Chapter 412: Westbrook Exposed, and the Value of a Shooting Guard
Chen Yan buried the free throw, and the Suns jumped out to an early 6 to 0 lead.
From the booth, Kenny Smith chuckled. "Chen Yan just gave Westbrook a welcome package, a chasedown block, then a poster dunk."
Barkley leaned into the mic. "After the game, Westbrook's gonna turn on the TV and see himself in the Top 5. Only problem is, he's the background."
Kenny laughed. "Every rookie has to go through it. You take a beating, you learn, you get better."
They thought the lesson was over.
They had no idea it was just getting started.
…
Chicago came down, and Westbrook immediately hunted his payback. He circled twice, finally got the ball at the left wing, about a 45 degree angle beyond the arc.
Chen Yan was on him instantly.
He stayed attached, bumping him with little elbows and body checks, the kind of contact that never gets called and gets taught on Day 1. In the NBA, you either learn to live with it or you learn to disappear.
Westbrook took it personally. In his head, this was Chen Yan trying to mess with him.
So he flipped the switch into full reckless mode.
He powered his dribble toward the free throw line, then slammed the ball down and rose for a pull up jumper, straight up, stiff, and obvious.
Chen Yan had read it like a billboard.
Swat.
A clean rejection.
Westbrook's face twisted in frustration. That was 2 shots, 2 blocks, and both of them felt humiliating.
Chen Yan flicked the ball out to Nash.
Nash attacked the paint, then whipped a no look pass behind him. Stoudemire came flying down the lane, caught, and detonated at the rim.
The whole sequence took about 4 seconds.
Suns 8, Bulls 0.
Chen Yan glanced at Westbrook and smiled, like he was talking to a younger cousin. "Game just started. Don't rush to pad my block numbers."
Trash talk was part of the league. Chen Yan was also training Westbrook's mental toughness, whether Westbrook appreciated it or not.
"Again!" Westbrook snapped back.
He wanted to turn the night into 1 on 1.
His teammates were not interested.
Hinrich brought it up and ignored Westbrook calling for the ball. He could tell the rookie was overheating. Hinrich gestured, directing Westbrook to the corner.
Westbrook obeyed. Rookie rules.
Yi set a screen for Hinrich, then rolled into space.
Hinrich took 2 dribbles inside and kicked it to Yi. Hinrich was a traditional point guard, pass first, structure first. Westbrook was labeled a point guard, but his instincts leaned toward a scoring guard. That was exactly why Del Negro was comfortable playing them together.
Yi looked at the high post. No clean shot. He swung it to Gooden.
Gooden caught at the midrange corner. Both he and Yi could shoot from distance, the kind of bigs who pull defenders away from the paint. With both of them stationed out, the lane opened like someone had moved a wall.
Deng attacked the gap, cutting hard. Gooden threaded a perfect bounce pass.
Deng gathered and finished through contact, drawing a foul on Raja Bell.
Bell fought, but the matchup was ugly. Deng had the height, the stride, the momentum. Once Deng got downhill, there was no great answer.
The United Center finally had something to cheer.
Deng knocked down the free throw.
8 to 3.
…
Phoenix came back, and Nash handed the ball straight to Chen Yan, then waved everyone out.
If Chicago insisted on leaving Westbrook on an island, Phoenix was not going to feel bad about it.
Chen Yan went into a wide crossover, moving the ball to his left.
The instant Westbrook tried to match the burst, Chen Yan yanked it back and drifted beyond the arc.
Just outside the 3 point line, Chen Yan paused, left hand hovering, eyes locked on the rim.
Westbrook read it as a shot and lunged.
He had the athleticism, but his defense was mostly energy and force, with very little technique. That made him easy to manipulate, and exhausting to watch.
The moment he flew, Chen Yan glided past him with a smooth change of direction.
If Westbrook had stayed down, Chen Yan would have simply risen and shot. Westbrook's best option was to keep a disciplined cushion and react late.
That would still only bother Chen Yan, not stop him.
But Westbrook wanted to shut him down completely.
That was the trap.
Chen Yan got deep, and Yi stepped up as the help defender. Chen Yan had options everywhere. A pass, a pull up, another dribble into the rim.
Before Yi could fully set his feet, Chen Yan floated it.
A soft, high arcing floater.
Swish.
10 to 3.
Westbrook was turning into Chicago's biggest weak spot. Chen Yan hunted him, possession after possession, like he was collecting interest from a bank account.
Del Negro did not call for a sub.
Getting outplayed by Chen Yan was brutal, but it was also a lesson you did not get twice in a career.
Chicago answered with Deng again. He drove, leaned through Bell, and finished.
10 to 5.
D'Antoni glanced down the bench at Barnes. Bigger body, more size for Deng. Raja Bell might need help tonight.
Phoenix ran a normal set next. For the first time in a while, Westbrook exhaled when Chen Yan did not touch the ball.
Nash came off a screen, got into the lane, and kicked to Bell in the corner.
Wide open.
Bell missed.
Chicago pushed right back. Their speed was real, not much worse than Phoenix.
Hinrich threw ahead to Deng, but Deng bobbled it, recovered, then dished to Yi cutting hard.
Yi took 2 long steps into the paint. He wanted to dunk, but Diop was right behind him, close enough to disrupt the takeoff. Yi could not fully elevate, so he settled for a right handed bank shot.
In the CBA, that was a dunk. In the NBA, even top Asian talent had to adjust to the size and contact.
As Yi landed, Diop grabbed the ball and inbounded immediately.
The pace kept climbing.
Nash drove toward the left side beyond the arc, then fired a cross court pass, already seeing Chen Yan sprinting into space.
Chen Yan caught it a step outside the line.
1 dribble.
Then his left hand rose, the suspended ball motion, the rhythm trigger.
Westbrook launched in desperation.
Only when he was in the air did he realize it again.
Chen Yan changed direction and blew by him.
Another Fake.
Same move, same result, and the most disrespectful part was that Chen Yan looked back at him after the blow by, like he was checking whether Westbrook had learned anything.
Chen Yan attacked the paint, gathered, and took off.
Hinrich was nearby, but he slid away. Stepping in front of a full speed Chen Yan was not defense, it was a medical bill.
Chen Yan brought the ball behind his head with both hands and hammered it down.
He hung on the rim and swung his legs, then stylishly kicked the ball after it dropped through, sending it bouncing up toward the stands.
Westbrook was getting overwhelmed from the opening minutes.
For Chen Yan, it was simple.
Chicago was not doubling him. They were not switching the matchup. They were not changing the coverage.
So he kept going back to the same spot and taking the same withdrawal.
Because nobody hated good numbers.
And for a shooting guard, scoring was still the clearest proof of value.
.....
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