In the first half, even though the Lakers had the Kobe-Shaq combo, their offense looked disjointed. Shaquille O'Neal struggled to dominate in the paint, and eventually, Kobe Bryant had to take over.
But even Kobe couldn't find much success breaking through. He was stonewalled by the first line of defense—Zhao Dong. Behind him stood Shawn Marion, and under the basket lurked both Fordson and Davis. Every drive meant facing a wall of five defenders. That kind of pressure forced Kobe into contested jumpers from the perimeter. And no matter how skilled he was, jump shots simply couldn't match the Trail Blazers' high-percentage offense inside.
Meanwhile, Zhao Dong relentlessly attacked O'Neal. Marion joined the assault, the two rotating their pressure nonstop, never giving Shaq a moment to breathe.
Defensively, O'Neal had been playing like a tired Ninja Turtle. By the six-minute mark, he snapped.
This time, Zhao Dong drew a double-team out on the wing, and Marion made a sharp off-ball cut. Zhao fired a crisp pass, and Marion exploded toward the rim, brimming with confidence.
That was the final straw for Shaq.
He yanked Marion down mid-air.
If Fordson hadn't caught him in time, Marion might've suffered a serious injury.
"BEEP!"
The referee's whistle cut through the chaos.
"What the hell, man?!" Zhao Dong roared. He had taken a hard hit from Shaq back in the first quarter and let it slide—after all, he was basically injury-proof. But Marion wasn't. He didn't have the same durability, and one bad fall could take him out of the game.
Zhao knew—this couldn't be tolerated.
As the leader of the team, he had to stand up. Letting it slide meant letting O'Neal get bolder. If he didn't act now, who would dare to attack the rim again?
"SHAQ!" he bellowed.
O'Neal turned just in time to see Zhao Dong charging at him like a freight train.
"What—?"
His words barely left his mouth before Zhao locked his throat and slammed him down with a powerful throw.
"BOOM!"
The hardwood echoed. O'Neal bounced off the court and lay there stunned, his eyes wide as dinner plates.
"Ohhhh!"
The entire arena erupted in gasps.
BEEP! BEEP! The referees frantically blew their whistles and rushed in.
Both teams swarmed the court in seconds.
"Oh, Zhao Dong's not holding back!" Barkley jumped from his seat on commentary. "Shaq tried to take out Marion, and Zhao's saying, 'You mess with my guy, you mess with me!'"
"Pull him back!" Phil Jackson shouted from the Lakers bench, momentarily rattled by the sudden fight.
David Stern, watching courtside, slapped his thigh in frustration.
Zhao Dong was finally pulled off Shaq.
Honestly, he had held back. If he'd thrown a punch instead, O'Neal might've left the game on a stretcher.
"Shaq! If you can't defend us, just admit it. Pull that dirty move again, and I'll wreck you next time!" Zhao shouted, pointing down at the dazed big man.
"Me?" O'Neal sat up, blinking, looking more confused than angry. You're the one who attacked me. You already have four titles, four MVPs, and four Finals MVPs. I've got nothing. You think my life's easy?!
With Commissioner Stern watching, the referees moved quickly to de-escalate. O'Neal was assessed a flagrant one, giving the Blazers two free throws and possession. Zhao Dong received a technical foul, resulting in one free throw and Lakers ball.
The penalty seemed to favor L.A. slightly, but given Zhao's retaliation and O'Neal's status, the call balanced perception with diplomacy.
"Shaq's foul was straight-up dangerous," Barkley said on the broadcast. "He already took a shot at Zhao in the first quarter, and now this? No wonder Zhao's fed up."
Kenny Smith chimed in, "Why'd Zhao use a wrestling move though? What if he just socked Shaq in the jaw?"
Barkley laughed. "Then they'd be scraping Shaq off the court with a shovel! He'd be on a flight to the hospital for a CT scan."
Smith grinned. "So that was mercy."
"Yeah. But if Shaq tries that again? Zhao might not be so gentle," Barkley warned.
Over on CCTV, Zhang Heli weighed in. "According to the league's rules for the restricted zone, verticality must be respected, and defenders cannot swing their elbows or leave their cylinder. Shaq completely ignored that and resorted to a dirty foul. Zhao Dong's retaliation? Understandable."
Su Qun added, "I doubt Shaq dares to do that again. If he does, the next fight will be for real, and it'll be the Lakers who suffer."
