In September, as the players resumed their state , Davis also began shifting the training focus to tactics.
The first emphasis was on defensive tactics—after all, defense was the core theme of the 1990s.
At that time, the NBA did not allow zone defenses, but in practice, "pseudo-zone defenses" had already begun to be widely used by many teams.
In Su Feng's previous life, the Bulls and the Jazz had clashed in the Finals for two consecutive years. The two teams restricted each other by exploiting the rules and the referees' blind spots.
The reason Jordan relied heavily on turnaround jumpers and mid-range shots to finish plays during his last three championships, aside from his physical decline, was mainly because strong NBA teams had perfected the art of "pseudo-zone defense."
Alongside the hand-checking rules, the NBA restricted area at that time was essentially a "Blood Pool, Meat Forest."
When defending, strong teams would collapse into the paint, following the opponent's movement to shrink the restricted area.
If the opposing team had a long-range shooter, the defender assigned to him would disrupt his shooting percentage with upper-body pressure.
Combined with the hand-checking rules, which were extremely punishing for perimeter players, it could even be said that in the 1990s, if an outside player managed to shoot above 45% …
The coach would encourage him to keep shooting as long as his stamina allowed.
Davis's defensive tactics were very much in line with Su Feng's expectations—essentially the standard approach across all teams in the 1990s.
It looked like man-to-man defense, but in reality, it was a disguised zone.
As a defensive-minded player, Su Feng had a hunch that if the 76ers truly played this way …
The Sixers would be in serious trouble.
Because with this kind of counterfeit defense, a team cannot succeed without strong chemistry.
Reality is not a novel—even the best tactics require time to develop.
Players need to complement each other, rotate seamlessly, and even coordinate sliding distances, all of which demand chemistry first.
That is why powerhouse teams in the 1990s rarely changed their core lineups.
Davis's defensive tactics clearly lacked protection for Iverson.
Su Feng, who knew Iverson's defensive limitations well, understood that if Iverson were targeted by opponents, it would inevitably lead to shootouts.
Of course, Su Feng was just a rookie at the time, and as a professional opportunist, he knew his place.
"Being clever and sensible" was the role Su Feng needed to play.
After explaining the defensive tactics, Davis's offensive schemes proved even less creative.
The only advantage was that, consistent with Su Feng's memory, Davis did not restrict players from shooting three-pointers.
This was partly due to the shortened three-point line in the 1996–97 season …
And partly because Davis believed that with a player like Iverson, the team "should" generate a large number of drive-and-kick opportunities.
It is worth mentioning Fraser's summer training …
Although Su Feng's positioning and spacing were still far behind those of experienced NBA players, his overall performance had already impressed the 76ers' coaching staff.
In Davis's eyes, Su Feng's quiet, unassuming character made him the perfect role player.
"Su, I plan to have you come off the bench in the preseason, playing 25 minutes each game."
One day after practice, Davis approached Su Feng privately.
Su Feng nodded earnestly.
"You can rest assured—I'll design some simple isolation plays and running sets to let you showcase your talents."
Su Feng's "sensible" attitude further increased Davis's trust in him, so …
Davis continued: "Your mid-range shooting training has been solid. I don't object to you taking threes, but I hope you increase your mid-range attempts."
Su Feng nodded again, deliberately.
He knew Davis was grooming him to be the Sixers' second scoring option.
Although he was still far from earning the "unlimited shooting rights," Su Feng believed that even "reasonable shooting rights" were a valuable opportunity.
…
Time flew, and suddenly it was the 26th.
On this day, Su Feng accepted an exclusive interview with NBC.
The interviewer was John Williams, host of NBC's basketball program.
When greeting Su Feng, Williams smiled and used a saying that translates to "good wine takes time to brew."
It must be said that Williams's emotional intelligence and eloquence set him apart from tabloid reporters who only look for gossip.
Williams's words were meant to praise Su Feng, while also implying: the repeated delays in scheduling the interview were not intentional—it was because Su Feng had played so well.
Once the interview began, Williams asked with a smile:
"Su, as the first Chinese player to score in the NBA, do you feel that this identity puts pressure on you?"
Clearly, Williams had done his homework.
As the hope of an entire nation, how could the pressure not be immense?
