Sports Medicine Master System

The Spurs called a timeout.

Popovich stood with his arms crossed, his expression stern and grim as he looked at the players gathering around him.

He wasn’t exactly a good-tempered person.

With the opponent’s star player out, he had ten thousand reasons to chew them out for the game being this close.

But reason won out.

If they were going to lose this game, it wasn’t entirely because the Spurs were slacking or playing poorly.

The truth was, their opponents were playing out of their minds today.

From three-point range, the Pioneers had somehow shot 14 for 23, a terrifying field goal percentage of over fifty percent.

The Spurs had also been practicing their threes all season with the help of Chen Yu’s team, but they’d never been this accurate.

Besides, the entire Pioneers team was playing with an all-out ferocity, their morale was soaring, and they were truly fighting for their lives.

Nash’s injury had clearly ignited the fighting spirit of these young Pioneers!

"Tim, it’s up to you." As the timeout was about to end, Popovich finally spoke, looking toward Duncan.

When they were truly in a desperate situation, the Spurs’ strategy was simple: give the ball to Duncan, whose meniscus was now healed.

Actually, there was another option.

Popovich glanced at Ginobili out of the corner of his eye, whose hair was growing thinner and thinner.

’He’s so young, yet for some reason, he’s already starting to go bald.’

But this season, Ginobili had often been the one to break the deadlock when the game was at a stalemate.

He had the ability to get more excited the tougher the game became.

But at a time like this, Popovich clearly still trusted Duncan more.

Duncan nodded, his face devoid of expression.

「Back from the timeout.」

Everyone spread out. Duncan backed down Milicic, then created space to face the basket. He faked a drive, took two steps into a jump stop, and raised the ball as if to shoot, throwing Milicic off balance.

But Milicic’s reaction was extremely fast; he quickly recovered and lunged forward.

But it was another fake. Duncan pulled the ball back as if for a hook shot, then brought it down again. He dodged the lunging Milicic and stepped through for a smooth layup.

A textbook Dream Shake.

It wasn’t Olajuwon’s patented move, either. Any top-tier big man in the league with decent low-post footwork could do it.

You could only say that Duncan’s moves were smooth, while Milicic was still a bit lacking in experience.

They’d gotten two points back, but it wasn’t over yet.

To catch up, they had to get a stop.

The Spurs went into a full-court press, and the Pioneers made a mistake. Ginobili shot out like a phantom, leaped, and tipped away Iguodala’s pass.

Bowen dove for it without hesitation, slapping the ball back inbounds while in mid-air before crashing behind the scorer’s table with a loud CLATTER.

Parker dribbled down the court at lightning speed, made a difficult behind-the-back move to evade Larry Hughes, and pulled up for the shot.

A three-pointer!

His release was too rushed, and it wasn’t a good shot selection.

But the ball swished straight through the net!

to 89. In just forty seconds, the Spurs had somehow clawed back 5 points.

On the sideline, an exasperated Rivers spun in a circle, cursing up a storm.

He immediately signaled for a timeout, then glanced at Chen Yu, who was sitting next to Nash.

Parker wasn’t a great outside shooter. His three-point attempts were limited, averaging only two or three per game for the season. His percentage wasn’t high either—just over thirty percent—and most of his attempts were wide open.

Three-pointers really weren’t a major part of his skill set.

But this season, Parker was averaging 3.1 attempts per game and shooting 37 percent.

He had barely reached the level of a decent outside shooter.

And the reason for this? The help from Chen Yu’s team.

The Spurs’ three-point attempts and shooting percentage had both seen a significant increase this season.

The players came off the court. Bowen clutched his ribs as he climbed up from behind the scorer’s table; his left side had been jabbed by a computer monitor.

That guy played dirty, but he also gave it his all.

As everyone gathered together, Rivers’s gaze swept over them all before landing on Milicic.

Milicic was panting heavily, clearly having pushed himself to his limit.