"One against twelve?" Zhang Heli laughed.
Once play resumed, O'Neal toned it down—but Zhao didn't.
He went right back to attacking Shaq, and Marion followed his lead.
With Eddie Jones joining the pressure, Shaq became hesitant. He was even knocked down by Zhao again, picked up his third personal foul, and was pulled from the game.
By halftime, the Trail Blazers had torn through the Lakers' interior and built up a 15-point lead.
The second half opened with the Lakers deploying their bench bigs to protect Shaq. But without O'Neal's interior presence, the offense crumbled. The Trail Blazers kept pushing.
Phil Jackson had no choice—he sent Shaq back in. But the onslaught continued.
Three minutes in, Shaq picked up foul number four. His defense vanished. He didn't even contest when Eddie Jones pulled up for a mid-range jumper right in his face.
On offense, Shaq's post presence declined as fatigue set in, and his efficiency tanked.
Jackson couldn't sub him out—the Lakers were already down 20. But keeping him in didn't help either. Without defense, O'Neal became a liability.
Fordson tightened the clamps. With Marion providing lightning-fast help defense, the Blazers ensured Shaq couldn't get close to the rim. His scoring vanished.
The Lakers crumbled.
By the end of the third quarter, the score difference ballooned to 23 points.
The fourth quarter was garbage time.
Despite a few late pushes, the Lakers had no comeback in them.
Final Score: 120–94.
Trail Blazers win Game 1 by 26 points.
Zhao Dong finished with a near-triple-double: 53 points, 11 rebounds, and 9 assists. He shot 20-of-25 from the field, most of them rim attacks, thanks to Shaq's poor defense. He also made 13-of-13 free throws, cementing one of the most dominant playoff performances in recent memory.
After the game, he was interviewed courtside.
"Zhao Dong, what's your take on O'Neal's two hard fouls tonight?" asked a reporter from Portland Sports Daily.
Zhao replied coolly, "Next time, I won't be a gentle and just toss him to the ground. I'll teach him a real lesson."
"Zhao, what are your expectations for Game 2?"
Before he could answer, O'Neal walked by and overheard the previous comment.
"Gentle?! You call that gentle? That slam nearly killed me!" he barked in protest.
Zhao waved him off. "Move it, foul machine."
Reporters burst out laughing as Shaq stormed away.
An hour later, both teams appeared at their post-game press conferences.
At the Lakers' post-game press conference, a local reporter cut straight to the point.
"O'Neal, why did you use a flagrant foul to defend?"
"I didn't mean to hurt anyone," O'Neal replied, trying to keep his tone calm.
"But you didn't take any steps to protect the players you pulled down," the reporter pressed coldly.
"I... I was too late," Shaq muttered, starting to stumble over his own excuses.
"Are you worried the Trail Blazers might retaliate with similar tactics?"
"Uh…"
The question struck a nerve. The idea of being on the receiving end of what he'd just dished out clearly shook O'Neal.
The reporter went in for the kill. "Zhao Dong just said that next time, he's not going to 'gently' put you on the floor."
"He wasn't gentle at all!" O'Neal protested, aggrieved. "I nearly cracked open my spine!"
On the sidelines, Lakers head coach Phil Jackson was already bracing himself for the inevitable.
"Coach Jackson," another reporter began, "The Lakers tied with the Trail Blazers in the regular season. Why did your team lose so badly today, despite such a strong roster?"
Phil rubbed his forehead, weary. "It's obvious. Zhao Dong went straight at Shaq, and we didn't protect him well enough."
"In other words, the loss came down to tactics?"
Phil didn't want to say it aloud, but he couldn't deny it either. The roster was loaded. Blaming Shaq would only trigger the big man's temper, which the team could ill afford.
And then there were the internal problems—things he couldn't admit publicly, not even privately in some circles.
In a traditional big-man system, the power forward is expected to handle the dirty work—defense, rebounding, protecting the center. But he couldn't assign that role to David Robinson. The Admiral wouldn't accept it.
So the "super center combo" wasn't enough to shield O'Neal from the relentless pounding by Zhao Dong.
Portland's strategy was clear—they played wide-open inside sets, forcing Robinson, now aging, into a passive role. Even if he had the will to help, his body just couldn't cover ground fast enough.