Su Feng answered candidly with the English version of "If you want to wear the crown, you must bear its weight," then added: "Actually, I once thought about giving up."
"Oh?" Williams raised his eyebrows, looking at Su Feng with curiosity.
"Fortunately, when I wanted to give up, I met Kobe. In Lower Merion, the days when Kobe and I woke up early, stayed up late, and worked tirelessly—even when fatigue made us feel we couldn't go on … I think what kept me going was the power of dreams."
"If history is just a breeze, why should people worry about it?" Su Feng said sincerely, looking at Williams.
For reasons he couldn't explain, Williams—who had interviewed countless basketball stars—felt a fire ignite in his chest at that moment.
In the 1990s, motivational "chicken soup for the soul" was powerful. And this was "Mamba chicken soup," which would inspire countless people in the future.
"Are you afraid of boos during games?" Williams asked after a pause.
"My best friend Kobe told me: 'If they boo, will it stop you from wearing your crown?'" Su Feng replied.
"We all know your relationship with Allen is good. He even said in an interview that the team chose him to assist you, and he called you 'The King.' Do you think your current strength matches such a nickname?" Williams pressed.
"That's just Allen joking. In fact, the first nickname he gave me was 'Flash.'" Su Feng laughed, deflecting smoothly.
"What made you decide to skip college and go straight to the NBA?"
Williams thought Su Feng's answer was too polished—was this really just an 18-year-old kid?
"I want to challenge Michael Jordan," Su Feng replied calmly.
Hearing this, Williams's eyes lit up.
"Young people with confidence like yours are rare," Williams said with a laugh.
"Of course. Jordan is recognized as the best player now. As a basketball player, if you don't want to face him, how are you different from a salted fish?" Su Feng replied.
Williams: "…"
What you said makes sense—I can't refute it.
Dreams are priceless.
Williams realized that instead of being unsettled, Su Feng's answer had made him admire the young man.
Su Feng's composure and maturity were striking—every response felt carefully considered.
"Do you think you can help the Sixers turn their record around?" Williams asked his final question.
"Whether it's possible or not will only be revealed once the season begins. I never make meaningless promises. But I can tell you this: I wake up at 4 a.m. every day to practice, so I won't fail to score or make a block on the court. I love basketball, nothing more," Su Feng replied.
Williams fell silent.
As an NBC basketball host, he felt he was not interviewing an 18-year-old kid, but someone mature and seasoned.
"Is this 'The King'?"
Looking at Su Feng's handsome face, Williams laughed after the interview:
"If I ever need a business partner in the future, you'll be my first choice."
Although the compliment felt odd to Su Feng, he accepted it graciously.
An 18-year-old high school prodigy with such maturity and sophistication would surely become a successful businessman—even without basketball.
That was Williams's lasting impression after interviewing Su Feng.
…
Su Feng's interview would take some time to air. In September, after the joy of eating, sleeping, and playing with Jerry, the arrival of October also meant that the 1996–97 NBA season was about to begin.
The 76ers' first preseason game was scheduled for October 7, against the Bucks.
In 1996, preseason games were not broadcast. After nearly a month of training and the release of several temporary players, the 76ers' coaching staff finalized the preliminary roster for the new season.
The 76ers' 1996–97 preseason roster was as follows:
Centers: Scott Williams (C/PF), Michael Cage (C/PF), Mark Bradtke (C)Power Forwards: Clarence Weatherspoon (PF/SF), Mark Hendrickson (PF), Ben Wallace (PF/C)Small Forwards: Don MacLean (SF/PF), Mark Davis (SF), Su Feng (SF/SG)Shooting Guards: Jerry Stackhouse (SG/SF), Rex Walters (SG/PG), Lucious Harris (SG/PG)Point Guards: Allen Iverson (PG/SG), Frankie King (PG/SG), Doug Overton (PG)
Overall, this was a roster so obscure that even veteran NBA fans with 20 years of experience might not recognize every name.
When Ben Wallace signed, the team listed him as a power forward, arguing that his explosive hairstyle wasn't enough to convince people he was truly 206 cm tall.
Su Feng was registered as a small forward because his height was the most "accurate."
When the team photo was taken, Su Feng's size looked similar to the 76ers' three power forwards.