His opponent wasn’t just some nobody—it was Duncan!

Not only had he not been destroyed by Duncan, but he had also managed to limit him and score nearly 30 points against his defense. What more could Rivers say?

"Joe."

Rivers placed both hands on Joe Johnson’s shoulders, his expression incredibly grave. "You need to step up. Others might not know it, but I believe you have what it takes. You can get us points. As long as we keep scoring, we can win this game!"

The game had reached its decisive moment. Their only choice was to attack the opponent’s weak spots.

Milicic was exhausted, and Randolph hadn’t been playing well in this game either.

It wasn’t that Randolph couldn’t handle an almost forty-year-old Mutombo; the main issue was Duncan’s superb help defense.

On the wing, Iguodala wasn’t able to score against Bowen’s defense.

On the perimeter, Larry Hughes was an inconsistent shooter. As a player who relied on driving to the basket, he couldn’t shake the equally fast Parker, and if he did get into the paint, he’d have to face Duncan’s help defense.

That only left Joe Johnson.

In the final stretch, Popovich had already taken Little Barry out of the game.

As for Ginobili, his defense was decent. He had quick hands, good anticipation, and most importantly, he knew how to sell a call.

However, with his height and weight, he couldn’t really defend a player like Joe Johnson, a swingman who could post up with the ball.

So, after thinking it over and over, Rivers concluded this was the opponent’s only weakness.

"Steve is still recovering, but he came all the way here to watch. And I can tell you for a fact, he will be back for the next game. If we win this one, the series will be tied 2-2. When Steve returns, we can still win."

"Everyone, if we beat the Spurs, everyone will remember us!"

Rivers looked around at the team.

There are no salaries in the playoffs, and the prize money is limited. For the veterans, you could say they’re chasing glory.

But for the young players, there’s only one reason to play their hearts out in the playoffs: to put on a good show and go after a big contract.

Just like Milicic. Even ten years from now, fans might still remember this game, where he dropped nearly 30 points on Duncan’s head.

High-stakes games are where you show your true skills. You might even run into a blind GM who gets excited and throws a huge contract at you.

Joe Johnson nodded, his expression calm.

"Let’s go!"

Rivers clapped his hands and waved the players back onto the court.

Another full-court press. It took the Pioneers 11 seconds just to get the ball past half-court.

The ball ended up in Joe Johnson’s hands, and everyone quickly spread out.

Seconds ticked by. The entire arena fell silent. With all eyes on him, Joe Johnson backed down Ginobili.

He was taller and, at 107 kilograms, outweighed Ginobili by nearly 15 kilograms.

This was his advantage.

Joe Johnson silently counted down the shot clock in his head. Just as time was about to expire and Parker couldn’t resist coming over to double-team, he made his move. He took a dribble, leaned back, gave a little shimmy, and hit a turnaround jumper.

He didn’t jump very high, but the post-up move had already created enough space for his shot.

As expected, it was nothing but net.

On the sideline, Rivers pumped his fist in excitement, then immediately started yelling at his team on the court to play defense.

In the crucial moment, Milicic came up big again.

As Ginobili twisted his body and drove into the paint for a floater, Milicic came flying in. He leaped, raised his arm high, and with his head level with the rim, pinned the ball against the backboard.

An absolutely critical block!

On the sideline, Popovich’s heart skipped a beat.

There was just over a minute left.

It was Joe Johnson again.

Milicic set up for a jumper at the high post, pump-faked, then threw a wide swing pass.

Iguodala started to drive but was cut off by Bowen, so he stopped short and passed it back.

On the wing, Joe Johnson came rushing in.

Ginobili was a step slow.

Joe Johnson took the shot—a long two-pointer with his foot on the line—and nailed it! In again!

The entire arena instantly erupted.

Even the ever-steady Joe Johnson couldn’t help but beat his chest and roar at the sky.

Those two shots were priceless!