Three minutes left. The score was 102-100, Warriors. The arena's big screen cut to a replay of Curry's latest three—a step-back from 35 feet, so casual it looked like he was tossing a ball to a kid in the park—and the crowd booed, but it was half-hearted. Even Spurs fans had to admit: that shot was magic.
Wembanyama had the ball now, iso against the green-bearded forward. He tried to drive left, but the forward's shoulder checked him hard, and Wembanyama lost the ball. It skittered toward the Warriors' bench, where a giant inflatable ornament—red, with "2024 Champs?" printed on it in gold—bobbed above their water cooler. The ball smacked into the ornament, and there was a loud crack.
The arena went quiet. The ornament sagged, a spiderweb of cracks spreading across its surface, and a sliver of plastic popped off, fluttering to the floor like a fallen tinsel strand.
"Clumsy ass!" the Warriors' forward barked, but Wembanyama wasn't listening. He was staring at the cracked ornament, and for some reason, he thought of his little sister's favorite Christmas bauble—an old glass snowman, chipped on the nose, that she'd refused to throw away. "Broken things are still beautiful," she'd said, when he'd asked. "They just tell better stories."
Lin Mo's voice boomed from the bench. "Stories! That's what this is, kid! You wanna write a boring one? Or a good one?"
Wembanyama grabbed the ball, inbounded it, and sprinted upcourt. The Warriors' defense collapsed on him, but he threaded a pass to his guard, who missed the layup. Rebound to Curry, who sprinted, but Wembanyama chased him down, leaping to block the layup—smack—the ball flying out of bounds.
"Good story so far!" Lin Mo yelled.
Curry glared, but there was a flicker of respect in his eyes. He inbounded to the green-bearded forward, who tried to back down Wembanyama, but Wembanyama stood his ground, knees bent, hands up. "You ain't moving me," he muttered. The forward grunted, spun, and shot—and Wembanyama swatted it again, this time into the hands of a Spurs teammate.
Fast break: Wembanyama caught the ball at half-court, took three long strides, and dunked—hard enough that the rim shook. The net snapped upward, then settled, and the score tied: 102-102.
The cracked ornament wobbled above the Warriors' bench. Wembanyama pointed at it as he jogged back, and for a second, it looked like the cracks were glowing.