Take Michael Cage, for example: his listed height was 206 cm, but in reality, he barely reached 203 cm in shoes.
Su Feng's greatest fortune was meeting Ben Wallace in the summer. Otherwise, given the 76ers' forward situation, he might have been pushed into playing as a power forward.
Of course, not everyone's listed height was exaggerated.
For instance, Don MacLean, a forward plagued by injuries, really stood at 208 cm.
In his second season, MacLean averaged 18 points per game on 50% shooting.
Unfortunately, his body lacked durability. Over the past two seasons, he had missed a total of 69 games.
In Su Feng's memory, MacLean was traded shortly after the 1996–97 season began—a true "glass man."
In Su Feng's previous life, critics often claimed Iverson wasn't good enough.
But in reality, Iverson was far tougher than most people realized.
Before the new season, Davis expressed hope that the team's record would surpass last year's expectations.
He didn't dare mention the playoffs.
Because in the preseason power rankings, the 76ers were placed 25th.
If Davis had shouted about making the playoffs, players might have sent him straight to a mental hospital.
What kind of joke would that be? With such a weak team, how could they compete with the Eastern Conference powerhouses?
At that time, the NBA was still stronger in the East than in the West.
In the 1996–97 season, the eighth-seeded Washington Bullets won 44 games, while in the West, the playoff threshold was much lower …
Even a struggling team like the Clippers made the playoffs with just 36 wins.
The Eastern Conference was full of strong teams. After reviewing the schedule, Su Feng realized that every game would be a battle for the current 76ers.
…
On October 7, the 76ers played their first preseason game against the Bucks.
Su Feng once again saw Ray Allen … and his big brother.
The Bucks, with Glen Robinson and Vin Baker, had a lineup that looked strong on paper, but in reality, each player seemed more interested in padding stats.
Ray Allen's disciplined style of play stood out as a rare exception on this team.
Fortunately for the Sixers, Robinson wasn't motivated to chase numbers in the preseason, and Baker wasn't fully engaged either.
With the veterans coasting, Ray Allen had plenty of opportunities to shine.
At this stage, Allen was not yet the future Hall of Famer. He was more of a speed-driven scorer—if you gave him space, he would punish you instantly.
In this game, the Sixers' starting five were Williams, Weatherspoon, MacLean, Stackhouse, and Iverson.
From the opening tip, Iverson used his speed to relentlessly attack the Bucks' interior defense.
The Bucks' starting guard, Sherman Douglas, quickly adjusted after being beaten early, and soon he and Iverson were trading baskets in a shootout.
Neither MacLean nor Stackhouse wanted to defend Iverson. MacLean was too slow, while Stackhouse believed that, with Su Feng on the bench, he should be the primary scoring option.
Watching from the sidelines, Su Feng noticed that his teammates were already grumbling about Iverson's style of play.
Weatherspoon, for example, had barely touched the ball—only four times by midway through the game. He worried that if things continued like this, his stats for the season would suffer.
Coach Davis, frustrated, called two timeouts after realizing the players on the floor weren't following the pregame tactics he had drawn up.
As one of the architects of the Bulls' first dynasty, Scott Williams was solid at protecting the paint, but the Sixers' perimeter shooting was abysmal.
Looking at the rebounding numbers, Williams could only regret not having Rodman's natural rebounding instincts.
"It's strange. Allen didn't play this well in the Summer League …"
On the bench, assistants Jason and Rick were puzzled.
In truth, Iverson wasn't trying to hog the ball—his teammates simply weren't on the same page.
Stackhouse was focused on proving himself through isolation plays;
MacLean avoided physical contact after repeated injuries;
Weatherspoon's mind seemed elsewhere;
And no one was capable of running a pick-and-roll with Iverson.
So, from Iverson's perspective, what else could he do besides attack on his own?
Meanwhile, Ray Allen thrived with his teammates coasting. In this battle between two lottery picks from the 1996 draft, neither wanted to be outshined.
By the time four minutes remained in the first quarter, the Sixers were already trailing 14–25.
"Su, in a moment, go in and replace Don (MacLean)," Davis instructed.
Realizing adjustments were necessary, Davis decided that if the tactics weren't working, the team needed to experiment with chemistry instead.
Hearing his name, Su Feng walked to the scorer's table with determination.