Chapter 581: Intentional or Accidental?
Chen Yan ripped off 5 straight points, and the effect was immediate.
Phoenix's energy on both ends spiked. The Suns pressed harder, ran faster, and attacked with more conviction. Boston, caught off guard by the sudden surge, went cold for a stretch.
2 more minutes passed, and the score had widened to 16 to 8.
Seeing the game starting to tilt, Doc Rivers quickly called timeout.
Boston's momentum had been completely smothered.
During the break, Rivers told his players not to get dragged into a pure track meet with Phoenix. Once the game became a sprint, it would fall right into the Suns' hands.
That was easy enough to say. Doing it on the court was another matter.
On offense, Rivers simplified everything. If Rose or Durant saw an opening, they were to attack immediately. Everyone else was there to screen, space the floor, and stay out of the way.
It was not a bad plan. When a team had 2 elite young scorers like Rose and Durant, overcomplicating things often did more harm than good.
Out of the timeout, Rose took the ball and went to work.
Perkins stepped up high to set the screen.
Rose feinted right, then exploded through the gap between Perkins and Stoudemire. His burst was absurd. Once he slipped through, he gathered with a hop step and knifed straight into the lane.
That was one of his signature moves.
Diaw rotated over to help, but Rose never hesitated. He rose right into him, twisted in midair, and finished with a reverse layup.
16 to 10.
It was pure individual brilliance.
Boston did not need much structure when Rose and Durant were this gifted. Letting those 2 take turns attacking was already enough to give Phoenix problems.
On the next Suns possession, the ball popped around beautifully.
Nash drove and kicked to Chen Yan. Chen Yan sold a fake, attacked the paint, then fired the ball out to Raja Bell. Bell caught it at the 3 point line, but instead of forcing the shot, he swung it to a completely open Stoudemire.
2 straight drives had crushed the Celtics' shell and left Stoudemire free in the midrange.
With no defender near him, Stoudemire shot it almost too casually.
The ball came up short.
Davis grabbed the rebound under the rim and immediately found Rose.
Rose flew into the frontcourt, then wisely hit the brakes. He remembered exactly what Rivers had just told him. No reckless race with Phoenix. No donating possessions to the Suns' tempo.
That was one of the biggest differences between Rose and Westbrook.
Both had explosive athletic tools, but Rose rarely lost his head. That was why Chen Yan had always been so high on the idea of a Rose and Durant backcourt. He believed that pairing would absolutely threaten Phoenix in the future.
In truth, it already could.
Rose stopped on the wing and whipped the ball across to Tony Allen.
Tony Allen held it outside the arc, and Chen Yan gave him a full step of space.
That was not disrespect. It was scouting.
Tony Allen was not a 3 point shooter. Up to this point in his career, he had never even averaged more than 1 attempt per game from deep. Chen Yan was perfectly comfortable living with that shot, especially with Rose and Durant both looking dangerous tonight.
If Boston wanted someone else to beat them, fine.
Tony Allen saw the ocean of space in front of him and decided he had to take it.
The release looked clean enough, but his touch from long range was exactly what Chen Yan expected. The shot had slightly too much juice and bounced off the rim.
The rebound flew high, and Durant soared in to snatch it.
Perkins and Davis sealed off Phoenix's bigs with their bulk, and Boston's size paid off.
Durant secured the offensive board a step inside the free throw line.
Chen Yan flashed in from the side, ready to swipe down on the ball.
He was half a beat late.
Durant had already brought it up, and Chen Yan's hand landed squarely in the wrong place.
Durant yelped and folded over immediately, clutching his groin.
The whistle blew. Defensive foul. 2 free throws for Durant.
There was nothing theatrical about that reaction. It clearly hurt.
Durant did not even go straight to the line. He stayed bent over for several seconds before slowly straightening up.
Chen Yan patted him on the shoulder. "You alright?"
Durant forced out a breath. "I'm good."
He said he was fine, but the look in his eyes suggested he was filing a complaint with the basketball gods.
At the line, he was still clearly bothered. He made the first and missed the second.
16 to 11.
Chen Yan secured the rebound and pushed the ball himself, picking up speed fast.
Tony Allen got nervous 2 steps beyond the 3 point line because Chen Yan was already in range from there.
Seeing Allen edge up, Chen Yan hit a second burst, gained half a step, and got free.
That was one of the hidden benefits of his shooting range. It stretched defenders so far out that his driving lanes opened earlier than anyone else's.
He stayed low and attacked the rim hard. Just as he rose, Durant came over from the side and dragged him down.
It was a pure tactical foul.
Chen Yan instinctively kicked his right leg out in the air to steady himself.
Durant cried out again.
This time, Chen Yan's shoe had caught him in the same place.
A hand was bad enough. A sneaker was worse.
Durant stayed doubled over even longer this time. From the sideline, even his mother would probably have felt sympathetic.
Chen Yan had nothing useful to say. Another apology would only make it more awkward.
After a long pause, Durant finally recovered enough to glare at him with an expression that practically said, Was that intentional or accidental?
Chen Yan could only feel speechless. It really had not been on purpose. Sometimes basketball just had a twisted sense of humor.
He stepped to the line and calmly knocked down both free throws.
18 to 11.
Boston settled back into the half court.
Durant demanded the ball on the left wing with Raja Bell crowding him. Against most big wings, fronting the post could work, but not against Durant. He was too fluid, too quick, too guard like for that to be reliable.
Once he got the catch, Boston cleared the strong side and let him operate.
Durant kept it simple. A couple of probing dribbles, rise up, fire.
Pure size mismatch.
The jumper dropped.
18 to 13.
For the next few minutes, both teams kept scoring at a high clip. With 2 minutes left in the quarter, both coaches began going to their benches.
Rondo checked in with his usual stone face. He barely spoke to Rivers anymore. Their relationship had already frayed badly over role issues and minutes, and everyone around the team knew it.
Still, whatever he felt about the coach never affected how he played.
The moment he stepped on the court, he made things happen. First he set up a teammate for a basket. Then he slithered into the lane and floated in 2 of his own.
His form was excellent.
The reason Rivers was still willing to play him through all the tension was simple. If Rondo kept producing, Boston could still flip him for something useful at the trade deadline.
The Celtics did not even need much. Just a mobile defensive big who could run, jump, and survive on the floor with the starters.
If they found that piece, their opening lineup would become even more dangerous.
.....
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