The Olympic schedule was drawing to a close, set to end on October 1st, and China still hadn't secured a gold medal in track and field.
Their best chance came in the women's 20km race walk, where Liu Hongyu and Wang Liping were competing.
Liu Hongyu, the reigning champion of the 1999 World Cup and World Championships, was considered the favorite, China's "gold medal guarantee."
Wang Liping, meanwhile, had barely made the cut, sneaking in by winning three domestic championships and qualifying at the last possible moment.
On the afternoon of the 27th, after the Chinese men's basketball team finished training, Zhao Dong approached Coach Jiang and Liu Yumin, who had been traveling with the team throughout the Olympics.
"Coach Jiang, Director Liu," Zhao said, smiling casually, "we've got training tomorrow morning, but why not relax a bit in the afternoon?"
Liu Yumin's brows furrowed. "Zhao Dong, are you feeling tired?" she asked nervously.
The quarterfinals were around the corner, and Zhao Dong was China's ace. If anything happened to him, the dream of a gold medal would shatter.
Zhao nodded, half-smiling. "Yeah, I'm a bit worn out. Honestly, the Olympic schedule's more intense than the NBA."
"Then rest," Liu Yumin said immediately. "Skip training tomorrow morning. Just warm up before tomorrow night's game."
Coach Jiang agreed without hesitation. With such a tight schedule, only light recovery training was necessary anyway.
Some of the players, though, looked puzzled. Dayao raised an eyebrow. Brother Dong tired? You're supposed to be an iron man. What's going on?
Zhao Dong clapped his hands, grinning. "How about we go cheer for another Chinese event tomorrow?"
"Sounds good, Brother Dong. Which one?" Dazhi asked.
"Women's 20km race walk," Zhao said decisively. "We've got a real shot at gold there. And don't forget—bring the national flag!"
The next morning, Zhao led his teammates through a half-hour recovery session and some light shooting practice before heading straight to the track and field stadium.
Liu Yumin, worried about Zhao's physical condition, personally accompanied them, bringing two staffers along with large bags of food and drinks. She even arranged tickets and handled logistics as if she were taking care of VIPs.
When the Chinese men's basketball team entered the venue, the crowd erupted. Fans cheered, and reporters rushed over, cameras flashing non-stop.
Under Liu Yumin's guidance, Zhao and his teammates entered the athletes' lounge.
"Director Liu? What are you doing here?" asked Zhang Qiang, leader of the race walking team, surprised to see her.
Zhang knew Liu Yumin well. As Director of the Basketball Management Center and head of the Dongcheng Training Base, she was one of the most powerful figures in Chinese sports. With the basketball team on the verge of winning gold, no one expected her to show up here.
"Lao Zhang," Liu Yumin said warmly, shaking his hand, "we're here to cheer for you. Look, our men's basketball team is here to support you too."
Zhang Qiang's jaw nearly dropped when he saw Zhao Dong and the other towering players enter.
"Captain Zhang, hello," Zhao said with an easy smile, shaking hands with Zhang Qiang, Liu Hongyu, and Wang Liping.
The race walking athletes were thrilled, their excitement written all over their faces.
After exchanging a few words of encouragement, Liu Yumin urged Zhao and his teammates to head to the stands. The race was about to start, and lingering in the lounge would only distract the athletes.
By the time they reached their seats, the competitors were already lining up at the starting line.
"Wave those flags high!" Zhao shouted, pulling a bright red five-star national flag from his backpack.
China's track and field program had struggled at these Olympics, and the sparse crowd didn't even bother bringing flags. Apart from Zhao and his teammates, no Chinese fans in the stands had a national flag.
In his previous life, Wang Liping had famously walked alone after winning gold, with no flag passed down from the stands. But not this time.
The dozen national flags held by the Chinese basketball team instantly drew attention. Reporters flocked to their section, snapping photos of the towering players waving flags and chanting.
At 11:30 AM, the gun fired, and the competitors set off, completing one lap around the track before heading onto the road course.
The pack quickly broke into groups, each forming according to strength.
As planned, Liu Hongyu stayed tucked into the middle of the lead group, conserving energy. Wang Liping paced herself a little further back, waiting for her chance.
By the 8km mark, Liu Hongyu surged to the front, taking the lead.
But almost immediately, a referee flashed a red card at her.
She frowned, puzzled, but as a seasoned world champion, she didn't panic. Confident in her technique, she held her pace and stayed in first.
At 14km, disaster struck again. Another red card.
This one shook her confidence. She slowed down slightly, dropping to third place to play it safe.
Two kilometers later, though, Liu Hongyu pushed hard again, regaining the lead.
But fate wasn't on her side.
At 16km, the referee raised a third red card.
Disqualified.
Tears streamed down Liu Hongyu's face as she left the course, less than 4km from the finish.
"It's over!" Zhao Dong muttered grimly, tightening his grip on the flagpole.
Seeing Liu Hongyu being disqualified, Wang Liping, who had been pacing behind her, was momentarily stunned.
