Chapter 29: Objective: Send the “Good Big Brothers” Off

On September 30, 1996, a young Jeff Van Gundy returned to his office after the New York Knicks' practice to discuss the team's lineup with his coaching staff.

During the 1995-96 season, the Knicks finished with a record of 47-35, placing them fourth in the Eastern Conference. Despite their respectable standing, they averaged only 97.2 points per game, ranking 22nd in the league. Of the seven teams trailing them, most were blatant "tanking" squads, with the exception of the Eastern Conference's Miami Heat and Detroit Pistons. Looking at the pace, the Knicks averaged 77.8 possessions per game, 25th in the league—fifth from the bottom. Meanwhile, the first-place Dallas Mavericks averaged 90.6 possessions; the two teams were playing entirely different versions of basketball. A curious observation from the league statistics was how similar the Knicks were to the Heat. After Pat Riley left New York, he brought his brand of "hard-nosed" basketball to Miami.

The Chicago Bulls played at a pace of only 84.0 possessions, yet they averaged 105.2 points per game, ranking first in the league, while their defense held opponents to just 92.9 points, ranking second. Statistically, the Bulls were truly balanced on both ends of the floor; their dominance was no exaggeration. The Knicks' ability to win relied primarily on defense, holding opponents to 94.9 points per game—the fourth-best defense in the league last season. The Pistons and the Heat ranked third and fifth, respectively.

While the Pistons and Heat could afford to ignore their offensive struggles and stick to their style, the Knicks were reaching a breaking point. Without a championship to show for it, the demanding New York fans were losing patience. They didn't want to watch boring defensive slogs at Madison Square Garden; they wanted the Knicks to run a fluid triangle offense like the Bulls, and the fans felt that shouldn't be too hard.

General Manager Ernie Grunfeld had brought Larry Johnson to the Knicks without much consultation, but after over half a month of training, Jeff Van Gundy still hadn't solved the team's offensive issues. Despite being only 34 years old, Van Gundy was so stressed that his hair was visibly thinning.

"We could try to reduce Patrick Ewing's usage. We've added Larry, and he's a great offensive player!" veteran assistant coach Don Chaney interjected, noticing that everyone else was dancing around the issue.

Last season, Patrick Ewing's usage rate reached 31.5%, fourth in the league. Michael Jordan’s usage rate for the Bulls was a staggering 33.3%, ranking first.

To play a beautiful perimeter-oriented offense, you have to utilize your perimeter players more—it’s as simple as that. If you don't give them the ball, it doesn't matter who they are. Tom Thibodeau, noticing Van Gundy had fallen silent again, tried to smooth things over: "It will take more time; changing the team's identity isn't something that happens overnight."

Don Chaney shook his head. As an assistant coach, he only spoke up because he had a good relationship with Van Gundy. If they continued with "hard-nosed" basketball and failed to get results, the coaching staff would likely be purged within two seasons.

In this era, with the exception of the unique Michael Jordan, most teams built their offense from the inside out. Shaquille O'Neal’s usage rate was 32.8%, Hakeem Olajuwon’s was 31.9%, and behind Ewing, Karl Malone and David Robinson also had usage rates approaching 30%.

Jeff Van Gundy remained conflicted. Listening to his assistants, he still couldn't bring himself to make a change. The brand Pat Riley had left on the Knicks remained deeply entrenched. "We still have time; let's observe the players' form during the preseason."

Hearing this indecisive remark, Brendan Malone, an assistant who had also worked in New York for years, couldn't help but ask quietly: "Who will be our starting point guard? Li is in the best shape and has the most consistent shot. Perhaps we can trust him!"

Van Gundy shook his head again, and silence fell over the room. With three main scoring options in the starting lineup, it didn't really matter who played the point; they were all just role players.

...

After more than half a month, Li You was finally able to go home early. Ever since the rookie initiation, the "big brothers" on the team had been relatively accommodating to the newcomer. Every night, they would head to authentic black nightclubs to party, and thanks to his impressive tolerance for alcohol, Li You had won the approval of his teammates.

However, Li You genuinely disliked the style of those clubs, and he had absolutely no interest in the fading "gangsta rap." Having listened to their endless, repetitive chatter for weeks, he was nearly overwhelmed. Tonight, he was finally able to rest, mainly because the "big brothers'" wives had put their foot down; otherwise, he would still be out drinking.

Mark Bartelstein was surprised to see how tidy Li You kept his apartment; it didn't look like the home of a typical bachelor. Li You poured his agent a glass of iced cola and then proceeded to chug from his own bottle. "This is the kind of stuff humans are meant to drink!"

With one gulp, he felt completely refreshed.

"Some of the black players just love going to those 'black' clubs. It's part of the team culture—a reminder not to forget your roots."

"It seems you've adapted to life here; that's good news!" Mark Bartelstein noted. Seeing Li You living well in New York, he couldn't help but think of the unfortunate Ray Allen in Milwaukee; the two players' lives were worlds apart.

"Team culture? That's black culture. The Knicks are Ewing's team; everything revolves around him." Li You had fully grasped the internal dynamics of the Knicks. The "Four Great Centers" certainly had a lot of clout.

Mark Bartelstein smiled and offered a different perspective: "Patrick Ewing's team? No, New York is still Pat Riley's team for now. Your young head coach won't make too many changes."

"The New York media loves Pat Riley. Even now, the Los Angeles media still misses the Lakers team he built."

"With NBA broadcasting rights becoming more valuable, Pat Riley might be the first coach in the league to market himself. He is meticulous about his image and loves the big stage."

"The slicked-back hair, the fashionable sunglasses, and the forever-pressed suits are all meant to capture media attention. Of course, most importantly, he even looks a bit like Al Pacino. The media loves a head coach like that."

"Li, the NBA isn't just about basketball. Madison Square Garden remains the biggest stage in the league; you need to showcase yourself more!"

Li You stood up from the sofa and walked to the window, looking out at the bustling Manhattan nightscape. He thought of the two "big brothers" in the starting lineup who would always stick out their backsides, demanding the ball.

"Ewing is already 34. No one can stop the passage of time. For me, that's a good thing."

Hearing this, Mark Bartelstein laughed, as they were thinking the same thing: "If you want to make a name for yourself, the best option is to see the King of New York depart."