He jutted his chin toward the end of the bench.

Milicic sat there with his chin in his hands, staring into space.

Joe Dumars knew he was on weak ground, but he tried to placate Larry Brown. "No matter how good Little Sheep Su Xi is, his ceiling isn’t high. His playstyle is too dependent on the system. But Darko... he has the potential to become a superstar big man, on the level of Nowitzki, Weber, or Garnett..."

’Give me a break.’

Larry Brown turned away. He couldn’t be bothered to listen to such pie-in-the-sky nonsense; he wasn’t some fresh-faced coach in his thirties or forties. As far as he was concerned, Milicic just couldn’t step up. He wasn’t good enough, period!

With Su Xi off the court, the Pacers reverted to their old ways. The esteemed CBA alumnus, Mr. Fred Jones, was a jack of all trades with great athleticism—one of the Pacers’ three masters of the free-throw line dunk. But he couldn’t penetrate the defense. He was the type of player who could do a little bit of everything, but wasn’t an expert in anything. For Billups, playing against him was as easy as scrubbing off a month’s worth of grime—every time he went at him, he’d effortlessly strip a piece away.

Carlisle sat helplessly on the sideline. The team only had two point guards. Oftentimes, they even needed Artest to step in and run the point.

’If only Su Xi could play for 30 minutes, or even just 10 consecutive minutes at a time,’ he thought. ’How great would that be.’

The first quarter ended quickly, with the Pistons narrowing the deficit to 3 points.

The score was 20-23.

It was a typical defensive slugfest, and by their standards, this was a good shooting night. In their previous two matchups, the final scores were 83-77 and 69-75.

Unless you were a UFC enthusiast or a die-hard fan of defensive basketball, who would want to watch this? Neither team had a player with an aesthetically pleasing on-ball game.

On either of these two teams, Su Xi could be considered the player with the most beautiful and stylish game.

During the break between quarters, Kenny Smith said, "Su Xi and Yao Ming share a common weakness: poor stamina. But Su Xi and Yao are a bit different. Yao Ming is a superstar in the first quarter, a star in the second, an All-Star in the third, and by the end of the fourth... a moving pylon."

"Su Xi plays for a few minutes, then has to rest. Plays a few more minutes, then has to rest again. There’s no continuity!"

Barkley had nothing to add to that, simply nodding in agreement. "It’s the one thing holding Jack back from becoming a superstar," he said. "It’s like Ginobili. I don’t think Ginobili is any worse than the top shooting guards of his era, but his stamina isn’t great either."

This was a rare moment of agreement between them, but it didn’t last long.

"The Pistons will most likely win this game easily," Kenny Smith stated his prediction. "Little Sheep Su Xi is basically a one-trick pony, driving to the basket from the top of the arc. I’m confident Larry Brown and Ben Wallace will figure out how to shut him down. After all, you’re talking about the world’s best fundamental defensive coach and the world’s best interior defender."

"No! Kenny. I think Jack will squash them, whether they’re a fly or a tiger. He’s never told a lie," Barkley said resolutely.

"Never told a lie? So you really believe Scarlett Johansson kissed him after meeting him just twice? C’mon, she’s one of the most promising new talents in Hollywood. She’s beautiful, sexy, a great actress, and has a fantastic public image. Why would she fall for him after just two meetings? Because he’s handsome? Is Hollywood running out of handsome guys?"

Kenny Smith said, a bit spitefully, "I just didn’t feel like calling him out on it at the time."

"Someone like you would never understand true masculine charm. You were just a role player," Barkley retorted sarcastically.

That remark made Kenny Smith fly off the handle. "I have championship rings. You? Come on, Charles, I don’t mind watching you lose another bet. Let’s make one now. If the Pistons win tonight, what’s your price? Will you kiss a donkey’s left butt cheek? Or the right? Or maybe the ’flower’ in the middle?"

"I’m good with any of them. What about you, Kenny? If the Pacers win, what will you do? Kiss the donkey’s left butt cheek? The right? Or the ’flower’ in the middle?" Barkley shot back, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

The ratings instantly skyrocketed.

Earl Johnson, sitting between them, quickly stepped in to make a fair ruling, and the terms of the bet were quickly established.

If the Pistons win, Barkley has to kiss the donkey’s left butt cheek while wearing purple lipstick.

If the Pacers win, Smith has to kiss the donkey’s right butt cheek while wearing pink lipstick.

Seemed fair.

For the sake of ratings, buzz, and their own professional credibility, they had offered up their own lips, forging an intimate connection with the hindquarters of a donkey.

The bet quickly became the biggest highlight of the game.

BZZT!

The buzzer sounded, and the second quarter began.

Su Xi was still on the bench, recharging. His recovery rate was remarkable, but his overall stamina reserves were a constant headache for Carlisle and the staff. One of the athletic trainers had even suggested Su Xi gain weight by adding more body fat. But another trainer shot that idea down; in his opinion, Su Xi’s current weight-to-strength ratio was already perfect. What if gaining weight caused him to lose his current speed and explosiveness?

Fred Jones couldn’t contain Billups.

On the very first play, Billups drained a three-pointer. He had found his offensive rhythm.

The three-pointer sent the Detroit home crowd into a frenzy.

The score was tied.

The Pistons’ momentum was building.

Su Xi looked up at Carlisle, giving him a look that said he was ready to go in.

But Carlisle felt he could let Su Xi rest a bit longer. In his mind, as long as the Pistons’ lead didn’t grow beyond five points, he didn’t need to put Su Xi in.

Besides, both teams were playing at a relatively slow pace.

However, Fred Jones quickly turned the ball over. After a series of picture-perfect crossovers, he started to drive to the basket. He managed to get a step past his man, but Billups simply slapped the ball away.