Chapter 141: Logo at the Buzzer, Stubborn Coach!
After hitting five straight shots, Chen Yan's hot streak icon lit up again.
The Raptors, however, made no real defensive adjustments. It wasn't that head coach Sam Mitchell didn't want to—he simply didn't have the personnel to do it.
Toronto's interior duo of Bosh and Bargnani was considered the softest big-man pairing in the league, and Calderon's defense at point guard was among the weakest. With that lineup, locking down an opponent was nearly impossible.
So Mitchell leaned into their identity—focus on offense, live with the defense.
In many ways, the Raptors mirrored the Suns: a free-flowing, three-point heavy team with plenty of shooters. It was the kind of matchup that promised fireworks.
"Swish!"
On Toronto's next possession, Bosh posted up, drew the double-team, and whipped a clever kick-out. Anthony Parker was waiting in the corner. Wide open. Deadly accurate.
Three points, bottom of the net. 12–9.
A European League MVP before joining the NBA, Parker had polished his shot through years overseas. This season, he was hitting 43% from deep—leave him open, and you'd pay the price.
The Suns answered quickly.
Chen Yan cut hard without the ball, and Nash, with his magician's vision, threaded a pass right on time.
Parker lunged to tip it, but the ball grazed just past his fingertips.
Chen Yan gathered and attacked the lane. This time, both Bosh and Bargnani collapsed on him, bracing for impact. The crowd held its breath, expecting another rim-rattling poster.
Instead—Chen Yan flicked his wrist. The ball floated upward.
Not a floater. An alley-oop.
Behind the Raptors' bigs, Stoudemire soared into the air, snatched it clean, and detonated the rim.
BOOM!
The arena shook.
"Beautiful! What a pass!" the commentators cried.
Landing, Stoudemire slapped Chen Yan twice on the backside in appreciation. He hadn't expected Chen to pass—it was his hot hand, after all, five-for-five to start. But Chen Yan wasn't a selfish scorer. If a teammate was wide open, he'd deliver.
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First Quarter Closing Moments
With 25 seconds left in the opening period, Phoenix led 31–25.
Chen Yan had already poured in 21 points. Nash, weary from recent games of carrying the offense, attempted only one shot and focused entirely on orchestrating. Chen Yan was left to digest almost every offensive possession himself.
Toronto had the ball for the final attack.
Pierce dribbled down the clock, milking every second. His veteran savvy was clear—better to shoot late and leave nothing behind.
With six seconds left, he went to work on Raja Bell. A shoulder fake, a sudden pull-up…
"Swish!"
Classic Pierce mid-range. 31–27.
But he had left 1.6 seconds on the clock.
The Suns inbounded quickly.
Chen Yan sprinted upcourt, snatched the pass, and in one fluid motion rose to fire. He was still a step inside half court—the logo shot.
Bang!
Shua!
The ball kissed the front rim, bounced high, and dropped straight through.
34–27, Suns.
The horn blared. The quarter was over.
The Raptors froze. Pierce's proud buzzer attempt now looked like a setup for Chen Yan's dagger.
Chen Yan shrugged at the broadcast camera, palms open: What can I say? Let me shoot.
The crowd erupted, adrenaline surging.
"Too much! Even that goes in?!"
"To Chen, the rim looks as wide as the ocean tonight!"
"The ocean? Forget it—it's the whole universe!"
"Q: What can you do in 1.6 seconds? A: That's enough time for Chen Yan to score."
"Twenty-four points in the first quarter. He's out of his mind!"
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As the second quarter began, D'Antoni finally gave Chen Yan a breather. Even Mustache Mike couldn't justify playing him the entire half.
Without Chen Yan, Phoenix's bench struggled. Toronto's reserves—TJ Ford, Kapono, Jamario Moon—were just as strong on paper, and the Raptors clawed back.
At 8:07, Chen Yan checked back in. Suns up 44–39.
The applause was thunderous—almost all from Chinese fans. Some were lifelong basketball junkies; others didn't know a pick-and-roll from a free throw, but they were here to support Chen Yan.
Coach Sam Mitchell? He stayed stubborn.
Despite Chen Yan's explosion, Mitchell made no special defensive adjustments. His logic was simple: the game was still close, and his goal wasn't to stop one player—it was to win as a team.
But this wasn't the first time Mitchell had been so obstinate.
Last season, when Kobe torched the Raptors for 81 points, Sam Mitchell thought the same thing.
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