If the Bullets are the league's least reliant on three-pointers and worst from beyond the arc, then the Hornets might be the league's most three-point-dependent and most accurate from long range.
Here's a staggering statistic: the Hornets' team three-point shooting percentage this season stands at 42.8%!
This isn't just the best in the current era—if you disregard the number of attempts, it could even rank as the best in NBA history. Even the Golden State Warriors, who won three championships in four years, never surpassed 41.5% in their most accurate three-point shooting season.
The three-pointer is the Hornets' signature move. Yet right out of the gate, they were being shot to pieces by the Bullets' three-pointers. How could Dave Cowens stand for that?
His face turned stone-cold as he immediately called a timeout to adjust the lineup.
Lin Yu was speculating how Cowens would counter the Bullets' backcourt duo.
The reason Legler was shooting so comfortably from the start was the Hornets' embarrassingly poor backcourt defense.
Counting on the diminutive Muggsy Bogues to disrupt Legler's three-pointers during pick-and-roll defense was something straight out of fiction—utterly impossible in the real world.
One player stands 160 cm tall, the other 193 cm—anyone who's played basketball knows the gulf between them.
Little Bug's physique is like a human bone crusher. Before basketball, he trained in glue control, developing exceptionally thick lower limbs and impressive strength. This gives him some defensive edge against post-ups or drives.
But when guarding straight-on jump shots? That's where the awkwardness hits.
This was precisely why Lin Yu insisted on finding someone to run pick-and-rolls with Legler. The only way to counter the double pick-and-roll on the perimeter was to switch defenses, forcing Bogues to guard Legler.
If Legler were left alone to shoot a three-pointer, he'd have to face Dell Curry. Even though the elder Curry's defense wasn't top-tier, Legler would never get the kind of open looks he was currently hitting.
Lin Yu was sure the Hornets would pull out the "Little Bug" and bring in a taller perimeter defender.
Cowens' quick timeout ended swiftly, and both teams returned to the court.
Just as Lin Yu predicted, the "Little Bug" was substituted out, replaced by 38-year-old veteran Ricky Pierce.
Coaches who played professionally often carry traits from their playing days into their coaching styles. As a player, Cowens emphasized offense, which explains his reliance on the sharpshooting Pierce.
Had Onseld been in Cowens' position, he would have substituted in Tony Smith, the Hornets' younger, more defensive-minded guard.
This stark contrast in personnel strategies highlighted their respective strengths and weaknesses.
When play resumed, Lin Yu quickly spotted the anomaly: Cowens hadn't merely replaced the point guard. He'd also swapped the Hornets' power forward and center positions.
Means Mason was now playing center, guarding Big Ben.
Even though the opponent was white, Lin Yu couldn't help but applaud Cowens' tactical move.
Mason Jr. stands at 6'11", nearly matching Ben Wallace's height. He's also a muscular, big man with far superior rebounding ability compared to Divac. This season, he's averaging 11.4 rebounds per game, currently ranking third in the league behind only Rodman and Mutombo.
Of course, only 2.5 of Mason Jr.'s rebounds are offensive boards. If we're solely evaluating rebounding prowess, he might not necessarily outshine Lorenzen.
Cowens knew the team's deficit stemmed not just from perimeter defense but also from deadly interior rebounding. By pitting Mason against Big Ben, he reasoned his team wouldn't be outrebounded anymore.
Lin Yu applauded Cowens' adjustment, though he didn't honestly believe it would work.
Mason Jr.'s rebounding wasn't bad, but how could he possibly match Big Ben's otherworldly 104 strength rating? If he couldn't hold his ground in the paint, his rebounding would still be crushed by Big Ben.
The game resumed.
The Hornets' veteran Paul Pierce launched a three-pointer, sinking it with exquisite precision.
On the Bullets' possession, the perimeter duo remained active. Legler held off the shot, instead feeding the rolling Lillard for a layup attempt.
Under Stephen Curry's interference, Lillard's floater missed the mark.
The rebound surfaced. Big Ben flexed every muscle, locking horns with Mason in the paint.
Mason Jr. wasn't as fragile as Joerger or Divac, shattering at Ben's touch, but the pressure was immense. His gums were nearly bleeding, yet he couldn't budge Ben an inch.
As the ball descended, Ben, positioned advantageously, suddenly exerted force, shoving Mason Jr. aside and leaping to secure the rebound.
Before Flyer could leave the restricted area, Big Ben passed the ball back to him, allowing Flyer to score two points.
"Be careful, Ben. That Mason guy isn't someone to mess with."
"Those old New York hags can't play ball, so they resort to fighting. You gotta protect yourself."
