Lord, Please Save This Team

Xu Ling's answer to Ginobili might just be a contender for the best debut in NBA history. But the defending champions had a rhythm of their own. With Ginobili back on the floor, the Spurs had fielded their strongest lineup, and they began to display seasoned execution and a crafty, veteran pace. But the young Grizzlies, playing at home, showed no fear either. With the fearless edge of youth, they traded blows with their opponents in a high-speed shootout. Xu Ling continued his earlier form, becoming the brightest focus at FedExForum. He received a pass from Lowry at the right 45-degree angle and, facing Ginobili's close-out, rose without hesitation for a pull-up jumper, the ball snapping through the net. The next possession, Xu Ling again worked a play with Gasol at the top of the key. A graceful bounce pass cut through the defense, delivered precisely to Gasol rolling down the lane, setting him up to take flight for a thunderous dunk and completely igniting the home crowd. The Spurs likewise quickly regained their touch, and their half-court efficiency climbed sharply. Tony Parker seized nearly every transition opportunity. Lowry's defense was repeatedly exposed; sometimes even after he had clearly gotten back and set up, he would still be easily shaken by his man with a high-speed change of direction and a convincing head-fake turn. Parker didn't even need to wait for a break. He would suddenly accelerate in the half-court, sharply seizing the moment when the Grizzlies' frontcourt hadn't yet settled on defense, forcibly dragging the half-court into his own fast-break rhythm. The Spurs, now scoring from everywhere, had fully revived their offensive form. Even so, thanks to Xu Ling's outstanding single-quarter line of 10 points and 4 assists, and the hot shooting the whole team had maintained from the opening, the Grizzlies unexpectedly held the upper hand against the defending champions. 28-24 At the end of the first quarter, the Grizzlies led the Spurs by 4. Marc Iavaroni was largely satisfied with the team's first-quarter play. At the start of the second quarter, he made a rotation adjustment: bringing in Mike Miller for Xu Ling to rest for a bit, and sending in Darko Miličić at the same time. But puzzlingly, the player he pulled was not Pau Gasol, who had likewise logged nearly the entire first quarter, close to nine minutes, but Hakim Warrick. This substitution carried an inexplicable strangeness. If the goal was to rest the core players, Xu Ling and Gasol should have been rotated out together; instead, Xu Ling went to the bench while Gasol stayed on. More notably, once Miličić came in, he actually took on power-forward duties on both ends, forming "twin towers" with Gasol, a slow, spacing-poor lineup that seemed to run directly counter to the team's signature "Seven Seconds or Less" philosophy. Sure enough, the moment Xu Ling sat, the Grizzlies' offense seemed to instantly lose its backbone. Kyle Lowry looked indecisive, feeding the ball to Gasol for low-post isolation one moment and forcing it to Rudy Gay for a strong-side drive the next. The offense was disorganized and its results mediocre. On the other side, Manu Ginobili led the second unit and seized the momentum. The Argentine sliced through the Grizzlies' sluggish defense with surgical precision, now driving and dishing, now scoring himself. Behind the Spurs' flowing team play, the score was quickly closed and then overtaken. Seeing things going badly, Iavaroni turned and waved Xu Ling up. And so, after resting for just three and a half minutes, Xu Ling had to take the court again. This time, the player he replaced was Rudy Gay. Gay wore a sullen look. In truth, he had played acceptably tonight; it was just that after Xu Ling sat, the team suddenly lost its rhythm, and he was forced to take up his favorite one-on-one play again. But players like him, who love nothing more than isolation, mostly share one problem: inefficiency. In front of Bruce Bowen, Gay was like an amateur who had volunteered himself into Hojo Maki's room, offering himself up, utterly out of his depth and not worth a mention. The rhythm of a game is sometimes simply beyond grasping. In the opening stretch the Grizzlies had attacked like a tide, the whole team red-hot, and even when Popovich unleashed Ginobili, that "demon blade," he could barely hold them off for a time. At that moment, even a master tactician like Popovich racking his brains seemed no match for a "flash of inspiration" from a rookie coach like Iavaroni. He chose to let Gasol carry the load alone, just to buy Xu Ling some precious rest. Maybe next time he would understand that playing a core player the entire first quarter is not wise. But the rhythm already lost tonight, could it be recovered so easily? At least in the second quarter, it was completely gone. Xu Ling's first three-point attempt