What kind of player was Hakeem Olajuwon, known as "The Dream"?
Ask the other great centers of the '90s, and they'd all have stories to tell.
David Robinson—at the height of his MVP season—had been completely dismantled by The Dream in the playoffs. His stat lines that year looked incredible until Olajuwon arrived and sent him home, dimming the shine of that MVP trophy overnight.
Shaquille O'Neal—young, powerful, and making his first trip to the Finals—was welcomed to the big stage with a swift, brutal sweep. Four straight losses, and Hakeem walking off the court as champion.
Even Patrick Ewing—the "King of New York"—had made it all the way to the Finals in Jordan's absence, only to run into his old nightmare again. Seven games later, Olajuwon was the one holding the trophy.
Among the "big four" centers of the era, Olajuwon's dominance was unmatched.
Which is exactly why tonight's matchup between the Houston Rockets and the Los Angeles Lakers had the attention of every elite big man in the league.
In Vancouver, Shaq—still new to the NBA's grind—sat in front of the TV, his frame hunched forward, eyes locked on the broadcast.
In New York, Ewing leaned against a padded wall in the Knicks' practice facility, sweat still fresh from drills, his gaze fixed on the screen.
Everyone wanted to see how Alex Mo—the Lakers' rising force—would handle The Dream's legendary footwork.
Houston, Texas – Compaq Center
The crowd roared as the camera panned across the hardwood.
"Hello, basketball fans! Welcome to tonight's live broadcast of the NBA matchup between the Houston Rockets and the Los Angeles Lakers!"
The voice of the commentator carried over the noise. His tone was excited but professional. "This game needs no introduction—it's a clash of styles, youth versus experience, and speed versus skill. And at the center of it all: Hakeem Olajuwon against Alex Mo."
The co-commentator chuckled. "What I'm looking forward to is whether Alex can survive those Dream Shakes without getting completely spun around. You know how it is—Olajuwon has made some of the league's greatest defenders look like they're chasing shadows."
The broadcast replayed a slow-motion clip of The Dream's footwork—a smooth fake left, pivot right, spin, and fadeaway—poetry in motion.
"Once Hakeem gets you moving the wrong way," the commentator added, "you're done."
Meanwhile, across the country in the Shanghai Sharks training facility, a young Yao Ming was shoveling rice into his mouth between drills. His coach stood nearby, eyes on the television mounted in the corner.
"Watch this game carefully," the coach said, pointing toward the screen. "Olajuwon's footwork is something every big man should study. If you can master even a fraction of it, you can dominate the paint for years."
Yao looked up, curious. "You think Alex Mo can handle him?"
The coach hesitated, a small smile playing at his lips. "Alex Mo is strong. He's quick. But The Dream's footwork? That's something else entirely."
Back in Houston…
The starters took the floor. With Ben Wallace still suspended, the Lakers started their usual five—except Robert Horry replaced Cedric Ceballos at forward.
The Rockets rolled out their core trio—Olajuwon, Clyde Drexler, and Charles Barkley—ready to test the young Lakers.
The opening tip went to Houston. Matt Maloney brought the ball up, and the crowd immediately knew what was coming.
First possession? The ball was going straight to Olajuwon.
Campbell tried to body him, but The Dream turned baseline, powered past him, and dunked with authority.
2–0 Rockets.
The commentators were quick to point out the difference. "Usually, Olajuwon might start with a soft hook or a fadeaway to find his rhythm. A dunk on the first possession? That's a statement."
But the Lakers weren't rattled. Allen Iverson took the inbound, blew past the halfcourt line, and found Alex Mo streaking down the lane. Mo caught the pass mid-air and hammered it home.
2–2.
The young Lakers weren't here to watch a clinic—they were here to give one.
Coaches' Minds at Work
On the Rockets sideline, Coach Tomjanovich was already signaling adjustments. His game plan was clear—slow the Lakers' pace, force them into half-court sets, and let Olajuwon go to work.
On the other end, Lakers coach Del Harris—"The Silver Fox"—sat calmly, arms folded, eyes sharp. He'd anticipated every early look Houston had thrown at them. His plan was equally simple: run them into the ground. The Rockets' core might be brilliant, but they were older, heavier, and couldn't match the Lakers' speed for 48 minutes.
This was more than just a basketball game—it was a chess match between two brilliant coaches, with two very different kings on the board.
The game quickly turned physical. Drexler hit a contested mid-range jumper over Byron Scott, only for Alex Mo to answer with a silky euro step through traffic for a dunk before Olajuwon could recover.
But Houston wasn't just leaning on Olajuwon's offense. They turned up the defensive pressure full court, forcing the Lakers to burn seconds just getting into their sets.
The pace slowed. The Rockets began feeding The Dream more often. And then came the moment everyone had been waiting for—Olajuwon caught the ball on the low block, Campbell draped on him, and Alex Mo shaded from the weak side.
Fake left. Spin right. Step through.
The ball left Hakeem's hands—
SMACK!
Alex Mo had closed the gap in a blink, swatting the ball clean off the glass. The Compaq Center gasped as the Lakers secured the rebound.
"How did he even get back there?!" the commentator shouted. "He was on the perimeter a second ago!"
It wasn't just speed—it was anticipation, the kind you couldn't teach.
Coach Tomjanovich's jaw tightened. He knew this game was going to be different than the last time these teams met. Back then, the Lakers didn't have Alex Mo in the lineup. Tonight, they did—and the Silver Fox was playing his hand to perfection.
For the first time, Tomjanovich recalculated his odds. This wasn't going to be the easy Western Conference preview win he'd expected.
And Alex Mo? He wasn't just surviving The Dream's footwork—he was answering it with dominance of his own.