Chapter 399: A Historic Breakthrough
The second half opened with Yao Ming setting the tone.
A strong hook inside. Then a smooth midrange jumper off the pick and roll. 4 straight points, quick, simple, and heavy.
Yao understood it better than anyone. Against a team like Spain, Chen Yan playing like a god was not enough. Basketball had never been a 1 man sport, and if China wanted a medal, Yao had to give them more than a screen and a box out.
Spain responded the way elite teams always do, calmly and efficiently. Pau Gasol scored, then Navarro answered right behind him. No panic, no wasted motion. Compared to China's reliance on star creation, Spain's offense looked like it took less energy, because it did. Their chemistry, their reads, their timing, all of it was years ahead.
This was the gap. Not in courage, but in structure. Tactical discipline, execution, shared habits. China could not replicate that overnight.
Midway through the third quarter, Jonas sat Yao for rest. Yao's stamina dropped fast, and it exposed the cost of playing through a single pillar. Continuous hard post touches drained him, while Spain spread the burden across 5 bodies.
The moment Yao stepped off, the paint belonged to the Gasol brothers.
Marc caught a Rubio feed and banked in 2 at the rim.
Next trip, Pau caught on the left side, drove into Yi Jianlian, then spun into a back pivot layup, 2 more.
Those 2 possessions were the clearest reminder of Yao's value. Chen Yan could score and organize, but he could not protect the rim against giants.
Jonas had seen enough. Timeout, then a bold swing.
He sent out Chen Yan, Wang 7, Zhu 8, Du Feng, and Wang Zhizhi.
A gamble. A loud one.
No real rim protection, no traditional anchor, just 1 star and 4 shooters, with the idea that if you cannot win the paint, you set the building on fire from the arc.
Fans watching held their breath. This lineup had only 2 outcomes, either they shoot Spain off the floor, or they get crushed and it turns ugly.
Jonas was not reckless. He made the call because he could see China's perimeter touch was alive tonight. If they were cold like the Argentina game, this would have been suicide.
The 1 star 4 shooter look immediately showed teeth.
Chen Yan held the ball at the top. Wang 7 and Zhu stationed at both wings. Du Feng and Wang Zhizhi stayed in the corners. The floor was wide open, the kind of spacing Chen Yan usually only saw in the NBA.
He went to work.
2 long crossovers, then he dropped his hips and blew by Calderón.
The moment he cracked the first line, Spain was forced into a choice.
Help, and give up clean 3s.
Stay home, and let Chen Yan walk to the rim.
Pau Gasol and Navarro still collapsed. Chen Yan was the danger they could not ignore.
Chen Yan flicked a pass to Wang.
Catch, rise.
Swish.
Spain answered right back with a paint score. That was the price of the lineup, without Yao and Yi, the rim protection fell to a CBA level.
No time to complain. Du Feng inbounded, Chen Yan sprinted it up, and Spain's defense snapped toward him again. A step beyond the arc, Chen Yan whipped a 1 handed horizontal pass, turned his head, and threw a stylish no look.
Wang caught it in rhythm.
Swish.
Again.
Wukesong detonated. Wang was the definition of streaky. When he was hot, he was molten. When he was cold, he could freeze a kettle.
By the end of the third quarter, the score read 74 to 68.
China's gamble had worked, but it had not broken the game. Spain kept scoring too. China could not stop them, and Spain could not fully slow Chen Yan.
That was what worried people. China was already shooting well, and still could not create a cushion. If the legs went in the fourth, the ending could turn cruel.
…
Spain opened the fourth with inside and outside scoring, slicing the gap by 5 in a hurry.
At a critical moment, Chen Yan drove, absorbed contact, and earned free throws. He made both, a small but necessary act of stability.
He was ready to play the full 40. He could handle 48 in the NBA. The Olympics was 40 minutes, and his engine was built for it.
The game tightened, the contact got heavier, and Jonas refused to take Chen Yan out.
Two minutes later, Jonas brought Yi Jianlian and Yao Ming back. The lineup returned to normal, because the 1 star 4 shooter look was explosive, but it lived and died on touch. In the fourth quarter, Jonas wanted stability.
China now had Sun Dasheng, Chen Yan, Zhu 8, Yi Jianlian, and Yao Ming.
Jonas chose Sun Dasheng over Liu Wei for defense. Late game basketball turns into stops.
Spain answered with their starters too. With 8 minutes and 47 seconds left, both teams dragged the decisive battle forward.
…
Calderón crossed half court and fed Pau Gasol at the high post. Pau palmed the ball with 1 hand, calmly reading the floor as Spain's cutters began to move.
Reyes used a double screen to cut. Pau lofted the pass, perfect timing, perfect angle. Reyes caught, stepped, and finished.
Spain's offense flowed like water.
China's offense, by comparison, leaned on individual creation.
Chen Yan crossed half court and threw a post entry to Yao. The moment Yao caught and turned, Calderón appeared from the blind side and stripped it clean.
The ball bounced. Calderón could not secure it and knocked it forward. Yao and Pau Gasol both hit the floor, bodies tangled, the ball loose, the moment chaotic.