after re-entering rimmed out, and the Spurs seized the chance without hesitation to push a fast break, extending the lead further. Fortunately, veteran Mike Miller then came off a cut, caught the ball, and scored on a jumper. The Grizzlies' scoring drought ended there. They caught their breath, but the Spurs still held a commanding lead. The red-hot Ginobili showed no mercy in attacking Xu Ling, using a signature serpentine Eurostep to shake past him, driving into the lane for a layup. This was an opponent Xu Ling had never faced in college. Ginobili possessed everything a world-class player should have: delicate skills, a calm mentality, and rich big-game experience. Once he got going, even the finest defenders in the world could hardly stop him. Naturally, Xu Ling had no intention of falling behind. When the FedExForum fans saw him again stretch his hands for the ball on the perimeter, the stands erupted in excited screams. Yet, as always, he was immersed in his own rhythm; to him, the outside clamor was merely background noise from another dimension. Ginobili had already tasted Xu Ling's ability in the first quarter, and now he dared not slacken in the least. Xu Ling suddenly drove hard to the right; the burst of speed in that instant even made the liaison courtside, Roderick Craig, feel that Eli's first step seemed a few notches faster than in college. Though Ginobili had far more game experience than Xu Ling, this lightning-fast first step came down purely to talent. Xu Ling was no Rudy Gay; his burst of explosiveness was in no way dulled by any hitch in his dribble. In one step he left Ginobili behind, gathered the ball in two quick steps inside the three-point line, and rose for a jumper, the whole motion smooth and fluid. "Swish!" Ginobili nearly froze in place. On his way back on defense, Xu Ling lightly shook his shooting hand, as if loosening his wrist, but his eyes stayed locked on Ginobili. That gaze seemed to ask: Want another? Ginobili could only shrug helplessly. Unlike Xu Ling, he didn't have that freedom. The Spurs' tactical discipline and Popovich's authority would never allow him to demand the ball for isolation plays as Xu Ling did. If he dared break off for one-on-one play as casually as Xu Ling, Popovich's spit would probably wash his hair a hundred times over. Ginobili had no need to settle who was better than Xu Ling. As the side with the greater overall strength, once the Spurs seized control of the game, they steadily and reliably expanded their lead. Throughout the second quarter, they successfully dragged the Grizzlies into the rhythm they excelled at: a slow, intense, physically bruising grind. The Spurs' scoring wasn't explosive, but they always ensured that in this kind of pace, the opponent found it even harder to score than they did. The Grizzlies couldn't adapt to this pace at all, especially Xu Ling, who was used to a game that blew in and out like the wind. But the Spurs happened to be a team that let no wind blow through freely. Marc Iavaroni made one substitution after another, bringing in Lowry and then Jarrius Jackson, trying to reignite the firepower of the "SSOL" system, but with little to show for it. The Spurs had turned the tables and firmly controlled the situation. At halftime, the Spurs led the Grizzlies 54-47, a 7-point margin. Xu Ling had personally put up 18 points, 6 rebounds, and 5 assists in the half. For a rookie facing the defending champions, this was unquestionably a phenomenal performance. Yet such eye-catching numbers had not allowed the team to carry over its first-quarter lead. More tellingly, the distribution of Xu Ling's stats reflected precisely how effective the Spurs' adjustments had been: he had dished 4 assists in the first quarter and the team cruised; in the second he had only 1 assist, and the Spurs promptly turned the game around and pulled ahead. "Coach Marc Iavaroni wants to turn the Grizzlies into another Suns team," Kevin Harlan's magnetic voice carried across the globe through the TNT broadcast, "but Memphis doesn't have Steve Nash. You can't expect Kyle Lowry to suddenly become Nash. But they do have Eli Xu. The first-quarter lead came from Eli's all-around play. Coach Iavaroni has to find a way to let Eli play first-quarter basketball again!" At that point, his partner Doug Collins put forward a bold idea: "If it were me, I'd consider putting Eli at point guard directly. Like they did in the preseason. To my mind, that has more imagination to it than waiting for Lowry or Jackson to suddenly 'mutate' into another Nash." As a basketball analyst, Doug Collins's most clear-headed moments often came when he was no longer coaching. Putting Xu Ling at point guard was indeed a lineup change worth considering for the Grizzlies. Iavaroni had not done so in the first half mainly because he'd taken into account Xu Ling's hot shooting touch tonight and didn't