He places his hand firmly on the big man’s lower back, Charles Oakley does, dismissing a series of pump fakes with a smirk and a shake of his head. The two men are 10, maybe 12 feet from the basket; Oakley refuses to let that distance shorten. Forcing his opponent to elevate for a jumper, Oakley delivers an almost imperceptible tap to his shooting elbow, one of the many dark arts of defense that he has mastered. Yet for all Oakley’s wiles, the ball snaps through the net. Jayson Williams whoops and whistles, his goatee framing a smile. “That’s what I thought!” he yells. “That’s what I thought!”