Game 1 felt like a sucker punch. Phil Jackson knew it. The Lakers' main lineup could beat the Trail Blazers—as they had in the regular season—but only if it stayed intact and productive deep into the game.
The real challenge was this: how to protect Shaq, allowing him to fully impact both ends of the floor.
He finally nodded and said, "In Game 2, we'll do everything possible to protect Shaq."
Meanwhile, over on the Trail Blazers' side, the mood couldn't have been more relaxed.
"Coach Bird, in the regular season, Zhao Dong didn't attack O'Neal in any of the four matchups. Was that intentional?" a local reporter asked.
Larry Bird grinned knowingly and gave a subtle nod.
In truth, it had been part of his long game. He'd held Zhao Dong back during the regular season, just to lull the Lakers into complacency. Game 1 was the grand reveal—a tactic built to unleash Zhao Dong's true power. The ambush worked perfectly.
The next morning, sports media across the country exploded with analysis. The consensus: the Trail Blazers were favored to win the Western Conference Finals.
That afternoon, inside the team hotel, the Lakers gathered for an urgent tactical meeting.
Kobe Bryant spoke up, his tone sharp. "I don't get it. Why didn't we adjust our offense when Shaq and David's efficiency dropped in the second half? Shouldn't we have shifted to more perimeter attacks?"
Phil Jackson looked at him, considering.
"Shaq and David were gassed, and the Trail Blazers were targeting them hard. Maybe we should've let them focus on rebounding instead and opened up the court more."
Kobe leaned forward, eyes locked on Phil.
"This isn't new. Barkley's talked about this inside spread concept before. We've never tried it. But if we pulled Shaq and David out to midrange, I'd have more room to drive and actually do damage."
Phil Jackson sat back in thought. His coaching philosophy had always centered around the triangle offense. The "Twin Towers" approach was a secondary system. He'd never truly embraced inside-outside spacing. Pulling both big men away from the paint? That wasn't traditional basketball.
But tradition had just been destroyed by a 26-point playoff loss.
He couldn't ignore Kobe's logic—not after losing Game 1 in such demoralizing fashion.
Still, he decided to proceed cautiously. "We'll consider it. That kind of spacing will be added into our tactical mix—but only as a support option. We'll use it when the bigs need recovery or when the paint gets too clogged."
Kobe snorted softly but didn't speak. His silence said more than words.
Phil glanced over and explained further, "Kobe, even with the bigs pulled out, they run a 2-1-2 zone. You'll face double-teams, then Marion in the middle, then help from their interior. That's still three layers. How confident are you in breaking all of that consistently?"
Kobe opened his mouth but hesitated.
"We're chasing efficiency, not just highlight plays. Zhao Dong hit 80% from the field in Game 1. Unless you're getting that level of production, we can't run everything through isolation."
"…That's fair," Kobe finally admitted.
Phil's tone softened. "We'll still run isolation plays for you, with high pick-and-rolls to clear your lanes—but don't go rogue. Play within the system."
Kobe nodded. "I promise."
Just then, Lakers GM Jerry West spoke up.
"Phil, what's the game plan for Game 2?"
Phil didn't hesitate. "We lost because we didn't stop Zhao Dong from pounding Shaq. Our main goal in Game 2 is to protect Shaq at all costs.
"I've been coaching against Zhao Dong for five straight years—first with the Bulls, now here—and I'll admit it: I've never been able to stop him."
That admission hung heavy in the room.
"If we let him keep scoring at will and beating up our bigs, even with our offensive firepower, we're done. We need to take away his ability to punish Shaq. Period."
The room nodded.
Game 1 had been hell. Shaq's movement was restricted. The moment he got into foul trouble, he lost his edge and stopped going all out.
But the unspoken truth was chilling: the only way to protect O'Neal was to stop Zhao Dong from breaking through. And no one—not even Jackson—had ever found a solution to that problem.
Phil could sense the doubt rising around the room.
They were all looking at him—again—for answers. But he had none.
Not really.
After a long silence, he finally said, "In Game 2, we'll play mixed defense. Kobe will be the primary defender on Zhao Dong."
"Me?" Kobe perked up.
He welcomed the challenge. Defense? Pressure? No problem.
"And…" Jackson's voice turned grim. "We're going to start fouling Zhao Dong."
"What?!"
Shock rippled through the room.
Was this a death wish?
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