Chapter 4 Evaluation, Joining the NBA

Jeff, eager to select a candidate, went straight to the point.

"In a playoff scenario facing the Chicago Bulls, how would you arrange the offensive and defensive strategies? You've all undoubtedly watched the finals. Take five minutes to think, and you may answer at any point."

Jeff believed that apart from the Bulls, he had strategies to counteract other Eastern teams. What he needed was an assistant to contribute innovative ideas on offense.

The question was directly related to the New York Knicks' ambitions for the following season and would test the coaches' acumen — all within five minutes.

To be an NBA-caliber coach, it was not enough to know basic training routines; you had to possess tactical philosophies suited to the team and ample adaptability under pressure.

Jeff's in-game adaptability was rather lacking. If his assistant were just a smooth talker, resorting to shallow motivational tactics or pandering to star players, hope for the New York Knicks would be little to none.

Great coaches had experience, and both Tom and Ken had pondered this very question during the finals.

Still, neither rushed to respond. At 39, Tom was aware; at 45, Ken was well-versed and composed.

Speaking first held risks for an inadequate idea or one that missed Jeff's expectations could prove disadvantageous. Speaking later allowed for the enhancement of a rival's tactics.

Yet speaking late also had drawbacks. If the initial idea was solid or strikingly similar, any dissent would be perceived as concurrence, potentially forfeiting any chance to stand out.

Considering each other as the main competition for the lead assistant position, neither Tom nor Ken wanted any mistakes.

As the two engaged in a mental tug-of-war, Jerry raised his hand, pointing toward a whiteboard on the wall. "I've given this question some thought. May I speak first?"

Jerry watched Jeff's expression closely, noting a slight frown of dissatisfaction as if unimpressed with Jerry's quickness to speak.

It was odd in an industry that valued rapid tactical responsiveness, quick thinking, and directness. However, sometimes it also led to disfavor.

Jeff felt that Jerry was too eager to showcase himself, lacking gravitas. Having declared a learning stance, should he not first hear what the experienced had to say? Even a simple query for permission would suffice.

Tom and Ken, masking their doubts with smiles, didn't treat Jerry as their competitor.

At 23, Jeff had secured his coaching credentials, becoming an assistant for the New York Knicks at 27. After four years of rigorous proving, he convinced the management, setting a record in the NBA. If Jerry aspired for this job, he had to demonstrate even greater prodigiousness.

But Jeff came from a basketball dynasty. What of Jerry?

Their considerations paralleled those of Coach Calipari from the Nets. Basketball in China was insufficiently developed. How could such a young man understand the depth of strategy? Even if he exposed to the sport from a tender age. Surely, he couldn't be that strong, making his boldness an apt decoy.

Jerry requested a tactical pen and hastily sketched on the board, declaring, "Let's begin with defense. In my view, the strength of the Chicago Bulls' attack lies not in their team dynamics but individual prowess—Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen. The crux of the triangle offense is to facilitate one-on-one opportunities for their stars. Therefore, my defensive strategy involves collapsing to the vicinity of the paint to ensure support and double-teaming these players, coercing the Bulls to settle for mid to long-range shots."

He drew the court simplistically, numbering players from 1 to 5, making their placements clear. Except for the point guard, each was clustered near the paint.

In 1997, computers were not yet household staples; general basketball officiating and tactical drawings were alien to most.

Jerry had insider knowledge—the future of his work revolved around NBA tactics, where dazzling plays and top-five highlights furnished with flash tactical animations were standard. This exposure trumped the archaic methods learned at five-star training camps.

Jeff's interest piqued; this matched his own thought.

NBA rules prohibited zone defense, but Jeff's lifeline was "pseudo-zone defense," a maneuver where defenders collapsed following an opponent's moves in set plays, barricading the paint with three or four players, forcing mid to long-range shots as opposed to easy layups or dunks.

The efficacy of such defense was evident; the New York Knicks averaged 92.2 points against per game the previous season—second in the league only to the Heat's 89.3, with the Bulls trailing in third with 92.3.

The experts immediately grasped Jerry's tactical intent.

Tom and Ken's Frowned and couldn't retort. Internally, they thought that the New York Knicks won because of their defense, and Jerry simply recited tactics consistent with Jeff's preferences.

Jeff inquired curiously, "Why is that? Can you elaborate on it in detail?"

"The Bulls' lack of consistent three-point shooting is obvious," Jerry explained. "Neither Michael nor Scottie excels beyond the arc. Michael might penetrate or back down at the post, but collapsing on him impairs his shooting, forcing a pass. We'll leave Dennis Rodman and Luc Longley open and let them take the shots—how many points can they really score? Their mid-range game is feeble, and they're unlikely to attempt."

Jeff's impassive visage persisted as he probed further, "On offense, how do the New York Knicks penetrate the Bulls' formidable interior defense? Would you need time to consider an offensive strategy?"

"No need; the answer is straightforward." Jerry chuckled, to the surprise of the room.

The simplicity belied the sport's complexity. If the New York Knicks truly excelled offensively, they wouldn't have suffered a second-round defeat to the Heat, prompting media criticism that haunted Jeff since May.

Fearlessly, Jerry proceeded to map out the offensive scheme.

"Charlie Ward or Charles Oakley initiate from beyond the arc, Allan and Patrick work off-the-ball on one flank to shake off defenders, while Johnson and Charles draw attention on the other with their mid-range threat. Luc, slow to defend outside, gives Allan near-open shots if he hesitates to follow to the perimeter."

The strategy was self-evident; even General Manager Ernie saw merit, asking, "What if Luc defends out?"

Jerry made a slight modification to the diagram, a smile playing on his lips. "Allan's skill set goes beyond just shooting; he's adept at exploiting mismatches, whether by pulling up for a shot or making a pass. With Luc leaving the paint, Patrick can take advantage of a cut for an effortless score. Standing at 6.6 feet tall, even Dennis would struggle to contain Patrick near the basket. Should the Bulls' defense collapse, we'll move the ball around for mid-range shots—maintaining consistency is crucial."

Seemingly simple strategies prompted a thrill in Jeff. "And the bench offense?"

"The same principle," Jerry asserted. "Employ screens to create mismatches, and space the court with dependable perimeter shooters. Luckily, the New York Knicks have the perfect personnel for this strategy. Starks, the first player in NBA history to make two hundred three-pointers in a season, is poised for success."

Jeff grinned and applauded. "Great!"

Tom and Ken glowered, their strategies seeming trivial by comparison. Jerry's directness had practically laid siege to their expertise.