Fly had entirely accepted Big Ben as one of his own. Seeing young Mason flustered and red-faced under Ben's pressure, he quietly warned him.
"But don't worry too much. I've got your back. If anything happens, stand behind me. He'll have to give me some face."
Ben felt Flyer's concern, still wearing that same dumb-grinning expression. He patted his massive biceps and chuckled, "I'm not scared of him."
Flyer sighed inwardly. If only Ben were a bit sharper. Who knew if this dim-witted ally would actually be valuable when it mattered?
...
Cowens' adjustments were paying off. Flycar and Legs couldn't replicate their court-dominating efficiency anymore. Veteran Pierce was excelling offensively, and with this shift in momentum, the situation was far better than when Little Bug was on the floor.
But Cowan clearly couldn't handle Big Ben. As the saying goes, whoever controls the boards controls the game—especially offensive rebounds. Every offensive rebound grabbed meant one more second-chance opportunity for his team. Even with lower shooting percentages, they could build a scoring advantage through sheer volume of attempts.
Throughout the entire first half, the Hornets barely made any substitutions. Lin Yu's side simply followed suit—their players were younger than their opponents, and if the Hornets weren't rushing to make changes, why should they?
An ordinary regular-season game turned into a battle fiercer than a playoff do-or-die match, fueled by the feud between Cousins and Onseld.
At halftime, Onseld followed the team into the locker room.
"Guys, you're killing it. We're up by eight at the break. Keep this momentum going in the second half—Cowens ain't stealing a win from my home court!"
"Ben, you're killing it."
Onseld ruffled Big Ben's hair affectionately, like a proud elder praising a grandchild who aced a test.
Lin Yu was also thrilled. The momentum was overwhelmingly in their favor—this was a game they were sure to win.
Flycar and Legler were in high spirits, too. Even though the defense had started targeting Legler's three-pointers, he had already sunk a whopping seven threes in the first half alone!
With a 7-for-11 three-point shooting percentage, if they let him keep shooting in the second half, breaking the NBA single-game three-point record tonight wouldn't be impossible.
Flyer's stats were equally dazzling: 14 points and 11 assists in just the first half. If things kept going smoothly, he could even reach the elite point guard milestone of 20 points and 20 assists.
According to the law of conservation on the court, smiles never disappear—they shift from one face to another.
Lin Yu and his teammates laughed, but Weber and the others couldn't muster a smile.
As the team's leaders and biggest stars, they should have been thrilled. But seeing their own meager stats made them unhappy.
Webber had managed just 5 points, two rebounds, one block, and one steal in the first half. Howard wasn't faring much better with 4 points, three rebounds, and one assist—hard to believe he'd just signed the first billion-dollar contract in history.
As the point guard, Flyer controlled the ball. Without him passing to Webber or Howard, the two struggled to get shots off.
Even when Big Ben grabbed an offensive rebound, he'd inevitably pass first to the point guard who'd covered for him.
Anselm, oblivious to the frustration etched on Webber and Howard's faces, kept heaping praise on Big Ben.
As the second half began, the Hornets' veterans started to falter. Their stamina plummeted rapidly, inevitably affecting their shooting touch.
By the midpoint of the third quarter, the 8-point deficit had ballooned to 14.
The Hornets' fate was sealed.
The Bullets fans in attendance were electrified. They suddenly realized that Lin Yu, this ridiculously young head coach, might actually have something special.
Since taking the helm, his decision to start Big Ben and Legler had produced otherworldly results. Especially tonight, they managed to dominate the entire game against a powerhouse like the Hornets.
Flying Car drove into the paint with the ball, poised to release a floater, when suddenly a massive block descended from above.
Big Ben swatted Flying Car's shot away, sending a wave of gasps through the crowd.
"Nice!"
"That's Big Ben's defense!"
Fans erupted in excitement, cheering wildly for Big Ben's defensive play.
Flying Car took the hard block and was secretly startled.
"This defense is imposing!"
Lin Yu watched Big Ben's performance from the sidelines, feeling a chill run down his spine.
Big Ben's defense wasn't just about blocks; it also dominated the boards. His presence doubled the pressure on the Bullets' interior.
Little Mason struggled desperately under the basket, but he was no match for Big Ben.
"Can't stop him. I really can't stop him."
Bitterness filled Little Mason's heart, yet he was utterly helpless.
Ben Wallace leapt into the air, ball cradled in his arms, preparing for his signature no-frills putback dunk.
Mason plowed forward with explosive force, driving his powerful right elbow straight into Wallace's ribs.
The blow delivered immense force. Even Wallace, with his thick skin and sturdy frame, was sent crashing to the floor. He lay motionless on the court, instantly rendered silent.