Chapter 419: Don't Try to Predict Chen Yan, Elite Skill
Both teams came out with real intent. Phoenix wanted to run, New Orleans wanted to prove they could survive the track meet without getting swallowed by it.
The Suns' offense stayed true to their identity. Nash and Amar'e ran the middle pick and roll, while Chen Yan drifted into the corner like an assassin waiting for a target.
But the Hornets were not giving him another gift.
Rasual Butler stayed glued to Chen Yan, refusing to help off him even when Nash turned the corner. Butler understood the simplest math on the floor, a layup was 2 points, a 3 was 3. If you had to choose what to take away, you started with the 3.
With Chen Yan and Grant Hill stationed beyond the arc and Diaw floating near the high post, the lane opened. Nash used the screen and went straight to the rim.
Tyson Chandler rotated to help. His athleticism was absurd, so Nash tried to float it higher than usual, just to keep Chandler's fingers out of the play.
The ball rolled around the rim once, then spun out.
Chandler landed and immediately bounced back up, grabbing the defensive rebound on his second jump like it was nothing.
New Orleans pushed. Paul advanced with his head up and swung it to Peja on the wing.
Hill sprinted back and rose for the block. Peja pump faked, let Hill fly past, and the rhythm disappeared.
Clang.
The moment the rim rang, Chen Yan turned and sprinted back without thinking. It was pure instinct. A huge portion of his scoring came from these moments, when defense was still organizing and his legs were already gone.
The Hornets were not balanced in transition. Paul, Peja, and Butler were already in the frontcourt, while Chandler and David West were still behind the play.
Nash secured the rebound and fired a long outlet to Hill.
Hill dribbled over half court, then hit a crossover near the free throw line, cleanly slipping past David West.
Hill was not the same athlete he used to be, but against a big like West, he still had enough burst to create separation.
With only Chandler left as the last line, Hill attacked the paint. As he took a long stride, he turned his head toward Chen Yan cutting hard along the other side.
This time, Hill did not tease him.
He flicked the ball with his left hand.
Chen Yan caught, rose, and finished the layup.
7 to 4.
"Chen, you should've dunked that one," Hill said with a grin as he slapped Chen Yan's hand.
"I thought you were gonna fake me again," Chen Yan replied, breathing out a laugh. "So I didn't sprint at full speed."
Hill burst out laughing. "Fair."
…
Peja inbounded, and Byron Scott's voice cut through the noise from the sideline.
"Slow it down. Don't let them set the pace."
Scott knew what happened when teams got dragged into Phoenix's rhythm. It did not matter who you were. If you ran with the Suns for 48 minutes, you usually lost.
Against Phoenix, the textbook answer was always the same, slow the game down, play more half court basketball, make every possession feel heavy.
The problem was Phoenix did not ask for permission. They took every crack of daylight and turned it into a fast break.
Clang.
West came off a pick and roll, caught at the free throw line, and missed the mid range jumper.
Chen Yan tracked it down, grabbed the defensive rebound himself, and the Suns were gone again.
He exploded up the floor, muscling past Butler, slicing into the paint like a lone runner breaking a defensive line.
Every Hornets eye snapped toward him.
Chen Yan kept driving, then found a narrow seam between Peja and Paul and flipped the ball behind his back.
One bounce.
Amar'e arrived like a freight train, caught it in stride, and hammered it down with his right hand.
9 to 4.
It was the kind of play that belonged on the nightly highlight reel, and even a few Hornets fans in the building could not help clapping.
On TNT, Barkley laughed. "Chen is terrifying in transition. New Orleans is staring at him like he's a fire alarm."
Kenny nodded. "The Suns got their rhythm early. The Hornets have to slow this down."
Barkley waved him off. "Or don't. The fans love this."
Kenny side eyed him. "Charles, you love this."
Barkley smiled like he had been caught. "I do."
Byron Scott was not smiling. He called timeout immediately.
He was too smart to be stingy with timeouts. If Phoenix built a wave in the first quarter, the game could get ugly fast.
…
After the timeout, New Orleans moved the ball with more patience, clearly trying to control the tempo.
The constant cutting finally opened a crack. Peja slipped into the lane, kicked it out, and Butler was wide open on the wing.
Swish.
9 to 7.
Butler was the classic 3 and D guy, defend, spot up, hit the corner and wing 3s. Quiet most nights, dangerous when the jumper warmed up.
In that Hornets starting group, aside from Chandler, nobody could be ignored.
…
Phoenix came back and Chen Yan did not camp in the corner this time. With Butler attached to him like sticky candy, standing still was pointless.
He tried to shake free with an off ball screen from Hill, but Hill did not set it tight enough. Butler slipped around and stayed connected.
Nash hit Chen Yan at the left wing, near the 45 degree angle outside the arc. Butler closed hard, crowding him and refusing to let him face up comfortably.
Butler was physical, hands active, chest pressed close, trying to make every touch annoying.
Chen Yan barely blinked. After spending time trading real contact with Kobe, this felt like a warmup.
He held the ball with one hand, body angled, and Amar'e started to step up for a screen out of habit.
Butler saw Amar'e in the corner of his eye. The moment Chen Yan leaned, Butler moved early, preparing to slip around the screen before it even arrived.
That was the mistake.
Chen Yan snapped a one hand in and out dribble, pure deception, and Butler's early step turned into a gift.
Chen Yan blew right past him.
Sometimes, defending Chen Yan was a trap. The more you tried to predict, the more you helped him. You guessed his next move, and he guessed your guess.
Butler lost the angle and did not even bother chasing full speed. He knew what it meant when Chen Yan got a shoulder ahead.
Chandler stepped up to help.
Chen Yan attacked the big man with pace, then, right before contact, hit a quick two hand change of direction, alternating the dribble so fast it looked like the ball disappeared for a split second.
He slid past Chandler's reach, gathered cleanly, and elevated in one smooth motion.
Chandler spun and tried to recover for the block.
Chen Yan felt it coming. Hanging in the air, he switched hands and finished a reverse layup on the far side of the rim.
The ball kissed high off the backboard and dropped through.
Chandler's block had looked possible.
Then it wasn't.
Not because the defense was wrong, but because Chen Yan's touch was simply elite.
.....
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