173rd point! Game-Winner!
Bang!
Su Yan deliberately gave Pierce a brush of off-ball contact and sold him on a back-door cut.
One hard step down, then a sudden up-and-out jab.
"He's going outside!"
Both Pierce and Ray Allen gasped, wheeling in pursuit.
Su Yan smiled, dropped his hips and exploded right back downhill, scraping between the two.
A freebie?!
Looked like it.
But as Ray Allen and Pierce spun to chase, they rammed head-on into Wilson and David Lee.
My bad.
Su Yan's off-ball game is never just running—he weaponizes everything around him, hunting angles with his brain.
Beautiful!
Curry on the left shouted at the cut, learning on the fly and whipping the pass without a heartbeat's pause.
At the rim.
Tyson shoved Perkins aside, carving out space and slowing Garnett's help just enough.
Smack!
The instant Su Yan caught, no one stood in front—room for a full, uncoiled take-off.
That spelled trouble.
Spring Man Lv3 bounce plus Steel Tendons and Iron Bones Lv1 burst.
In that moment...it all detonated.
"This is MY house!"
Garnett sprang, roaring, arms stretched for the rejection.
Got a chance?!
Usually, yes.
But with every gift Su Yan owns unleashed, even the Big Bad Wolf had none.
They left the floor together.
A freeze-frame in mid-air.
Next second.
Still rising, Su Yan lifted the ball high over Garnett's head and tomahawked it through.
SLAMMMMMMM DUNK!
BOOM!
Su Yan just posterized Kevin Garnett.
Bzzzz...
The Garden hushed—then erupted like an earthquake.
"Oh my God!"
Reggie Miller's eyes bulged. "That's the Big Ticket, Kevin Garnett!"
Su Yan—he just put him on a poster?
My God.
Unreal.
Unbelievable.
Absolutely insane!!!
UN-BE-LIEVE-ABLE!
Drexler sat stunned, eyeballs on the floor.
Stealing Gentleman Sword Ray Allen, stuffing Truth Paul Pierce, dunking on the Big Ticket Kevin Garnett—
Su Yan just devoured the Green Shirts' big three!
53 points!
Down to a 3-point game. This isn't some Undrafted Player—this is superstar theatre!!!
The broadcast duo lost it.
The crowd lost it harder; after that dunk the Garden peaked—
Missed shot.
Make it up on D.
Su Yan kept them within arm's reach and the whole roster believing they could trade punches with the Green Shirts.
For minutes the game seesawed, white-hot.
Quickly.
Only 60 seconds left.
Celtics up two.
Tweet-tweet!
Coach D'Antoni burned a timeout.
No special play—everyone was rolling; he just wanted lungs.
Soon.
Back to action.
Drexler barked, "Su Yan's at 55 with a minute left!"
Reggie—
think he gets 60 tonight, first of the season?!
Yes!
Reggie Miller didn't blink. "Twelve triples, 55 points—he's lava."
Two more threes.
Not only 60, but a new personal-best 13 in a game.
Two birds, one stone.
History—though with the defense swarming, easier said than done.
And.
Not enough time.
We'll see—hold on!
Play resumed.
Final minute.
Curry brought it up; Su Yan lagged near mid-court, parking at the logo.
If no one tracked.
Curry would fling it there for a logo look.
Maybe.
He'd decide once the window opened.
Except Pierce chased him, yelling, "I've NEVER guarded anyone at the logo—this is embarrassing!"
I don't even know what I'm doing, but I'm camping here—no shot for you!
???
What's that mean?
Self-roast or compliment?
Su Yan couldn't tell, but he felt Pierce's irritation.
Exactly.
Like park ball: you dare a shooter, he keeps splashing; you press up and feel ridiculous.
Caught between.
Maddening.
Pierce was living it—though sticking to Su Yan was smart.
Su Yan wouldn't wait.
Off-ball bump + sprint + teammate screen.
He shook Pierce, dragged Garnett to the rim, looped baseline and popped out.
No catch, yet drew every Celtic eye.
Swish—
Curry launched a three.
Heavy pressure.
Clank.
Off—
David Lee batted the board to Wilson Chandler up top.
Instantly.
He flung it to Su Yan: 5.1 on the clock.
"Choke Su Yan and the Knicks crumble!"
Pierce's eyes flashed—one more stop and the win was theirs.
Slap!
Su Yan caught.
Against Pierce again, he rapid-fire crossed and retreated.
Pierce couldn't keep up.
All the way to the logo Su Yan faked a bullet pass, tugging Pierce's gaze.
Then.
Reading the clock, he rose and fired from the logo.
You could say...time forced it.
Or...the logo's in his range.
"A rushed logo three—don't tell me that's going in!"
Pierce scoffed.
No faith whatsoever.
The ball left Su Yan's hand; Pierce spun for the rebound.
As he hit the lane—
Swish!
Clean, loud nylon.
The Garden froze—then roared like surf!
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