NBA's Monster Rookie

Chapter Six Nemesis

On November 23, 1996, the Los Angeles Clippers hosted the Chicago Bulls.

This was Arthur Thorne's sixth career game, but everyone knew it was no ordinary regular season game.

The Chicago Bulls, a dynasty team that has won four championships in the past five seasons. Michael Jordan, the basketball god, just led the Bulls to a historic 72-win season last year and defeated the SuperSonics in the Finals, completing the first step of their second three-peat.

Before the game, the atmosphere outside the arena was like that of a playoff game. Scalped tickets were five times more expensive, ESPN sent a nationwide broadcast team, and even news outlets that don't usually cover basketball sent reporters.

Because everyone wants to see one thing: the data monster versus the real god.

While Arthur was changing in the locker room, Brent Barry came over and sat down next to him.

"Hey Rookie, are you nervous playing against Jordan for the first time?"

Arthur tied his shoelaces and looked up. "Why should I be nervous?"

Barry paused for a moment, then laughed. "That's true, you're not even afraid of O'Neal and Malone. But Jordan is different. He'd devour you alive on the court."

"Let him give it a try," Arthur said, standing up and walking toward the players' tunnel.

During the pre-game warm-up, Jordan shot a basket on the other side. His movements were exactly the same as they were twenty years ago: a sudden stop, a fadeaway, and a shot—every move looked like it was copied from a textbook.

Arthur took several three-pointers and made them all. Jordan glanced up, expressionless, and continued shooting.

Game start.

During the jump ball, Arthur easily passed the ball to his teammate. On the Clippers' first possession, Arthur called for the ball in the low post, guarded by Bulls center Luke Longley, a 218cm tall, 120kg Australian white man.

Arthur dribbled with his back to the basket, and Longley took a half-step back. Arthur turned and hooked the ball in.

The Bulls are on offense. Jordan receives the ball at the right 45-degree angle, facing Clippers defender Malik Healy. Jordan takes a jab step, and Healy takes a half-step back. In that half-step, Jordan jumps, leans back, and releases a shot. The ball goes in.

The entire movement was as fluid as a river flowing over stones.

In the first quarter, Arthur and Jordan engaged in a scoring duel. Arthur used his height and strength to overpower Longley in the low post, while Jordan used his skill and experience to outmaneuver the Clippers' defense from the perimeter.

Arthur scored 15 points in the quarter, and Jordan scored 14 points. The Clippers led 28-26 by two points.

But Jordan's terrifying quality was never his scoring.

In the second quarter, Jordan began to defend Arthur.

This wasn't the coach's arrangement; it was Jordan's own decision. During a timeout, he walked up to head coach Phil Jackson and said, "I'll guard him."

Jackson glanced at Jordan and nodded. He knew Jordan all too well—when Jordan volunteered to guard an opponent, it meant he considered that person a real threat.

Jordan's defense against Arthur was unlike anyone else's.

Instead of flanking or double-teaming, he began applying pressure before Arthur even received the ball. He pressed his chest against Arthur's waist, interfered with his receiving route with his arms, and mentally eroded him with trash talk.

"Your stats look good, kid," Jordan whispered in Arthur's ear, "but stats won't win you games."

For the first time, Arthur felt an unfamiliar pressure on the court. It wasn't the physical difference in strength between Jordan and him, but the psychological one. Every defensive play by Jordan felt like he was telling you: You're not ready yet.

Arthur only took four shots in the second quarter, making two and committing two turnovers.

At halftime, the Clippers trailed by seven points, 51-58.

In the locker room, Coach Fitch spent a long time drawing on the tactics board before finally looking at Arthur.

"Thorne, you need to be more aggressive in the second half. When Jordan is guarding you, use your height advantage to shoot directly over him."

Arthur nodded, but his expression was more serious than ever.

At the start of the third quarter, Arthur, following the coach's instructions, shot directly over Jordan. He received the ball beyond the three-point line, faced Jordan's defense, and pulled up for a layup.

In the next round, in the same position, with the same defense, the same shot went in again.

Jordan's expression changed. Not with anger, but with something more terrifying—excitement.

"Good," Jordan said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "That's what I wanted to see."

Then Jordan began his most iconic offensive performance. He received the ball in the low post on the right, backed down his defender, faked out the defender, and then turned and faded for a layup. He dribbled at the top of the key, crossed over, pulled up for a jump shot, and scored. He received a pass from Pippen on a fast break, executed a reverse layup, and scored with a crossover.