want the playmaking burdens of the point guard to disrupt his offensive rhythm. However, the Spurs had proven over the entire second quarter that trying to beat them through individual efforts alone was futile. So Iavaroni hesitated no longer. "Eli," he announced loudly, "you're running point in the second half! We're taking our rhythm back!" "Really?" Darko Miličić cut in a bit flippantly. "Can we really take it back?" Rudy Gay naturally wouldn't miss any chance to pour cold water on Xu Ling. "Darko, what do you mean by that?" Gay immediately shot back, his voice mocking. "You don't believe in our Mr. Sixty Million?" Miličić shrugged, and though he seemed casual, every word was clear: "Of course I believe in him. I just don't quite believe in you, Rudy. After all, the ball is a lot more reassuring in his hands than in yours." Jackson and Lowry, both staunch supporters of Xu Ling, burst out laughing. Although it was a rather harsh thing to say, it unexpectedly eased the atmosphere in the locker room. Gay glared hard at Miličić, countless impulsive thoughts flashing through his mind, but in the end, Miličić's massive, polar-bear-like frame became the most realistic obstacle standing before any of those impulses. Xu Ling didn't join the others in mocking Gay, and of course he had no intention whatsoever of coming to the other's rescue. Those who humiliate others will be humiliated in return. Mr. Sixty Million had done nothing to provoke him, so why couldn't Gay keep his mouth shut? The Grizzlies held possession to open the second half. When Collins at the broadcast table saw that the Grizzlies' second-half starting lineup had no traditional point guard and that Mike Miller had been moved into the starting five, he exclaimed excitedly: "Here it comes! This is the moment we've been waiting for! Eli Xu is about to run the run-and-gun offense for real, as the point guard!" Before the ball was inbounded, Xu Ling lightly scuffed the floor with the red-and-black "Terminator 1" on his feet and, rarely, looked up at the stands. What met his gaze was an instant eruption of wild cheering. His gaze swept across the stands and settled on a huge poster: it captured the very moment he'd hit the buzzer-beater against the Florida Gators just before halftime of the national championship game, and beneath it ran a line of text: "Eli, my lord!" He had seen too many posters like this. Such over-the-top flattery was enough to make any young player's head swell, but to him it felt more like an invisible burden. He didn't want to think about how many fans would be heartbroken if he botched a game. Then he pulled all his attention back to the court. All along, Xu Ling had reviewed game film even more often than the coaching staff; he was used to summing up his gains and losses this way. And he had gradually come to realize that if he insisted on playing the role of Steve Nash, he might one day figure it out and become a true combo guard, but the price would very likely be the Grizzlies' season record collapsing entirely. He had no intention of dragging the entire team along while he leveled up. Given that, only one other way remained. Pau Gasol inbounded the ball, but heard Xu Ling say, "No rush to push it up." With that, Xu Ling left a puzzled-looking Gasol behind and sped alone toward the frontcourt. As soon as he reached the frontcourt, he raised a hand to signal, and Hakim Warrick quickly came up to set a pick-and-roll. Duncan and Oberto both chose to drop back in defense and guard against penetration, the most instinctive decision for a big man of that era. Xu Ling, without hesitation, instantly stepped back to create shooting space and rose for a three right in front of Duncan. "Swish!" Right after, Tony Parker sliced into the lane like a whirlwind, spun lightly, and finished with a layup, quickly answering for the Spurs. But before the Frenchman could even relish it, Xu Ling launched another attack. This time, he called for Mike Miller to come set the pick-and-roll. The play worked, and Parker was forced to switch onto Xu Ling. Without the slightest hesitation, Xu Ling gathered the ball against Parker's defense, rose up, and let fly a clean mid-range jumper, in again! The analysts' desk fell silent, everyone nearly struck dumb. This Mr. Sixty Million of the Grizzlies didn't seem bent on becoming the next Nash; he seemed more intent on proving to everyone that he had never picked the wrong template. In that moment, he truly seemed determined to walk Kobe's path. Xu Ling brought the ball up a third time, still calmly calling for the pick-and-roll. This time the Spurs reacted decisively, and Bruce Bowen came out without hesitation to double-team. And this was exactly the moment Xu Ling had been waiting for. Without hesitation he drew the defense with himself, then with a flick of his wrist delivered a precise pass to a completely open Rudy Gay on