Chapter 91: Collapse of Belief, Easy Championship Victory

In the second game, the Knicks continued their off-ball screen tactics, looking for mismatched offensive opportunities.

The Jazz chose to tightly guard the three-point line and played small ball. Larry Johnson exploded, making catch-and-shoot jumpers, turnaround jumpers, and strong drives, becoming unstoppable.

Bryon Russell and Shandon Anderson couldn't match Johnson's strength, while Antoine Carr and Greg Foster were tall enough but couldn't defend against his drives. With Ostertag off the court, the Jazz's defense in the paint wasn't as tight.

With three shooters spreading the floor, the Jazz couldn't double-team Johnson. When Malone guarded Johnson, they couldn't secure the rebounds.

Johnson scored 30 points, grabbed 6 rebounds, and dished out 3 assists, while Houston added 24 points, 3 rebounds, and 2 assists, making them the key contributors to the team's victory.

Ben Wallace also shined, scoring 6 points, grabbing 17 rebounds, dishing out 2 assists, stealing 2 balls, and blocking 4 shots.

Starks had a poor shooting night, scoring only 13 points, falling behind his teammates in stats, and temporarily distancing himself from the Finals MVP.

With a score of 101-85, the Knicks led the series 2-0. The Jazz only had Malone consistently scoring, mostly from mid-range shots after pick-and-rolls.

In the third game, the Jazz returned home and tightly guarded Johnson, but then Houston started to go off.

The Knicks used the triangle offense, with Houston isolating against Hornacek, making turnaround jumpers and pull-up jumpers, fully unleashing his energy.

Hornacek, standing 6'3" and weighing 190 pounds, initially played as a point guard when he entered the league, making him a liability on defense at the shooting guard position. He had no answer for the red-hot Houston, whose jump shot release point was very high, making it difficult to contest.

The Jazz's perimeter players collectively went cold, and their poor performance was unbelievable. By halftime, they were already down by 31 points.

If Ewing were playing, the Knicks wouldn't have been able to defend the Jazz this well. Now, with three strong and fast big men, they were particularly good at defending the pick-and-roll.

In the second half, Sloan stuck to his old ways, relying on the pick-and-roll until the end.

The Jazz suffered a humiliating 40-point home defeat, 103-63, with Malone being the only player to score in double figures with 24 points.

This was the largest margin of victory in NBA Finals history. The previous record was set on June 5, 1978, when the Washington Bullets defeated the Seattle SuperSonics 117-82, a 35-point difference.

The Jazz players were utterly demoralized. Even the most clueless person could see that the Knicks' tactics perfectly countered the Jazz's strategy.

In the fourth game, the Jazz fought for pride, with Malone exploding for 34 points, 13 rebounds, and 4 assists.

The score was 99-92, but the Jazz still lost.

The Knicks had an overall shooting percentage of 46.1%, while the Jazz shot 50%. Both teams were similar in free throws, with the Knicks making 15 of 19 and the Jazz making 20 of 25. The Knicks slightly edged out in rebounds.

Looking at the stats, the Jazz had the advantage in shooting percentages but lost because of the three-point shots that Sloan despised. The Knicks made 14 of 31 three-pointers, while the Jazz made only 2 of 10.

When the final buzzer sounded, Sloan sat in his chair, unable to recover for a long time.

To him, this wasn't just a Finals loss; it felt like the collapse of his beliefs, a blow so severe that he began to question his life and consider abandoning his basketball philosophy.

Indeed, the closer you are to the basket, the higher the shooting percentage, but a higher two-point shooting percentage doesn't mean more points or wins. This is a simple math problem, and Sloan began to realize that not allowing his players to shoot more threes might be the reason the Jazz were easily defeated.

Van Gundy also had an epiphany this season. Last season, he had his players take more mid-range shots and fewer threes, mistaking this for the truth.

Van Gundy still found it hard to believe. Last season, the Knicks were embarrassingly reversed by the Heat 1-3. Now, they won the championship so easily? No setbacks, no significant challenges, even without the team's MVP.

Mike Breen even sighed, "This is the most lopsided Finals in the past 20 years."

The Knicks' coach and players took to the court to celebrate.

Thibodeau, disregarding his image, danced on the court with the youngest player on the team, Stephen Jackson.

Starks, Oakley, and Ewing all cried. They had experienced the 1994 Finals and endured too many failures and pains.

Oakley's tears were moving. Even tough guys have their moments of sadness. When he first entered the league, he was Jordan's most trusted teammate, but the Bulls traded him for "The Snake." When the Bulls won the championship, he was already with the Knicks and has been with them ever since.

The one who cried the hardest was Ewing, who didn't play but came to Salt Lake City with the team, sitting on the sidelines with crutches, cheering for his teammates.

Reporters interviewed the players and Van Gundy, leaving Yang Rui and Thibodeau on the sidelines as supporting characters in this scene.

This didn't affect Yang Rui's mood. In his two lifetimes, he had never been this excited.

This was the NBA. He had only been reborn for a year and already got a championship ring. Many people never get a ring in their lifetime, like the dejected Sloan and his disciples who just left the court.

Many players get a ring at 24, but a coach getting one at 24 is unprecedented. Yang Rui had a great start to his career, and fame was just a matter of time.

Thibodeau smiled and asked, "Jerry, do you think we can build a dynasty?"

This season's victory was too easy, and the Knicks seemed capable of being strong for many years. Even as an assistant coach, Thibodeau would be very satisfied if he could get a few more rings.

Contentment brings happiness, and Thibodeau always had a smile, which had a lot to do with his personality.

Yang Rui didn't plan to hide it from his friend and whispered with a smile, "I definitely won't be here next year, so I don't hope the Knicks build a dynasty."

Thibodeau was stunned, "Have teams reached out to you?"

"More than one," Yang Rui said proudly, not caring that reporters weren't paying attention to him. "I plan to talk to management before the break because I can't pass up the opportunity to be a head coach."

With the Knicks winning the championship, there was no reason for the Raptors not to come back. Yang Rui had proven his worth.

Thibodeau's smile faded as he looked at Yang Rui with mixed feelings of envy, jealousy, admiration, and a bit of anger.

He wasn't angry at Yang Rui but at himself.

A 24-year-old had worked for a year and smoothly upgraded to a head coach. Even if he joined a weak team, it was a significant step forward in life. Thibodeau, now 40, was complacent about easily getting a championship ring, a stark contrast.

He had little say in the coaching staff, mainly learning, which was a shameful reality.

Thibodeau glanced at Van Gundy, surrounded by reporters, and a thought involuntarily emerged—could the Knicks win another championship without Jerry Yang?

Most media and fans believed Van Gundy was the coach most responsible for the championship, but within the team, from management to players, who didn't know that Yang Rui was the one who changed the team?

"Tom, what are you daydreaming about? Come get your hat," Yang Rui laughed.

"Oh..."

In America, it's a tradition to give out hats during celebrations. Many sports events award championship hats or draft hats.

Houston won the Finals MVP with an average of 25 points per game; Ewing received the championship trophy from David Stern and held it high. The 1997-1998 season officially came to an end.