In the third quarter, Jordan scored 20 points. Arthur scored 16 points in the quarter, but the Clippers were outscored 38-28 by the Bulls, widening the gap to 17 points.

In the fourth quarter, Arthur attempted a comeback. He hit two consecutive three-pointers, narrowing the gap to eleven points. Then, he blocked Pippen's layup on the defensive end, giving the Clippers a chance to take the lead.

But Jordan took over the game at the crucial moment. He hit a fadeaway jumper over Arthur, whose hand was already in his face, but Jordan's hang time was too long. He waited until Arthur started to fall before releasing the shot, and the ball swished through the net.

In the next possession, Jordan stole the Clippers' pass and scored with a fast break dunk. The point difference was back to fifteen.

With three minutes remaining in the game, Coach Fitch called a timeout, substituted his key players, and surrendered.

Final score: 112 to 98, the Clippers lost the game.

Arthur's stats: 41 points, 15 rebounds, 6 assists, and 4 blocks. He put up superstar-level numbers.

But Jordan's stats were even more terrifying: 45 points, 8 rebounds, 7 assists, and 3 steals. At 33, Jordan proved one thing to this 19-year-old rookie.

God, still God.

After the game, Arthur sat in the locker room, staring at the statistics sheet. He didn't speak, he wasn't angry, he just quietly looked at the numbers.

Forty-one points. Very good. But not enough.

Fitch came over and sat down next to him.

"You played very well, Arthur," Fitch said. "Jordan also acknowledged that you played very well. In his post-game interview, he said you were 'the hardest player to guard in the next decade.'"

Arthur looked up. "He spoke of 'the future'."

Fitch paused for a moment.

"He said I am the future," Arthur repeated, "but I want the present."

Fitch was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. "Then go get it."

Arthur stood up and walked towards the shower. After a few steps, he stopped and turned to look at Fitch.

"Coach, when is the next game against the Bulls?"

Fitch flipped through the schedule. "Next February. In Chicago."

Arthur nodded. "Remember this."

Then he went into the shower and closed the door.

Late that night, ESPN's SportsCenter program dedicated a full fifteen minutes to reporting on the game.

The host and three guests debated a question: Is Arthur Thorne comparable to Michael Jordan?

One guest said, "He scored 41 points and grabbed 15 rebounds against one of the best teams in history. He was only 19 years old. Jordan was playing in the NCAA at North Carolina when he was 19."

Another guest said, "But he lost. Jordan never let anyone take his throne during his era. Today is proof of that."

The host interrupted their argument with a statement that has since been repeatedly quoted.

"What we're seeing today isn't just an ordinary regular season game. What we're seeing is a handover ceremony. Jordan hasn't handed it over yet, and Thorne hasn't received it. But the ceremony has already begun."

The scene cuts to the final moments of the fourth quarter, showing a slow-motion replay of Jordan hitting a fadeaway jumper over Arthur.

Then a line of text appeared at the bottom of the screen:

"The future has arrived. But the throne has not yet been relinquished."

After training ended the next day, Arthur did not leave the stadium.

He asked assistant coach Kim Hughes to stay behind and practice defensive footwork with him.

"Jordan's fakes were so realistic," Arthur said. "When he faked me out, even though I knew it was a fake, my body would still jump."

Hughes nodded. "That's because his weight shifts too naturally. What you need to train is not to jump."

"Not jumping?"

"Yes. Use your height and wingspan to disrupt him, not your jumping ability. Your standing reach is already higher than most people's when they jump. You don't need to jump."

Arthur was silent for a few seconds, then nodded.

He walked to the defensive training area and began practicing sliding steps, turning, raising his hands, and not jumping over and over again.

Watching from the sidelines, Hughes thought to himself: This 19-year-old, after playing a game with 41 points and 15 rebounds, the first thing he did was not to celebrate or rest, but to find his shortcomings.

What is he thinking?

Hughes couldn't help but ask.

Arthur stopped what he was doing and thought for a moment.

"I'm thinking," he said, "the next time I play against Jordan, I won't let him make that kind of shot over me again."

Then he continued training.

The stadium lights shone above him, stretching his 2.3-meter-tall figure very long, all the way to the baseline at the other end of the court.

It's like measuring a certain distance.

The distance from nineteen to thirty-three years old.

The distance from the future to the present.

The distance from challenger to the throne.

Arthur Thorne didn't know how far the distance was. But he knew one thing.

He will walk there step by step.