Chapter 299: The Will To Win, A Clever And One
The first change of the night for San Antonio came with Tim Duncan walking to the bench and veteran Kurt Thomas checking in.
For Thomas, jogging onto the floor in Phoenix was a strange feeling.
Game 5 of last year's Western Conference semifinals, he had been on the Suns' side of this matchup. They had lost that game, but Thomas had been brilliant, putting up 15 points and 12 rebounds and earning real respect in that locker room.
Same round, same Game 5, but this time he was wearing a Spurs jersey and staring down his former teammates.
There was no room for nostalgia once the ball went up.
Parker swung the ball to the wing, then slipped it inside to Thomas after a screen. The veteran took one calm step into space and rose for a midrange jumper.
Swish.
2 more for San Antonio.
The crowd at America West Arena barely reacted. There was no anger for Thomas here. His exit from Phoenix had been peaceful, almost cordial.
The Suns flowed right into their offense.
Chen Yan came off a screen and attacked the lane, drawing both Parker and Thomas to him. The moment the second defender committed, he kicked the ball out to the corner.
Nash caught it, eyes on the rim, selling the shot for a heartbeat. As the defense shifted toward him, he snapped a quick pass to Raja Bell spotting up above the break.
Wide open. Perfect rhythm.
Bell rose and fired without hesitation.
The net popped clean.
As he backpedaled, Raja pointed once at Nash, then at Chen. The box score would only credit Nash with the assist, but everyone on the floor knew this was a classic hockey assist born from Chen's gravity.
Bell's 3 point percentage had climbed to 42.8 percent this season. It was not just his own work on his jumper. The constant pressure created by Nash and Chen Yan had given him more open looks than he had seen in his career.
San Antonio came back the other way.
Thomas set a screen, slipped out, and found another midrange look.
This time the shot rimmed out. At 36 years old, and in the role he played, no one expected him to knock down every open jumper. He was a blue collar veteran, not a designated scorer.
Phoenix pushed again.
Fresh off the made three, Bell was still riding the energy. As he crossed half court, Nash drifted toward him and set a screen to free him for another look.
That excitement cut both ways.
On the pick, Bell leaned a little too hard, adding a subtle shove that sent Bowen tumbling. The referee's whistle came instantly. Offensive foul.
Raja did not argue. He knew he had added too much force.
The Suns gave away that possession, but their overall rhythm stayed intact.
Nash went back to work orchestrating. On the next trips he moved the ball quickly, hitting teammates in stride, letting the system breathe. With Phoenix's players feeling good, Nash's impact only amplified.
With 2 minutes left in the first quarter, Popovich signaled for Duncan to return.
The effect was immediate.
Amar'e Stoudemire attacked the paint, only to have his shot sent right back by Duncan's outstretched arm. The ball stayed in play, and on the ensuing action, Duncan slid along the baseline, took a feed, and finished a simple layup.
The Stone Buddha had arrived to calm his team again, using the same blend of scoring and defense that had anchored the Spurs for a decade.
Duncan rarely had those wild, explosive scoring nights, but almost no one could remember him ever disappearing either. His greatness was consistency.
…
The horn ended the first quarter.
Phoenix Suns 28, San Antonio Spurs 19.
Chen Yan had played the entire quarter and put up 15 points, 4 rebounds, 3 assists, 2 steals, and 1 block.
The numbers were not some outrageous video game line, but they were complete. Everywhere you looked, he had left fingerprints on the game.
As Chen walked to the bench, D'Antoni reached out and slapped the back of his neck, a wordless sign of approval.
For the head coach, Chen's value was not just in those stats. He was the engine. The 9 point lead on the scoreboard was the clearest proof.
The second quarter opened quickly.
The Spurs rolled out their second unit with Ginobili as the lead guard.
The Suns answered with their full bench group, led by Grant Hill.
Since Chen had logged the entire first quarter, D'Antoni finally gave him a breather. The running joke about him burning out his starters might have lived on in fan conversations, but in reality he was not going to run Chen into the ground in May.
San Antonio had the ball to start.
Ginobili wasted no time. On the first possession he rose from beyond the arc and drilled a three, stepping right into rhythm.
Next time down, he snaked off a high screen, twisted between two defenders with that signature footwork, and kissed a layup off the glass.
Within a couple of minutes, the camera found him walking back on defense, face expressionless, eyes locked in.
The Spurs had won Games 3 and 4, but Ginobili had not truly broken out. Tonight he was clearly unloading everything he had been storing up.
On the Suns' side, Grant Hill, Azubuike, and J J Barea all contributed solid minutes, hitting shots and competing defensively. Even so, their work was overshadowed by Manu's sudden surge.
By the time the clock showed 9:07 remaining in the second quarter, the score had tightened to 35 to 31.
That was enough for D'Antoni.
At the next dead ball, he waved in Nash, Chen Yan, and Stoudemire together.
The original plan had been to stretch their rest longer, but the game was bigger than the script. The lead needed to be protected.
Win Game 5, seize control of the series. Lose it, and everything tilted back to San Antonio. D'Antoni understood that as clearly as anyone.
Popovich answered by bringing back his own starters and sitting Ginobili.
The Spurs coach was strict with minutes. Manu had already logged heavy action in the first quarter. Popović was not about to run him through the entire second as well.
As Manu headed to the bench, Popovich gave him a firm slap on the back.
The plan had been simple: let Ginobili carry the second unit and drag the Spurs back into the game. Manu had delivered exactly what was asked.
Play resumed.
San Antonio ball.
Duncan established deep position in the paint. Parker lofted the entry pass high and let him work.
Duncan leaned in, feeling out Stoudemire's weight, testing the balance at his back.
His sense in those back to the basket battles was elite. With one subtle bump he knew exactly where Amar'e's center of gravity sat.
Boom.
He spun off the pressure, took a hard dribble, and rose for a one handed dunk, throwing it down with surprising force.
33 to 35.
The Suns inbounded quickly.
Nash pushed the ball to the front court and found Grant Hill trailing into space.
Hill pulled up from midrange.
Bang off the back iron. The line was pure but the shot was a touch too strong.
As the ball kicked high off the rim, Chen Yan exploded toward it. He beat Oberto to the spot and snatched the offensive rebound with both hands.
His will to win was written in that one sequence. It was not just about highlight drives. It was every chase, every loose ball, every extra chance he could manufacture.
That kind of hustle did more than create another possession. It sent a jolt of energy through the Suns bench and the crowd.
Landing with the ball, Chen saw the paint crowded and immediately dribbled out toward the right side, just outside the lane line.
Oberto stayed attached, shuffling to stay between Chen and the rim.
Chen planted hard and spun.
In one fast, tight move he turned his back to the defender and came out of the spin heading straight toward the basket.
He gathered with two hands, hesitated in mid step, and almost came to a stop under the rim.
Behind him, Oberto could not brake in time. The momentum carried him straight into Chen's back.
Chen had set the trap on purpose, slowing just enough to force the contact.
The whistle blew the instant Oberto collided with him.
At the same time, Chen released a soft, controlled shot off the glass from directly under the hoop.
His body control was elite.
The ball rolled around the rim, circled once, then dropped through.
And one.
Chen Yan had turned a simple offensive rebound into a three point play, using nothing but timing, balance, and an unshakable desire to win.
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