A 21-point deficit in half a quarter!
The Suns had completely given up, once again accepting the reality of defeat. The home fans were unfazed—some had already decided the team was tanking this season to rebuild.
The starters rested on the bench. Fans chatted in small groups. The commentators rambled about unrelated topics. No one was paying attention to the game.
But the game was still going.
After the timeout...
Blake Su finally checked in. He glanced at the score and the clock, gathered his focus, and murmured, "Half a quarter, down 21? That's tough.
But... it's not impossible."
Suns ball.
Backup guard Goran Dragić brought it up. Seeing Blake Su, a towering center, standing at the top of the arc, he hesitated for a moment before swinging the ball over, then quickly cut to the side.
He wanted Blake Su to facilitate.
But Blake Su had no intention of passing. Dragić was still raw at this stage, and Blake Su, finally getting a chance to show himself, wasn't about to give it up.
"Snap!"
Catching the ball at the top of the key, Blake Su faced Wizards wing Cartier Martin. Seeing a center lingering on the perimeter, Martin's eyes sharpened as he lunged in for the steal.
Blake Su stayed calm. The instant Martin reached out, Blake Su slipped the ball through his legs, sidestepped the swipe, then burst to the right—blowing past Martin in one clean step.
"Huh?"
Martin froze. He hadn't expected this unfamiliar center to be so quick.
"Swish!"
Before Martin could recover, Blake Su pulled up just to the right of the free-throw line. The ball arced beautifully and dropped straight through the net.
Swish.
Mid-range jumper.
It sounded like a lot, but it all happened in a heartbeat—smooth, fluid, effortless.
On the bench, Steve Nash had been watching Blake Su the entire time. That textbook jumper left him both shocked and thrilled. He muttered, "So that confidence earlier… it really came from skill?"
On the court, though, aside from Nash, no one cared.
The gap was still massive. With both sides running their benches, the result felt sealed. Everyone assumed the Wizards already had this one.
"Clang!"
Reserve forward Trevor Booker attacked the rim and missed. Blake Su secured the rebound. Dragić reached out for the ball, but Blake Su pushed it ahead himself.
A center bringing the ball up?
Dragić shook his head, mildly dissatisfied. But before he could say anything, Blake Su stopped suddenly at the free-throw line and rose up again.
Swish.
"Again?"
Dragić froze.
Next possession—another jumper. This time Blake Su rose right into Martin's contest and buried it anyway, completely unreasonable.
"What?!"
Dragić was stunned—not just because Blake Su had hit three straight shots, but because a massive center was calmly pulling up from the perimeter again and again.
Equally stunned... was Steve Nash.
"Haha!"
Nash was ecstatic. Blake Su's performance was far beyond anything he'd imagined.
Some were celebrating. Others were suffering.
Nash was delighted, but Martin—the Wizards forward who'd been guarding Blake Su on every possession—was miserable. Angry, even. Furious that he couldn't stop a center on the perimeter.
Taking the instinctive pass from Dragić, Blake Su caught it at the right high post, once again matched up with Martin.
"Try it again! This time I'm blocking you! Centers should stay in the paint!"
Martin roared.
"You're too weak."
Blake Su shook his head.
"What did you say?!"
Martin exploded with rage, lunging forward. Blake Su didn't even look at him—he gathered the ball and went straight up, snapping his wrist as he released another jumper.
"Get blocked!"
Martin snarled and leapt to contest. But with the height difference—and Blake Su's Iverson's Talent—there was no chance.
"Swish!"
The ball sailed well beyond Martin's fingertips. He turned his head in disbelief, just in time to see it drop cleanly through the net again.
"Nice shot!"
Dragić shouted in excitement. Nash jumped up on the bench. "Unbelievable—Blake Su's mid-range is insane."
Blake Su glanced at Martin coolly. "Hey, can you take this seriously? Jump higher. Give me some defensive pressure."
"Aaaargh!"
Martin screamed. He'd gone all out and was still being mocked—by a rookie.
Miss after miss. Taunt after taunt.
He finally snapped.
On offense, Martin grabbed the ball and charged straight at Blake Su. He powered through, bumping him aside and storming toward the rim.
"Hmph!"
He gathered and leapt, ready to vent his anger with a dunk—
But at the moment he rose, a massive hand came crashing down from above, swatting the ball away.
Who was it?!
Blake Su!
"What?!"
Martin's face went pale.
"Whoa! What kind of vertical is that?!"
On the bench, Steve Nash couldn't sit still anymore.
Blake Su landed, then immediately jumped again to secure the rebound. He kicked it out to Dragić and sprinted up the floor. Without hesitation, Dragić found him again at the left high post.
Martin charged out, eyes bloodshot, clinging to Blake Su like a madman.
Blake Su ignored him. He leaned forward, lowered his center of gravity, planted his feet—
Then exploded down the right side, blowing past Martin in one step.
Screech!
He stopped on a dime and faded back.
"Aaaargh!"
Martin lunged in panic, his hand slapping Blake Su's arm.
"Beep! Beep!"
The whistle blew.
Swish!
The shot still went in.
"Impossible!"
Martin roared in despair. He couldn't believe it—this unremarkable-looking center was shooting like poetry from the perimeter.
And that made it five straight.
Swish!
At the line, Blake Su calmly knocked down the free throw.
In just two minutes, Blake Su went 5-for-5 and poured in 11 straight points, cutting the deficit to just 10.
"Beeep—beep!"
Wizards head coach Philip Saunders called a timeout. Even with a double-digit lead, his eyes were locked on Blake Su. He needed this break to figure out who this unfamiliar center really was.
Suns bench.
Blake Su sat down, rolling his shoulders and arms, clearly satisfied with his newly reborn body.
"Two minutes, 11 straight points—Blake Su, you're something else!"
Steve Nash jogged over, tossed him a white towel, and gave him a solid pat on the back, grinning.
Blake Su wiped his sweat, shrugged, and smiled lightly. "The opponents were too weak. It's nothing special. If it were someone like John Wall, that might actually be interesting."
"You're way too modest."