Her goal at these Olympics was simple—finish in the top three. Winning a medal would already be a dream come true. But now, with her strongest teammate out, her confidence wavered.
The chaos didn't stop there.
At the 16km mark, Italian star Pironi, one of the leaders in the first group, was handed his third red card as well.
Pironi's temper flared. After throwing an angry glare at the officials, he refused to leave the course, stomping forward stubbornly as if defying the inevitable.
As one contender after another was sent off, the quiet and steady Wang Liping suddenly found herself moving up the rankings.
When Liu Hongyu was penalized at the 16th kilometer, Wang was still sitting in fifth place. With two top competitors removed, she climbed to third.
Only Italian Belluni and Australian Severi were ahead of her now.
Wang already had one red card to her name, and that fact weighed heavily on her mind. Sticking to her original goal of a podium finish, she adjusted her pace and slowed down, focusing on maintaining her form.
Her cautious approach widened the gap between her and the top two, but she didn't care.
The gold medal? That was never in her plans.
The bronze medal was within reach.
Back in the stadium, Zhang Qiang, leader of the race walking team, was pacing nervously.
When the news of Liu Hongyu's disqualification reached him, he slumped into his seat, devastated.
"It's over…" he muttered, his face pale.
"Lao Zhang, I've got other events to oversee. You stay here and keep an eye on them," said Liu Chong, leader of the entire track and field team, before quickly leaving.
But fate wasn't done throwing surprises.
At the 18th kilometer, with only two kilometers to go, Belluni was penalized and forced out.
"I'm in second? Silver?" Wang Liping's eyes widened in disbelief. Her heart raced.
Hold it together. Hold it together. Don't make a mistake now.
"My silver medal is locked in!" she whispered to herself, relief washing over her.
She kept her pace steady, sticking to her "follow the leader" strategy, content to trail Severi, who seemed destined for gold.
In the stands, the Chinese coaches were exchanging mixed reactions.
"Captain Zhang, Belluni's been sent off!" one of the race walking coaches shouted.
"I know…" Zhang Qiang replied, but his tone was flat. Silver was nice, but gold was everything. A hundred silvers weren't worth one gold medal.
Still, all eyes were now locked on Wang Liping.
The competitors approached the entrance of the stadium, the crowd roaring as the finish line came into view.
Severi's gold seemed inevitable. Wang Liping's silver felt secure.
But on this "red card day," fate struck again.
Just 200 meters from the finish line, Severi was handed her third red card.
The Australian stopped in shock, then left the course in tears.
The stadium erupted.
Wang Liping's mind went blank for a moment.
"Wait… if she's out… I'm in first? The gold… the gold is mine?" she whispered, almost not daring to believe it.
Her heart pounded as adrenaline surged. She glanced nervously over her shoulder.
The nearest competitor was still far behind.
"Move!" She exhaled sharply, finally relaxing.
With perfect form, she entered the stadium for the final 100 meters.
Each step felt surreal, like walking into a new life. The finish line drew closer, and with every stride, her heart swelled with pride.
---
"Here we go, here we go!" Zhao Dong roared from the stands, waving a massive five-star red flag. "I told you Wang Liping had it in her! Didn't I say she had gold in her?"
The rest of the Chinese men's basketball team joined in, waving flags and chanting loudly.
As Wang Liping crossed the finish line, her eyes instantly locked onto the dozen or so red flags waving in the stands.
Without hesitation, she sprinted straight toward Zhao Dong.
"Wang Liping! Take it and show them what gold looks like!" Zhao Dong leaned over the barrier, grinning as he wrapped her in a hug and draped the national flag over her shoulders.
In her previous life, Wang Liping's greatest regret had been winning gold without wearing the five-star red flag.
Not this time.
Clutching the flag tightly, tears streaming down her face, she began her victory lap around the stadium.
The crowd roared, cameras flashed, and for the first time in decades, China had struck gold in track and field.
---
That night, the Chinese men's basketball team returned to business, defeating Spain to advance to the semifinals.
The schedule was brutal—both semifinals were set for the following night, on September 29th.
China and the United States each crushed their opponents, setting up the ultimate showdown.
On October 1st, National Day, the men's basketball final would be held.
It was the last day of the Olympics, and the final gold medal event.
The entire country was glued to their TVs. The streets were quiet; even restaurants set up big screens.
The Chinese men's basketball team had declared from the start: "Gold or nothing."
And now, they were one game away.
The game was scheduled to start at 2 PM, but by 1 PM, the stadium was already packed.
A sea of five-star red flags blanketed the stands.
Athletes from other Chinese delegations came to cheer, while countless overseas Chinese fans had flown in just to witness this historic moment.
As the national anthem played and the players lined up for introductions, the arena thundered with chants of "China! China!"
Starting Lineups:
China: Yao Ming, Wang Zhizhi (Da Zhi), Li Nan, Hu Weidong, Zhao Dong
United States: Alonzo Mourning, Kevin Garnett, Ray Allen, Vince Carter, Jason Kidd
---
Pre-Game Tension
Inside the NBC commentary booth, veteran analyst Hubie Brown looked at the US starting lineup and sighed.
