Chapter 25: Tell him that I will make him feel just as good.

At this moment, O'Neal once again demanded the ball in the low post on the left wing.

Tang Bei continued to push O'Neal outward, but in the next instant, O'Neal suddenly executed a nimble pivot, spinning around Tang Bei to cut into the paint.

"Fell for it!"

Lacking experience, Tang Bei’s body swayed forward as O'Neal spun. Fortunately, his base was incredibly stable, and he immediately regained his center of gravity. However, just as he turned to give chase, he saw the basketball soaring from the perimeter toward the rim, and Shaquille O'Neal was already airborne.

"Bang!"

O'Neal caught the pass from Sprewell with one hand in mid-air and slammed it home, completing an alley-oop dunk.

*Clap, clap...*

Applause erupted around the arena.

"Kid, your defense is as trashy as crap. Come again," O'Neal shouted excitedly at Tang Bei after his successful play.

"That Chinese kid's defense is flawed," Charles Oakley remarked.

Ewing nodded. "In that position, all you need to do is hold your ground against O'Neal and prevent him from getting deep position; that counts as a successful defense. Continuing to push him outward is not only a waste of energy but also makes you prone to losing your defensive assignment, unless you have a power forward behind you who is excellent at help defense."

"Patrick, are you talking about me?" Oakley joked.

"Haha..."

Ewing, who rarely laughed, remained stoic, but the others chuckled.

At this point, Tang Bei reached the low post on the left wing of the frontcourt and began to push his way in. According to his trainer, Kelly Osman, you must fight for deep position in the post; the closer you are to the basket, the higher your shooting percentage. This aligned with his style of play, as currently, only his inside scoring was reliable; his other offensive skills were shaky.

Shaq O'Neal's agent, Leonard Armato, shouted from the sidelines, "Shaq, defend him! Don't let him get inside!"

He feared O'Neal might slack off, as O'Neal wasn't particularly keen on defense. However, failing to perform well in front of a strong competitor could significantly impact his draft prospects. In his view, Tang—whose physical testing data was on par with O'Neal's—was a formidable rival, even if he was Chinese and lacked NCAA experience. He worried about O'Neal slipping up, which would be a major embarrassment. Moreover, O'Neal had already been bested once; luckily, the recent dunk had evened the score, so he couldn't afford to be careless.

"Don't even think about coming in."

With so many general managers and reporters watching, and spurred on by his agent, O'Neal was putting in maximum effort on defense, refusing to give an inch as he leaned into Tang Bei. The intense physical collision made it seem as though one could hear their muscles straining. The onlookers were gripped with focused intensity.

However, Tang Bei’s strength was overwhelming. O'Neal exerted every ounce of his energy but couldn't hold him back, being pushed back two feet.

"Such incredible power!"
"Pushing inside requires not just upper-body strength, but core and leg strength as well."
"Indeed, Tang's strength is truly astonishing."

The crowd buzzed with discussion.

Harold Miner, the other guard for the White team, saw that Tang Bei had secured deep position and immediately lobbed the ball inside. O'Neal tried to mimic what Tang Bei had done earlier to disrupt his reception. With his strength failing to hold the line, he resorted to the same trick, suddenly pulling the chair after Miner released the ball.

But Tang Bei had set a low, wide stance, his base rock-solid. When O'Neal pushed, he hadn't budged; when O'Neal pulled the chair, only his upper body swayed slightly, while his feet remained planted. As the ball landed in his hands, O'Neal, having failed the maneuver, was once again stuck behind him.

Playing with the ball, Tang Bei felt somewhat restricted. O'Neal’s defensive pressure was immense, and his own low-post back-to-the-basket technique was mediocre. While struggling against such formidable resistance, he couldn't easily execute the pivot-and-score moves he used in the CBA. Simply put, if he tried to spin now, it was easy for O'Neal to knock him off balance during the move, resulting in a turnover.

Just as he attempted to pivot, O'Neal correctly anticipated the move, swiped at the ball, and knocked it away, where it was recovered by Jim Jackson of the Red team.

As the sides swapped roles, Jordan asked curiously, "His post-up technique is too poor. Is it true that this Chinese kid’s physical test results were better than O'Neal’s?"

Jerry Krause nodded and then shook his head. "We need an interior presence, but he won't fall to the end of the first round." After a pause, he added in a lower voice, "The media currently projects him to go late in the first round. If his performance at the rookie camp is average, we might be able to make a move."

Jordan shrugged, looking indifferent. Having finally overcome the Pistons and defeated the Magic-led Lakers, his physical condition, technique, and confidence had reached their peak. Even without a great center, he was confident he could beat any opponent with this Bulls team; why would he care about a rookie with talent but no technique? He scanned the arena and, not seeing the rookie who was about to become his national team teammate, asked, "What about that guy from Duke? Why isn't he here?"

A strange smile appeared on Jerry Krause's face. "His brow was cut open; he went to get stitches."

"Who did it?" Charles Oakley asked curiously.

"Tang," Krause said, gesturing toward the court with his chin. "Tang went up for a rebound, and his elbow caught him on the way down."

Oakley laughed. "He must have been playing too close. That's a great habit for catching elbows, haha!"

Jordan suddenly cursed, "Damn it, Charles, you elbowed me last night."

"Who told you to try and dunk on me?" Oakley smirked, unfazed.

"Haha..." Mason, Starks, and the other New York thugs roared with laughter.

"Shit!" Jordan spat, exasperated.

In the low post, O'Neal received the ball and immediately executed a "Shaq spin," successfully shaking off Tang Bei before rising up for a thunderous slam.

"Bang!"

Tang Bei had jumped in a hurry and lacked the height; he was cleanly dunked on by O'Neal. O'Neal’s explosive power was equally terrifying, creating a massive impact. Tang Bei was nearly knocked over, stumbling back two large steps and one small one before regaining his footing, looking rather disheveled.

"Haha! Come again, I'm going to destroy you!" O'Neal shouted with excitement, having vented his frustration.

"Shaq, great job! Do it again!" His agent, Leonard Armato, cheered and clapped with delight.

"This guy is truly strong!" Tang Bei finally realized the caliber of a world-class center. His defensive experience was too thin; against an opponent as powerful as O'Neal, he simply couldn't stop him.

"A fall into the pit is a gain in your wit. My offense needs fakes, too."

"Wait, I was already close to the basket during the last possession. I didn't need to dribble to spin. Why didn't I use a Tai Chi pivot?"

Just as Tang Bei was self-reflecting, Shaquille O'Neal laughed smugly, "Kid, does it feel good to get destroyed by me?"

"Tang, he's asking if you enjoyed getting destroyed by him," John Liu, the translator on the sidelines, dutifully shouted.

"Tell him I'm going to make him enjoy it too," Tang Bei retorted sharply.

Despite the bravado, he understood one thing: while scoring in the CBA playoffs had been as easy as slicing vegetables, scoring over O'Neal was an entirely different challenge. This was the difference between the CBA and the NBA, and O'Neal was still just a rookie who hadn't even entered the league yet.

"I can only play inside. I must get close to the rim, then use the Tai Chi pivot to accelerate my turn to the basket, or use fakes to shake the defender before spinning to attack."