the wing. Gay caught it, rose, and released; the open jumper dropped cleanly. That pass gave a glimpse of the wide court vision and unselfish style he had shown back in college. "Look at that!" Kevin Harlan laughed at the broadcast desk. "He actually passed to Rudy!" His partner Doug Collins instantly caught the reference and replied with humor: "After all, once the sun rises, Eli forgets all of yesterday's unpleasantness." On the sideline, however, Marc Iavaroni's expression gradually shifted from excitement to a trace of daze. He was faintly beginning to realize that what Xu Ling was running did not seem to be the SSOL system he had brought from Phoenix. But it was very effective. Not only that, this might be the most efficient way to use Xu Ling at the point guard spot. Simply put, it was giving him the ball and letting him control the game at his own rhythm. The reason this approach worked lay in the all-around threat Xu Ling posed after the pick-and-roll and his indiscriminate "targeting" of any defender. This was both the core skill he had honed into shape before he transmigrated and the way of playing that made him most comfortable. After three possessions, one fact grew ever clearer: Adidas's sixty million dollars was by no means wasted. Xu Ling could never become a player like Steve Nash, because his unselfishness was only on the surface; deep down, he had an absolute obsession with the ball. If needed, he could even keep his teammates from touching the ball for an entire quarter. Seeing the momentum gradually tipping toward the Grizzlies, Popovich decisively called a timeout and quickly made a substitution, pulling Tony Parker for Michael Finley and putting Manu Ginobili in as the primary ball-handler. This substitution not only made up for the Spurs' size disadvantage on the floor; the matchup adjustment that followed showed Popovich's greatest respect for the opponent. He sent out Bruce Bowen to guard Xu Ling directly. Coming out of the timeout, Duncan missed a post-up. When Xu Ling again called for the pick-and-roll to try to break free, Bowen's sneaky little maneuvers began to appear frequently. Xu Ling naturally knew how to use the home-court advantage. The very instant Bowen reached out to interfere again, Xu Ling quickly made a somewhat exaggerated reaction and leaped backward. The referee's whistle blew at once, calling a defensive foul on Bowen. Bowen was immediately furious. He'd spent his whole life catching hawks, and now a fledgling wet behind the ears had pecked him in the eye. What infuriated him more was that he'd already been chewed out by Popovich in the first quarter for defending Xu Ling poorly, and now the kid had conned him with a bit of acting, his temper flaring, he sneered mockingly: "Of that sixty million Adidas gave you, how much of it is paying for this acting?" "I learned this from Manu." Xu Ling's tone carried a note of helplessness. "If you want to blame someone, blame him." Bowen's face instantly darkened. Nearby, Mike Miller's heart tightened as he watched. "Rookie," during the inbound, Miller warned in a low voice, "I admire your guts, but there's really no need to provoke that bastard." Xu Ling countered, "What if I'm deliberately provoking him?" Miller smiled, but his brow was still furrowed: "Then you're really brave." Xu Ling wouldn't give Bowen too many chances to guard him one-on-one; what he wanted was for Bowen to focus his attention on him. Once Bowen concentrated on him, he might make mistakes in his other defensive choices. In that case, unless Bowen stopped acting human and, catching Xu Ling off guard, pulled off the "flying kick from out of nowhere" that Wally Szczerbiak had once been subjected to, it was still pretty safe. The sideline inbound went in; Xu Ling didn't call for a pick-and-roll, instead suddenly taking a hard step to blow past Bowen's right side! The step was faster than expected; even Duncan could only scramble back to protect the rim, barely preventing Xu Ling's direct score, but at the cost of his fourth personal foul. When he stepped to the free-throw line, Xu Ling's face was calm, and he sank both shots steadily. It could be said that everything in the third quarter was like a sudden ambush. The Spurs had not done too deep a pregame study of the Grizzlies, so naturally they hadn't made any specific plans targeting Xu Ling's habits. They were forced into a running battle, not only losing their 7-point lead but getting hit head-on by Xu Ling right at the start of the fourth quarter. Xu Ling went one-on-one against Bowen at the top of the key, using quick successive crossovers to shake loose half a step, then accelerated into the paint and, against Duncan's help defense, lofted a high floater off the glass that dropped. The Spurs urgently called a timeout. Popovich put Parker back in, effectively admitting that their defense tonight had no answer for