Hawks head coach Ron Krueger turned his head in confusion, looking across at Rivers standing on the opposite sideline.
'What in the world is this guy up to?'
Perhaps because it was the second game of a back-to-back, the Magic came out looking awful.
Especially Tracy McGrady. Krueger could see the Magic were running their offense through him, but his shot was just ice-cold today.
He went 1 for 7 in the first quarter, only managing 4 points thanks to free throws.
But in the second quarter, McGrady's shot started to warm up. He hit a few in a row, leading the Magic on a run with unstoppable momentum, at one point cutting the lead to just 5 points.
But right at that moment, Rivers inexplicably called a full timeout.
When they came back, McGrady's hot hand was gone.
Moreover, Rivers subbed out their center, Michael Doriac, who had been playing reasonably well.
Mutombo's scoring ability might have been a bit weak, but he was an All-Star, after all.
A quick offensive burst, and the lead was back to 10 points.
Krueger just couldn't understand these moves. It was as if Rivers didn't want to win.
In the end, the score was 56 to 41. The Hawks, astoundingly, ended the half with a 15-point lead.
Krueger was dumbfounded. He was actually trying to lose this game.
Boos rained down from the stands.
Losing to teams like the Knicks or the Heat was one thing, but being down by 15 to the Hawks at the half? Who could tolerate that?
Hill stood up, listening to the arena-wide boos with a heart full of helplessness.
This was their own home court!
He walked over to the entrance of the players' tunnel, high-fiving the team as they came off the court.
"Tracy, it's alright. We'll get it back in the second half."
Tracy McGrady nodded, but then turned to glance at Rivers walking behind him. 'Has he lost his mind today? What was he thinking, calling a full timeout at a time like that?'
「Halftime.」
The fans didn't take the opportunity to leave their seats for a bathroom break. During the earlier timeout, the arena announcer had already revealed that Hill would be coming onto the court during halftime for a 3-on-3 game with a few kids from Saint Mark's Primary School.
Four shy children had already taken the court, all of them wearing Hill's number 33 jersey.
"Grant, let's go." The team's trainer, Buddy Geneat, walked over and handed him a pair of basketball shoes and a blue jersey. He would be leading the other two children.
Hill sighed. Hearing the fans in the stands cheering his name, how could he refuse? He had no choice but to take off his jacket and pull the jersey on.
Taking the basketball, the familiar feel in his hands gave Hill a strange sense of deja vu, as if from another lifetime.
He hadn't touched a ball in a very long time.
This was at Chen Yu's request, who wanted him to focus solely on rehabilitation and not rush into on-court drills.
He instinctively went into a between-the-legs dribble, the motion still fluid and skillful.
These moves were etched into his very bones.
In the press area under the basket, a swarm of reporters aimed their cameras at Hill.
"Look at him dribble. His body seems fine."
"As smooth as ever. I think he must be almost recovered."
The reporters murmured amongst themselves. At least from their perspective, there seemed to be nothing wrong with Hill's body.
On the court, the game had begun.
Hill was on Team A. He instinctively turned sideways to body up against Genet, then made a hand gesture, signaling a cut to the basket before flicking the ball into the paint.
A freckled child caught the ball and went up for a layup, but perhaps lacking strength, missed the shot.
Hill didn't mind, clapping to encourage him.
However, he soon noticed that the two kids on Team B seemed a bit more skilled.
After just a few possessions, Team B had taken the lead.
Genet even casually tossed in a three-pointer.
Hill couldn't help but glance at Genet. 'Are you trying to sabotage this? Isn't Team A supposed to win?'
Devos would only make the donation if Team A won.
Seeing Team A falling behind, Hill didn't hesitate, raising up for a three-pointer of his own.
Genet only made a token gesture of putting a hand up.
Even though Hill was still wearing his slacks, a shot with no defensive pressure was still right on target.
He high-fived the two kids in celebration.
But then, it seemed like Genet started playing for real.
He used a crossover to get past a relatively stationary Hill, driving to the hoop for a layup.
"Buddy, what are you doing?" Hill said softly as they passed each other.
Genet just smiled and said nothing.
Hill glanced at the score. 'If we want to win, I should probably get a little more serious.'
He moved his left foot.
It was fine. No discomfort whatsoever.
'Maybe trying a little harder won't be a problem.'
'I can't let these two kids down, after all.'
'Besides, a 100,000 US dollar donation is on the line.'
With that in mind, Hill executed a hard dribble, pulled the ball to his left, and jumped for another three-pointer.
Swish!
Hill didn't make the moves too explosive, worried about his left ankle.
But the moment he landed, Hill felt no pain at all.
It felt as if his left ankle had never been injured.
Applause washed over him from the stands like a tide.
Genet was also clapping for Hill.
That shot boosted Hill's confidence. It seemed that slightly bigger movements were also fine.
With that, Hill felt reassured.
Genet wasn't a professional player, after all. With Hill mixing passes and shots, he led Team A to quickly catch up.
In the end, he even used a front crossover, drove to the basket, and hit a game-winning layup.
That single play sent the entire arena into a frenzy.
For a moment, many fans saw a vision of the old Hill—light, agile, and quick as lightning.
Even Hill himself found it incredible as he landed. He was only just now realizing how well his body had recovered.
In that instant, the confidence that came from being in control of his body even made him consider going for a dunk.
Amidst the cheers of the entire arena, Devos came onto the court and, together with Hill, presented a large check for one hundred thousand US dollars to the representative from Saint Mark's Primary School.
In the stands, some of the more sentimental fans were even moved to tears.
The charity event was, by all accounts, a complete success.
When an NBC reporter came on the court to interview Hill, they asked how his recovery was going.
Hill didn't think too deeply before answering, "My recovery is going very well. I'm working hard to get back on the court."
He was excited inside, too.
This was the first time he had directly experienced just how effective Chen Yu's rehabilitation therapy was.
Unfortunately, the rest of the game wasn't nearly as successful as the event.
When the second half began, Tracy McGrady was surprisingly on the bench.
"Tracy, what's wrong?" Hill asked nervously from the back of the bench.
'I'm already injured, we can't have McGrady getting hurt too.'
Tracy McGrady shook his head. "It's nothing, just some soreness in my arm. Joe told me not to play anymore." During halftime, Billings had checked his arm again.
"Then get some good rest." Hill patted McGrady's shoulder, not thinking much of it.
Already down by 15, the Magic were even more helpless with McGrady off the court. The lead once ballooned to 20 points.
However, near the end of the third quarter, Mike Miller drained two consecutive three-pointers, closing the gap a little.
But in the fourth quarter, Rivers subbed him out immediately, leaving only two starters on the floor as if he had given up on the game.
Sitting on the bench, even Hill was getting anxious watching this. 'There's still a whole quarter left, they can still make a comeback!'
But it was no use. The final buzzer sounded, and the game was over.
101 to 78.
The Hawks beat the Magic by a whopping 23 points.
In truth, the Hawks didn't even play that well; it was just that the Magic's performance was even worse.
Hill sat frozen, his brows knitted tightly together.
The Hawks!
He knew the team's record was terrible and they had lost a lot of games, but they couldn't keep sinking to new lows. Losing to a team like the Hawks, who were actively trying to tank? And by a full 23 points, no less! Who was left to lose to?
There's no one left to lose to!
Just then, someone in the stands started a chant, and more and more people joined in.
Finally, a single voice echoed through the entire arena of seventeen thousand people like a thundering tsunami.
"Hill, come back! We need you!"
The color drained from Hill's face.