American Airlines Center was a pressure cooker. Fans screamed, "WE WANT THE FINALS!" as the Mavs ran out, Doncic's jaw set, no smile.
First quarter: Doncic came out firing, iso after iso, but Lin Mo stayed with him—fast dribble, no patience—and Doncic missed 5 of his first 6 shots. Lakers led 28-20, Lin Mo with 3 steals.
"Told you he'd rush," LeBron said.
Second quarter: Mavs fought back, Hardy hitting 3s, Gobert dominating the paint. Lead tied 52-52 at halftime. Doncic had 12, but shot 4-for-14.
Third quarter: Doncic tried to rally, hitting a 3 over Lin Mo, but his left knee wobbled on the landing—tired, just like the tape. Lin Mo pushed the pace, feeding Russell for a 3, then stealing a pass to ice the lead to 10.
Fourth quarter: 6 minutes left, lead 15. Doncic kept shooting, but his shots clanged off the rim, his passes sailing wide. The crowd fell silent, then started leaving—early.
With 2 minutes left, Lin Mo subbed out, the game in hand. He high-fived LeBron, who pulled him into a hug. "You did it, kid."
Final score: Lakers 118, Mavs 99. Series 3-1.
In the locker room, Lin Mo held up the thimble, its surface now marked with scratches—from screens, from dives, from the fight. "One more stitch," he said.
LeBron nodded, grinning. "One more."
Outside, Dallas' skyline still glowed, but the noise had faded. The Western Finals thread was almost sewn. Just one more needle push, and the fabric would hold.