Xu Ling. On the other side, Iavaroni also brought in Lowry, which meant the Xu-Ling-centered SSOL experiment had temporarily failed. Now the only clear tactic was to give the ball to Xu Ling and let him do as he pleased. Then Ginobili drove and drew a 2+1. Parker capitalized on Gay's missed isolation to push the fast break, and the Grizzlies responded quickly; Xu Ling drew the double-team and calmly distributed, passing to Warrick to attack the basket hard and drawing Duncan's fifth personal foul. With five fouls, Duncan pulled back noticeably on defense; Gasol seized the moment to attack him, muscling out space and throwing down a violent dunk, exactly the toughness fans had been waiting to see from him. Limited on defense, Duncan answered on offense, sinking a signature bank shot from the 45-degree angle. Xu Ling also took the opportunity to strengthen his playmaking; after a drive drew the help defense, he suddenly kicked it out to the weak side, and Lowry hit a mid-range jumper he didn't often use. And the Spurs' most reliable scorer tonight, Ginobili, stepped up again, drilling a cold-arrow three to tie the score once more. This back-and-forth struggle, neither side yielding, continued into the final minute of the game. The air seemed to have frozen; every possession felt clear and heavy, like slow motion. The players' breathing grew ragged, and there was no room for error in execution. 89-88 The Spurs led the Grizzlies by 1. Xu Ling calmly handled the ball on the perimeter, and the TNT screen displayed his stunning stat line for the night at just the right moment: 14-of-23 shooting, 36 points, 8 rebounds, 7 assists. At the broadcast desk, Doug Collins, the 1973 NBA No. 1 pick who had gone up against Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Wilt Chamberlain, coached Michael Jordan, and all but lived through the entire history of the modern NBA, pondered the stat line for a few seconds, then said gravely: "Is this the greatest debut since the merger? I wouldn't dare say for sure. But if Eli can lead the Grizzlies to beat the Spurs tonight, I'd absolutely cast my vote for him." Xu Ling's ball-handling kept the entire Spurs team on high alert. They both feared his pick-and-roll jumper and dreaded his passing vision, completely unable to predict his next move. Just then, Pau Gasol came up to set a screen, and a frustrated "Oh, damn!" came from the Spurs' bench. And Hakim Warrick had slipped in along the baseline like a ghost, cutting soundlessly toward the basket! Could Xu Ling see him? Yes, he saw him! With a flick of his wrist, Xu Ling tossed the ball toward the rim. But the ball's arc clearly wasn't a shot. It traced a precise guiding line straight toward the right side of the backboard! Warrick rose into the air as if defying gravity, caught the ball one-handed above everyone, and slammed it through the hoop! "BANG!!! Hakim Warrick throws it down!!! An alley-oop setup from Eli Xu, a thunderous dunk that all but kills the game!" 90-89 With just 39 seconds left, the Spurs decisively called a timeout. Popovich's face was calm; his pen tip tapped hard on the left low post of the tactics board, clearly designating the final possession for Tim Duncan. Coming out of the timeout, the Spurs successfully inbounded from the sideline, and Duncan caught the ball solidly on the left low post. He leaned into Gasol and posted up with his dribble; the entire FedExForum seemed to hold its breath. The instant Duncan turned to shoot, Xu Ling decisively abandoned his man and darted inside to help. His help defense provided an effective contest. Duncan's shot clipped the front rim and bounced out! "They got the stop! Memphis gets the crucial stop!" Kevin Harlan's voice had already gone hoarse from excitement. But the next moment, Duncan, with his uncanny rebounding instinct, desperately tipped the ball out beyond the three-point line amid the crowd, and it landed right to a completely unguarded Manu Ginobili. In that instant, Xu Ling was still under the basket. But Gay, who should have helped him, had chosen to leak out for the fast break the moment Duncan released the shot, and that led to a chain of errors. "No! It's Ginobili! He's wide open beyond the arc!!" Ginobili calmly adjusted and rose for the shot. "Swish!!!" "Manu Ginobili!" Harlan screamed at the top of his lungs. "With 7 seconds left! The Argentine hits the three again, and this one all but rips through the heart of every Memphian!" Amid the roaring crowd, Doug Collins's voice cut in, calm yet razor-sharp: "A catastrophic defensive choice. Eli's help defense wasn't wrong, but Rudy Gay made a mistake no professional player can ever make. At the very moment after the opponent's shot, before the rebound was even decided, he was already thinking only about the fast break and completely abandoned his defensive responsibility. And the man he left open was Manu Ginobili, the