Chapter Thirty-Five: Conversation in the Changing Room

“What just happened!” The seasoned ESPN commentator sounded astonished inside Chicago’s United Center. “Rajon Rondo’s pass was actually intercepted by his opponent!”

“Oh wow, how is that possible? That’s Rajon Rondo we’re talking about!” the other commentator exclaimed in disbelief, “That play just now, he nearly fooled everyone in the arena. For such a pass to be anticipated and picked off—unbelievable!”

“Michael Wu made the steal at almost an impossible distance, but I just can’t figure out how he saw through Rondo’s fake this time.”

Indeed, Rondo, renowned for his passing and orchestration, often delivers breathtaking assists. That previous play—faking a pass to Wade before bouncing it to Butler—was as flawless and fluid as a scripted performance. Yet, as if someone had spilled ink all over the script, Michael Wu was that very blot.

Swish!

On the court, a barely-contained pass from Wu found Payton Jr., who adjusted, drove, and finished a simple layup, pulling the Magic closer on the scoreboard.

“Michael, that was something else!” Ibaka glanced up at the scores above the court, then patted Wu on the back. “Didn’t think you’d actually guess right!”

Ibaka was referring to what Wu had said during halftime in the locker room: Rajon Rondo often makes ambiguous passes, toggling between two targets. This indecision shifts the defensive focus and allows Rondo to exploit those moments of imbalance, delivering the ball for the best possible offensive space for his teammates.

On the surface, Rondo’s passing philosophy, paired with Wade and Butler, seems perfect. But after observing from the bench, Wu noticed a subtle pattern: whenever either Butler or Wade caught fire and began scoring in quick succession, Rondo’s passing strategy would adjust. Though he kept up the pretense of a two-way option, in reality, he leaned more toward feeding the player with the hot hand.

Of course, for a point guard, this is the best decision. But for Wu, it represented a chance to disrupt Rondo’s rhythm. Even if it was just a guess, he was willing to try. As expected, after Butler converted an and-one, Rondo chose him again on the next possession. Wu, anticipating this, went all out to chase down Butler and executed a perfectly-timed steal.

Naturally, there was some luck involved in pulling off the steal—an elite floor general like Rondo rarely repeats mistakes. The Bulls’ next possession saw Rondo’s wizardry at work again; Mirotic caught a pass beyond the arc and nailed a three-pointer without hesitation.

75–61, the Bulls reasserted control, dissolving the Magic’s early third-quarter surge and clarifying the game’s direction in their favor.

Meanwhile, the Magic, now flustered, began to rush their play. Several of Payton Jr.’s passes went awry, and Wu, taking a chance, put up a shot that bounced off the rim. Fortunately, Ibaka was there to tip it in, adding two points for the team.

Observing the momentum shift, Magic head coach Frank Vogel made a decisive substitution at the next stoppage, sending Aaron Gordon and C.J. Augustin in for Michael Wu and Payton Jr.

“Michael, you did well,” Vogel said quietly as Wu came off the court, giving the rookie a pat on the back. Wu hadn’t made much progress offensively tonight, but everything he had predicted in the locker room had come true. He’d also contributed three rebounds and a steal, making his minutes quite efficient.

“No, Coach, I haven’t done enough. This isn’t nearly enough to help the team win.” Wu took the towel handed him by Biyombo, stood beside Vogel, and wiped the sweat from his brow. “My teammates need more offensive firepower from me—not just rebounding.”

“You’re right, Michael,” Vogel smiled, “That’s exactly what I said before the game. There’s more for you to learn. Our starters haven’t performed well tonight; we need to find more scoring threats from the bench.”

“Bench players have to be ready to score whenever they’re on the floor,” Vogel continued, his mood surprisingly upbeat despite the deficit. “You want to win, you want to help your teammates, but unfortunately, you’re not quite capable yet.”

“So, when do you think you’ll be able to help them?” With that, Vogel gestured to the players on the court, locked in a back-and-forth with the Bulls but unable to close the gap, and left the question hanging for Wu.

Wu had certainly stood out tonight, but clearly, when the team was in trouble, Vogel hoped for more from him. Right now, Wu simply wasn’t there yet.

Watching Jimmy Butler and Dwyane Wade repeatedly slice through the Magic’s defense with their scoring prowess, Wu felt a heaviness in his chest. Scorers change the course of the game with their points, while his own presence on the floor had barely impacted the outcome. Was his presence even necessary?

It wasn’t just Vogel’s question that left Wu pensive—he had his own thoughts, his own doubts.

Still, the events on the bench did nothing to change the game’s trajectory. The hole the Magic had dug in the first half was too deep; despite their third-quarter rally, they couldn’t climb out. With Wade and Butler taking turns unleashing their offense in the fourth, the Magic were simply outmatched.

After an 8–0 run by the Bulls in the fourth quarter, the Magic’s hopes of victory evaporated entirely. With just over two minutes to go, Vogel pulled his starters, sending in the reserves to play out the final stretch.

In the end, the Chicago Bulls—who had lost three straight—snapped their losing streak on home court, defeating the surging Orlando Magic 112–80 and ending their opponent’s three-game winning streak as well.

After the game, Wade appeared calm in interviews, insisting that his pregame remarks still held true: the team’s only issue was chemistry, which would resolve itself with time—there were no other problems. Yet, before the interview ended, Wade made sure to mention someone else.