In the scramble, the ball rolled to Sun Dasheng.
He grabbed it, looked up, saw a figure streaking toward the rim, and instinct took over.
With both hands, he tossed it high.
Chen Yan launched off 1 foot. Spain's defense was scattered. No one was positioned to stop him.
Then, another figure appeared in the air beside him.
Yi Jianlian was flying too.
Both thought the lob was meant for them.
Boom.
A thunderous slam hit the rim, and the arena gasped.
Chen Yan and Yi had both finished it together, slamming the same ball through the same hoop in the same instant, like a 2 person special shot from a soccer anime.
It was ridiculous.
It was beautiful.
And for half a second, it felt like the building might lift off its foundation.
…
The celebration was brief. The tension returned immediately.
Spain's fourth quarter offense kept coming. They were a medal favorite for a reason, and they refused to leave Beijing empty handed. If they could not take gold, they wanted bronze as their consolation.
The score stayed tied at the throat until the final 3 minutes.
China led 93 to 91, only 2 points.
Chen Yan held the ball at the top. Jonas waved both arms on the sideline, shouting, "Spread out, spread out, spread out."
He trusted Chen Yan in these moments, and Chen Yan had earned it over the entire Olympic run.
Spain put Fernández on him, a deliberate choice. More size, better feet, more physical tools than their other perimeter defenders.
Chen Yan probed with consecutive between the legs dribbles. Spain did not send the double.
Not because they did not want to.
Because they did not dare.
Chen Yan already had 11 assists, and most of them came from drive and kick reads to open shooters. Tonight, China's touch had been good. Doubling him was an invitation to get punished.
Fernández lowered his stance. Chen Yan's changes of direction did not create a clear lane.
So Chen Yan shifted gears.
He dropped low and burst toward Fernández's right hip.
Fernández slid the way most defenders would.
Their bodies touched. Fernández reached to swipe.
In that instant, Chen Yan snapped a behind the back dribble, clean and natural, like it was written into his spine.
By the time Fernández realized the ball was gone, Chen Yan was already past him.
Pau Gasol stood as the last line in the paint.
Chen Yan sprinted, then tossed the ball high.
The floater climbed like it had a ladder, an absurd arc, then dropped straight down through the net.
Pau hit him after the release, sending Chen Yan to the floor.
Beep.
The whistle came immediately.
And 1.
2 plus the free throw.
Wukesong exploded. Teammates hauled Chen Yan up. In the Argentina game, he had not been able to carry them over the final threshold. Tonight, when they needed a closer, he delivered.
As he walked to the line, the arena started chanting.
"MVP."
"MVP."
"MVP."
Chen Yan took a breath. Yao Ming pressed both hands down toward the crowd, asking for quiet, refusing to let the noise turn into pressure.
Chen Yan paused.
Swish.
Free throw good.
91 to 96.
That made Chen Yan's total 37.
He had spent more time connecting the team tonight, feeding shooters, pulling defenders, organizing rhythm. But the moment scoring became the only language the game respected, he spoke it fluently.
Spain rushed the next look. Fernández missed from outside.
Yao Ming secured the rebound.
Spain tried to swarm for a steal. Yao used his experience, swinging his elbows twice to keep bodies off him. Only when Chen Yan came back did Yao relax and deliver the outlet.
Chen Yan crossed half court and handed it to Yao, who had trailed into the play beyond the arc.
Yao had space to shoot.
He did not.
He stayed calm. China needed the safe play, not a highlight.
He moved it to Sun Dasheng, then planted a huge screen.
Sun Dasheng took 1 sideways dribble and stopped. He was not taking that shot. His percentage was too shaky, and missing there would have branded him for life.
He kept his head up.
Off the ball, Chen Yan used Yi Jianlian's screen, running an S cut and popping out beyond the arc.
Sun Dasheng's vision was solid. He fired the pass.
Chen Yan caught and rose immediately, no extra motion, using the momentum of his movement to launch a drifting pull up from deep.
It was his signature shot.
High difficulty.
Harder to block.
At that point, it was pure feel.
Chen Yan held his form, eyes locked on the ball.
Swish.
91 to 99.
A 3 that felt like a blade across the throat of the game.
There was no such thing as too much praise for making shots like that in the Olympics.
Spanish fans, watching at home, were doing the opposite of praising. Every high five Chen Yan gave looked like a personal insult.
On the floor, Pau Gasol glanced toward the bench, trying to call for a timeout.
But the staff signaled to keep playing. In the NBA, the player could call it. In FIBA, he could not.
Pau did not like it, but he had no choice.
Spain had only 1 timeout left, and the coaches wanted to save it for the end.
There was no end to save it for.
Over the next 2 minutes, China ripped off a 9 to 2 run and stretched the lead to 9.
In the final minute, Spain went all shooters, desperate for a miracle.
Too late.
The final score settled at 93 to 102.
The Chinese Men's Basketball Team completed a historic breakthrough.
Bronze.
A medal.
A moment that would never fade.
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