last opponent on this floor you should ever lose track of tonight!" The Grizzlies immediately called a timeout. Xu Ling glanced at the scoreboard, then at Gay, who was walking toward the bench without looking back; he said nothing, only striding quickly toward the sideline. One of the good things about playing in the NBA was that the season was numbingly long. Whether you won tonight in breathtaking fashion or lost in a way that cut to the bone, it was only the matter of a single night. Tomorrow the sun would rise as usual, and there were still eighty-one games waiting for you. But at this moment, Marc Iavaroni was utterly unable to console himself with such a long-term perspective. He chewed his gum rapidly, his heart pounding so violently it seemed about to tear free of his chest at any moment. 7 seconds left, down by 2. The season's first game, against the defending champions; a win would have been the most perfect possible start. But could they still win? Iavaroni's gaze swept over his players, but his mind uncontrollably replayed Rudy Gay's foolish early leak-out again and again. When he had watched helplessly as Ginobili caught and shot from a totally open look, he had momentarily felt all hope fade. What to do? What on earth should he do now? Just as Iavaroni was so tense he was nearly speechless, he suddenly heard a voice that felt like salvation: "Coach." Iavaroni abruptly turned his head and saw Xu Ling standing before him, holding a paper cup filled with a translucent sports drink. Xu Ling held the cup out to him. "Drink some water and wipe your mouth." Xu Ling spoke with perfect composure. "I won't let you lose the first regular-season game of your coaching career." He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as though this weren't the first regular-season game of his own career too. In the cruel world of the NBA, once a head coach lost control of the game, it often meant the end of his coaching career. And when one day a player behaved with more certainty and more of a leader's presence than the coach, a silent transfer of power had already taken place in the shadows. A head coach who should have been the team's pillar, if he accepted a player's "protection" with an easy conscience, then the relationship between them could never return to a pure "coaching and being coached." That bond would ultimately transform into something else entirely. On that day, Marc Iavaroni did not fully realize what all of this meant for him. He only knew one thing: I'm panicking right now, but Eli makes me feel calm. I can trust Eli. I have to draw up a play for Eli, one where everyone gets the hell out of the way and gives the ball to him alone. The timeout ended. Xu Ling stood on the sideline and received the ball from Gasol, who was inbounding. The very instant he touched it, the restless atmosphere inside FedExForum suddenly changed. A silence, mixed with tension, anticipation, and absolute trust, pressed down heavily. Every spectator unconsciously held their breath, as if even the air had stopped moving. Their eyes followed intently the figure wearing the Grizzlies' No. 1 jersey. Bowen immediately closed out tightly. 6 seconds Xu Ling came to a hard stop at the left 45-degree angle and crossed the ball over. 3 seconds But it was at this moment that Bowen's drifting weight leapt up with Xu Ling's hesitation move; when Bowen was in the air but saw Xu Ling still on the ground, he knew it was all over. Xu Ling calmly gathered the ball, hopped back to two steps beyond the three-point line, and resolutely let it fly with just 0.8 seconds left on the game clock! Bowen turned back in shock and saw the ball spinning at high speed toward the rim as the final red light suddenly lit up. And that ball, like a precision-guided missile, bored straight through the heart of the net! "Swish!!!!" "BANG!!!!!!!" Kevin Harlan's roar instantly ripped through the arena. "Buzzer-beater! Buzzer-beater! Eli hit the buzzer-beating game-winner!!! He shot down the Spurs from beyond the three-point line! A great, great shot! Bruce Bowen and San Antonio's entire night of effort, gone in this instant! Memphis! Take off your hats and bow to your king!!!" Bowen cursed the instant the shot went in. Then he heard Xu Ling behind him shout at him: "This is why Adidas gave me sixty million dollars!" Before the words even finished, Xu Ling was completely swallowed by his teammates surging madly in. Gasol, Lowry, Miller, nearly the whole team roared and piled on, shoving him to the floor as if to seize the magic of victory from his body. Xu Ling was pinned at the very bottom of the pile. Through the gaps among swaying jerseys, sweat, and deafening shouts, his gaze pierced the churning limbs and seemed to touch the slogan on that huge poster not far away: "Eli, our savior, please save this team!" In that moment, the clamor suddenly receded into the distance.