this level."
Su Qun added with a smile, "After the first few minutes of the first quarter, Zhao Dong's defense on Marbury was airtight. Marbury shot just 6 of 19 today. Compare that to Zhao Dong, who went 19 of 25—it's no wonder the Nets got crushed."
Zhang nodded. "Yao Ming played 44 minutes, dropped 33 points, shot 54% from the field. Duncan had foul trouble, only played 31 minutes, but still had 19 points on 58% shooting. Combined, that's 52 points—a pretty solid performance from the bigs."
Su Qun laughed. "But Zhao Dong had 57 points, and that's not even counting the pressure he put on the defense. He was 66% from the field. That's god-tier efficiency. That's the real reason the Blazers won."
"In the regular season, the Nets split the series with the Trail Blazers," Zhang Heli noted. "But now that it's the Finals, the difference between the two teams is starting to show."
Su Qun nodded. "Actually, the second regular season game, the one played in Portland, was a preview of what happened today. In that game, Zhao Dong went at Duncan early, forced him into foul trouble, and then shut down Marbury. Once their perimeter game fell apart, the Nets had no answers."
Zhang Heli added, "And now Marion's developed. So has Stoudemire. This Blazers team is even better than they were in that regular season game—no wonder they won even more convincingly this time."
—
After the final buzzer, players from both teams began shaking hands. Zhao Dong walked over to Yao Ming, who was still trying to catch his breath.
"How's your first Finals experience feel?" Zhao Dong asked, grinning.
Yao bent over, hands on knees, sweat dripping off his face and splattering the hardwood like rain. He panted, "Brother Dong, can you cut Marbury some slack next game? You're locking him down too hard—it's almost unfair. There's no challenge in this for you, is there?"
Zhao Dong laughed. "No chance. I'm doubling the pressure next time. Right from tip-off."
Yao straightened up, eyes wide. "What are you trying to do, Brother Dong?"
"Simple. I'm going for the sweep," Zhao Dong replied, still smiling.
"Being swept in the Finals… isn't that what happened to O'Neal?" Yao groaned, his face full of despair. "Come on, Brother Dong. Don't sweep us. The league doesn't like one-sided Finals."
Zhao Dong shrugged. "Well, the sooner I sweep you guys, the sooner I can fly back home."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Yao Ming to mutter behind him, "Swept…? This is my first Finals, man…"
—
After Game 1, the media and fans began questioning Marbury's performance.
During a media appearance, Barkley didn't hold back:
"Iron Horse made way too many mistakes. He looks rattled by the Trail Blazers' defense. If he doesn't adjust soon, the Nets are in trouble.
He's holding onto the ball too much. He needs to pass earlier.
Yao and Duncan are both capable of handling the ball in the low post. They've got vision, they can distribute. You've got to trust them.
When your two All-Star big men get the ball deep in the post, they'll pull in the defense. That opens up massive space for the perimeter. But you gotta get them the ball first."
An hour later, the Nets held their postgame press conference. Reporters swarmed Marbury with questions, many of them direct criticisms: ball hogging, too many turnovers, lazy defense.
It was a media feeding frenzy—and it clearly got to him.
After the press conference, he turned to Duncan and Yao, visibly shaken.
"Am I really that bad?" Marbury asked. "Do you think the team's gonna trade me this offseason?"
Duncan and Yao exchanged glances. They didn't have any answers—just words of comfort. Right now, their biggest concern was keeping Marbury mentally strong. If he broke down, the series was as good as over.
—
One day later, Game 2 of the Finals arrived.
As the teams filed through the tunnel toward the court, Zhao Dong spotted Marbury and flashed a grin.
"Iron Horse, I heard the Nets are thinking about trading you?" he said casually.
Marbury's face twisted. "You got that from a source?"
Zhao Dong shrugged. "Didn't the media say it?"
Marbury let out a long breath and glared at him. "You trying to scare me now? I wasn't raised to be afraid."
Yao Ming, walking just behind them, couldn't help but laugh. "Brother Dong, stop messing with Stephen."
Game 2 saw Marbury adjusting to Zhao Dong's suffocating defense and playing with more poise. His performance improved, showing better decision-making under pressure.
But despite his individual recovery, the gap between the two teams remained glaring.
The Nets' perimeter unit was still no match for Portland's firepower. Once their outside game crumbled, the ripple effect hit the paint. Yao Ming and Tim Duncan struggled to anchor the team without reliable perimeter support, and ultimately, the Nets dropped Game 2.
—
On June 8, both teams arrived in New York City almost simultaneously before heading by bus to East Rutherford, New Jersey—the home base of the Nets.
New Jersey, despite being one of the smallest states in size at just 20,000 square kilometers, holds the highest population density in America. It borders New York to the north, and much of its northern territory falls under the New York metropolitan area.
But to Zhao Dong, East Rutherford was just a small town—barely a blip on the map, and certainly not even in the top 30 cities in New Jersey. He wasn't surprised the Nets would eventually relocate to Brooklyn. The local market just wasn't big enough to sustain a powerhouse franchise.