"Overall, we're giving up size from top to bottom," Hubie said, adjusting his headset. "Coach Tomjanovich is going small-ball, running a three-guard lineup. But let's be honest, that's basically admitting you can't stop Zhao Dong. He's gambling on offense versus offense."
Analyst Cook nodded grimly. "With this roster, we don't have a single guy who can guard Zhao Dong one-on-one. None. And doubling him? That hasn't worked for anyone yet."
Hubie chuckled dryly. "The problem is Zhao Dong's strongest weapon is his offense. Even the Lakers' best defensive schemes in the NBA couldn't stop him. Trying to go shot-for-shot with him? Bad idea."
Cook gave a bitter smile. "So what you're saying is… we're screwed either way? His mismatch on the perimeter is too big. Double him, he finds Yao Ming inside. Leave him single-covered, and he'll torch us. And don't forget Yao—Mourning can't limit him either."
Hubie added, "And if China runs that 2-1-2 zone again with Zhao Dong anchoring the middle? His help defense will wreck this offense. He covers ground faster than Garnett, and his timing's perfect. That's a nightmare."
Cook sighed heavily. "Then I guess the only hope is… pray he misses."
---
"Champion!"
At 2 PM sharp, the gold-medal game tipped off.
Before stepping on the court, Zhao Dong gathered his teammates in a tight huddle. Their hands stacked together, he shouted, "Champion!"
"Champion!" the whole team roared back.
The response was deafening. Nearly a thousand Chinese fans in the stands echoed the chant, shaking the arena. A sea of five-star red flags waved in unison.
The jump ball was between Yao Ming and Kevin Garnett.
"Tip-off… Yao wins it!" Sun Zhenping shouted from the CCTV booth as Zhao Dong secured the ball and pushed it upcourt.
Waiting for him was Ray Allen, sliding low in a defensive stance.
Allen, at 6'5" (196 cm) and 205 pounds, was one of the NBA's rising stars, averaging 22 points with 42% from deep. Quick feet, great athleticism, and underrated defense—he was no pushover. But he was giving up 20+ pounds to Zhao Dong.
The crowd held its breath as Zhao Dong sized him up.
"Here we go…" Xu Jicheng murmured.
With a quick crossover between the legs, Zhao Dong shifted left. Allen slid to cut him off. But in a flash, Zhao Dong spun the ball behind his back and exploded right.
"Too fast!" Sun Zhenping yelled.
The other four Chinese players cleared out, spacing the floor perfectly. Zhao Dong blew past Allen, accelerated through the arc, and drove hard to the rim.
Garnett and Mourning rotated off Yao and Da Zhi, rushing to contest.
But Zhao Dong was already airborne.
"Tomahawk!" Xu Jicheng screamed.
He cocked the ball high over his right shoulder like an axe and soared straight at the two big men.
"Bang!"
The three collided mid-air. Zhao Dong, using sheer power, bodied through both Garnett and Mourning, knocking them sideways. In one motion, he slammed the ball through the rim with a thunderous tomahawk dunk.
The basket rattled violently.
The arena erupted into chaos. Chinese fans went wild, flags whipping through the air.
"A statement dunk! Zhao Dong just put Garnett AND Mourning on a poster!" Sun Zhenping's voice cracked with excitement.
"Unbelievable! Two of the best defenders in the NBA just got bulldozed!" Xu Jicheng shouted. "And—wait—the referee's signaling a foul! Garnett gets hit with it. Zhao Dong gets an AND-ONE!"
On the court, Zhao Dong turned to Garnett and Mourning, who were still getting up, and taunted with a grin, "Defeated opponents… stop struggling. Just surrender already!"
"You bastard!" Garnett and Mourning shouted back in unison.
"Ha ha ha!" Zhao Dong, Yao, and Da Zhi laughed, high-fiving each other.
Zhao Dong calmly sank the free throw. China led 3–0.
The US took possession. Zhao Dong didn't press Kidd like in previous games; instead, China shifted into their signature 2-1-2 zone.
Zhao Dong dropped to the middle, his long wingspan disrupting passing lanes, while Hu Weidong picked up Kidd at the top.
"Smart adjustment," Hubie Brown commented. "Tomjanovich is running three guards, but Zhao Dong's playing center field in this zone. That's going to suffocate drives."
Kidd brought the ball up, using a fake pass to shake Hu Weidong before swinging it left.
Ray Allen cut hard to the lane, curling past Li Nan. Kidd threaded the pass perfectly.
Allen caught it in stride and rose for a mid-range jumper.
But Zhao Dong was already there.
He'd rotated from the weak side in a blink, his 6'9" frame closing the gap.
Allen released quickly, but Zhao Dong's presence forced him to alter the shot.
"Bang!"
The ball clanged off the rim. Zhao Dong turned, boxed out perfectly, and snatched the rebound over Garnett.
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