—
On June 9, Game 3 of the NBA Finals tipped off.
Under mounting pressure, Marbury cracked. His performance dipped compared to Game 2, and his inconsistency at the point guard position threw off the team's rhythm.
With their floor general struggling again, the Nets were out of sync. Portland capitalized, and once again took control of the game. The loss all but sealed the series outcome—the Nets were on the brink of a sweep.
In the locker room, the Nets' Big Three—Marbury, Duncan, and Yao—could feel the walls closing in.
Barkley summed it up bluntly postgame on TNT:
"The only thing the Nets should focus on now is avoiding a sweep. That's the last bit of pride they have left."
—
Game 4 arrived on June 11. The Blazers came in with blood in their eyes.
From the opening tip, their defensive game plan was crystal clear—shut down the perimeter. Zhao Dong, as expected, took Marbury head-on and dismantled him on both ends of the floor.
A point guard sets the tone for the entire offense. When your floor general gets dominated, the ripple effect infects the whole squad. That's exactly what happened to the Nets.
Their perimeter trio—from the one to the three—was two tiers below Portland's in both skill and execution. They couldn't generate offense, nor could they apply enough pressure on the defensive end to slow the Blazers down.
The outside collapse was total. And with that, the sweep came as expected.
Four games to none.
The Portland Trail Blazers clinched the 2000–2001 NBA Championship on the Nets' home court.
Zhao Dong didn't just lift the trophy—he made history. Five consecutive championships. Five straight Finals MVPs.
—
"Congratulations to Zhao Dong! He's done it—five straight titles! He is the real God of Basketball!" Zhang Heli roared on the Chinese broadcast, voice trembling with excitement.
Su Qun followed with a passionate breakdown:
"Four straight regular season MVPs—unprecedented! Five consecutive Finals MVPs—also unprecedented! Averaging over 50 points in an entire Finals series—unprecedented!
101 points in a single regular season game—first in NBA history!
80 points in a single playoff game—first in NBA history!
Five straight championships, four straight scoring titles, two assist titles, and four years of being First Team All-NBA on both ends.
This mountain of hard-earned achievements… this is why Zhao Dong is now standing alone as the God of Basketball!"
—
Over on TNT, Barkley added with a grin:
"Congrats to the Blazers! First title in 24 years! And shoutout to owner Paul Allen—your investment has finally paid off."
Kenny Smith chuckled. "Congrats to Larry Bird for winning a title as a head coach. Let's be honest—your coaching's so-so, but you've got the best thigh to hug in the business."
That made Barkley laugh out loud. "Facts!"
—
The Blazers management had champagne ready in advance.
After celebrating with the visiting fans in New Jersey, the players returned to the locker room—where bottles were already popping. The room erupted in foam and cheers as champagne sprayed in all directions.
Owner Paul Allen and the entire front office joined in. Everyone—players, coaches, execs—was soaked in sweet, fizzy victory.
—
Back in Portland, the team hosted a massive celebration ceremony.
And on June 14, at 9:00 a.m. U.S. time, Zhao Dong's family and his entourage boarded a flight home to China.
Scheduled arrival: June 15, 9:00 a.m. Beijing time.
—
At home, the excitement was already bubbling.
"Dacheng! Dacheng! Get up! Are you still sleeping at this hour?"
The sun hadn't even fully risen, but Zhao Dong's mother, Li Meizhu, was already up and racing toward the next yard to wake her eldest son. She couldn't wait to meet her four little grandchildren.
Zhao Dacheng groaned as he opened his eyes. "It's barely 5 a.m., Mom…"
"They might've landed early, who knows? You better get up and get ready!" Li Meizhu urged impatiently.
"You think they broke the speed limit in the sky?" Dacheng muttered, getting out of bed.
His wife, Xu Qing, was also stirred awake. "Come on, if she keeps yelling, the baby's gonna wake up too!"
"Alright, alright, I'm up."
He glanced at the tiny crib beside the bed. His newborn son, just two weeks old, was already beginning to stir. Dacheng quickly pulled on his clothes and stepped outside.
"Mom, there are dozens of people flying in with them," he said. "The convoy's scheduled to arrive here by 7. It's still early. Even if we go now, we won't be any help."
"I don't care. Call the drivers. Tell them to head straight to the airport. You and I will go now," Meizhu insisted.
"Alright, alright, I'll call." Dacheng sighed.
Before 7 a.m., Zhao Dacheng drove his mother straight to the international airport.
"Mom, why don't you nap in the car? Still two hours left."
"Nonsense! What nap? Let's go inside and wait! Didn't you sleep enough last night?"
Seeing that she wouldn't take no for an answer, Dacheng had no choice but to follow her into the terminal.
Not long after, the rest of the welcoming motorcade also arrived.
They waited until 8:50, when Zhao Dong's flight landed.
At 9:20 sharp, Zhao Dong, Lindsay, and their children finally appeared at the terminal exit.
"Mom!" Zhao Dong and Lindsay called out in unison, waving from afar.
"Hey! There you are! Come quickly—come here!"
Li Meizhu's face lit up as she broke into a jog, arms wide open, ready to embrace her four bouncing, adorable grandchildren.
"Mom, slow down, please! Watch your step!" Zhao Dong hurried forward the moment he saw her rushing toward them.
"Call Grandma!" Lindsay nudged the four boys gently.
"Grandma!" the quadruplets called out in unison, their voices sweet and clear.
"Ahhh! My babies…"
Li Meizhu stopped in front of them, her face overwhelmed with joy. She looked at one, then another, not knowing where to place her hands. She wanted to hug them all at once but didn't know which one to reach for first.
"Mom, this is the fourth one—Rongxing."
Lindsay, carrying the youngest of the quadruplets, Zhao Rongxing, gently pushed him forward. The baby was smart—he raised his tiny arms toward his grandmother on cue.
"Oh, my sweet boy! Come to Grandma!"
Li Meizhu laughed so hard that tears welled in her eyes. She quickly scooped Zhao Rongxing into her arms, overwhelmed by the moment.
With Zhao Dong's entourage surrounding them and the four lively little boys attracting attention, the scene at the airport became festive and noisy. The Zhao family had brought the celebration home.
Coincidentally, Zhao Dacheng's son had been born just half a month earlier. The full-month banquet hadn't even been held yet, and Zhao Dong's return home happened to line up perfectly.
After settling in, Zhao Dong and Lindsay went straight to his elder brother's courtyard to see their newborn nephew. Zhao Dong brought a hefty red envelope as a gift.
"Is Sister-in-law recovering well?" Lindsay asked warmly.
"Very well," Xu Qing replied with a bright smile. "I was only in the hospital for three days before coming home. Smooth delivery, no complications."
Zhao Dong leaned over the crib and gazed at the sleeping infant. "Hey bro, your son really looks like you."
Zhao Dacheng rolled his eyes. "Of course he does! If he didn't, that'd be a big problem."
Xu Qing chuckled and gave him a light punch. "Go on, now."
"Haha!" Zhao Dong couldn't help but laugh out loud.
—
While Zhao Dong enjoyed his offseason at home, the rest of the NBA was already in full swing.
With the draft approaching, front offices across the league were in overdrive. While top prospects were obvious targets, scouts and executives also focused on unheralded talents—those who might slip through the cracks.
Why? Because of Zhao Dong.
Every general manager was hoping to unearth the next hidden gem—the next Zhao Dong—from the depths of the draft pool.
Aside from draft prep, teams were also preparing for roster reinforcements. The trade window hadn't opened yet, but agents were already flooded with calls.
Players with existing contracts were being floated as trade chips. Those entering free agency were high-priority targets.
Unsurprisingly, many agents representing Trail Blazers players were especially busy.
Brian Grant, Dale Davis, Fordson, Mike Miller, O'Neal Jr., Shawn Marion—every one of their agents was juggling calls from half the league.
The Lakers' general manager, Jerry West, was arguably the busiest of them all. The pressure on him was immense. With a star-studded roster and one of the largest payrolls in the NBA, failure was not an option.
If the Lakers failed to win a championship again next season, West knew he might be forced to step down. He wouldn't even have the face to stay. His legacy would be tarnished.
That's why his eyes were locked on Portland's roster. If he could pry away even one key player from the Blazers, he'd not only strengthen the Lakers but weaken their fiercest rival in the West.
Two birds, one stone.
The Nets shared the same strategy. They had no plans of sitting quietly after being swept.
Back in Portland, Trail Blazers GM Whitsitt had just wrapped up a meeting with Detlef Schrempf. The veteran forward had decided to retire after the championship win, ending a respected career.
Whitsitt focus now shifted to two major tasks: preparing for the draft and retaining the current core.
While the Blazers didn't hold a valuable pick of their own, they had acquired the Warriors' first-round pick—a top-three protected asset. Golden State finished with the fifth pick, meaning it now belonged to Portland.
With that pick, Whitsitt planned to target a young guard or small forward—ideally a swingman who could slot in between positions.
The Trail Blazers were a powerhouse, but their backcourt depth was shallow. Zhao Dong was often forced to take on both scoring and facilitating duties. Adding a reliable guard could unlock even more tactical flexibility and allow Zhao Dong to pick his spots on offense and defense.
If the roster remained intact, Portland would still be a championship-level team next season. Most of the key players were under contract.
But Whitsitt wasn't naïve. He knew the vultures were circling. If any player asked out, he wouldn't be able to stop it.
His biggest concern? Shawn Marion.
Marion had just completed the first three years of his rookie-scale "three-plus-one" contract. That final year was a player option, meaning he could decline it and test the open market.
Whitsitt picked up the phone and immediately dialed Marion's agent.
"Is this true?" he asked, tension in his voice.
The reply on the other end crushed his hopes.
Marion had officially declined the fourth-year player option.
Whitsitt didn't waste a second. "We'll offer $20 million over three years."
The agent didn't hesitate. "That's not going to work. We're going to free agency."
The call ended, and Whitsitt let out a heavy sigh.
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