Chapter 126: Three Losses in Five Games, Rebounding from the Bottom!
A day later, the Suns continued their home stretch, this time hosting the Los Angeles Clippers.
It was their second matchup of the season—both teams in the Pacific Division, set to clash four times a year. But unlike the Suns, who had their eyes on a championship, the Clippers were firmly in rebuild mode, gunning for a lottery pick. There was never much suspense.
As expected, the Suns cruised to a 108–85 victory.
It was a well-rounded performance—seven Suns players scored in double figures. Wins like this, where the offense flows and the defense holds, are the easiest.
Chen Yan played just about two and a half quarters, putting up 17 points and 5 assists before the game slipped into garbage time.
On the Clippers' side, with Elton Brand out, Corey Maggette led with 25 points and 5 boards. Decent on paper—but anyone watching knew most of those points were empty calories. They didn't affect the game's outcome.
After wrapping up the home win, the Suns packed their bags for a brutal week-long road trip.
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Stop One: Dallas
Their first stop was in Texas, taking on the Mavericks.
Since their shocking playoff exit to the Warriors last season, Dallas had been the league's punchline. Dirk Nowitzki, once the pride of the franchise, got hit with every label imaginable—soft, fraud MVP, playoff choker.
But this season, the German machine came back locked in, looking for redemption.
In the offseason, Mark Cuban brought in Ray Allen, giving Dirk the All-Star shooter he never had. With Allen's arrival, Dallas became even more dangerous from deep. Despite the hate from the media, they were still contenders.
The game tipped off—and Dirk came out firing.
Two quick mid-range jumpers. Signature golden rooster stance. Fadeaways that were impossible to block. When he gets hot, it's not about defending him—it's about praying he misses.
And tonight? He wasn't missing.
By halftime, Dirk had 23 points, including 6-of-8 from beyond the arc.
Ray Allen? Just as lethal. He buried five threes in the first half.
It was raining from deep at the American Airlines Center.
In the second half, the Mavs kept the pressure on, and the home crowd roared with every bucket. The Suns struggled to match their energy and intensity. They mounted a small 11–3 run late in the fourth, led by Chen Yan, but the hole was too deep.
Final score: Mavericks 111, Suns 103.
Chen Yan and Stoudemire both dropped 25 points, but it wasn't enough. Five Suns hit double digits, but the Mavericks' barrage from the perimeter was just overwhelming.
Dirk and Ray combined for fourteen threes. Fourteen!
Terry added 2-for-4. Josh Howard shot a perfect 2-for-2. Eddie Jones and Stackhouse chipped in a couple more.
It wasn't just a loss—it was a three-point beatdown.
Sometimes, in an 82-game grind, you run into a team that just can't miss. Tonight was one of those nights.
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Stop Two: Salt Lake City
There was no time to dwell on the loss. Less than 48 hours later, the Suns flew into Utah to face the Jazz.
The Jazz were sixth in the West, though their record would've landed them top-four in the East. The West was just that stacked this year.
The Suns, Lakers, Spurs, Hornets, and Mavericks were all legitimate contenders. The Trail Blazers were on the rise. The Nuggets' dynamic backcourt and the Yao–McGrady duo in Houston were no slouches either.
In that kind of battlefield, sitting sixth meant the Jazz were no joke.
What made them dangerous wasn't star power—it was system. Jerry Sloan was still running the show, and under his disciplined, grind-it-out system, Deron Williams and Carlos Boozer looked like All-Stars.
The same guys who would regress in other systems were thriving in Sloan's.
The game started with textbook pick-and-roll execution. Deron was slicing up the defense, Boozer was knocking down jumpers, and the Suns looked lost.
A brutal combination of a back-to-back and playing in one of the league's toughest arenas had the Suns completely off rhythm.
They managed just 18 points in the first quarter. Worse, they were 0-for-6 from deep—completely cold.
For a team that lived and died by jump shots, this was lethal.
In the second quarter, Coach D'Antoni finally made an adjustment—he scrapped the spacing-heavy offense and let Chen Yan attack downhill.
It worked—kind of. Chen started getting to the line, collapsing the defense, and cutting the deficit to single digits by halftime.
But in the third quarter, Mehmet Okur stepped up.
The Jazz's sweet-shooting center splashed back-to-back threes from the top of the arc, and the energy in the arena exploded.
Nash tried to generate offense, threading passes all over the place, but his teammates still couldn't find their rhythm.
Chen Yan went full beast mode, scoring 35 points on a mix of acrobatic drives, tough and-ones, and transition buckets.
But it was an empty performance.
Final score: Jazz 109, Suns 97.
Chen's 35 couldn't save them. Another road loss. Another frustrating night.
He didn't linger postgame. Just answered a few quick questions, gave short answers, and got on the team bus.
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Media Frenzy
Back in China, sports headlines blew up with praise:
"35 Points Not Enough to Save the Team!"
"Chen Yan Shines Bright in Team's Struggles!"
"Teammates Holding Chen Back?"
Some outlets even threw the Suns under the bus, suggesting Chen was being dragged down by his teammates.
He glanced at a few articles on his phone, snorted, and closed the tab. He wasn't buying it.
He knew his guys. Everyone had rough nights. Hell, he wasn't exactly lights out the night before.
This wasn't about blame—it was about regrouping.
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Road Trip Finale: San Antonio
The Suns split their next two games. One win. One loss. That brought them to December 15th—last stop on the road trip.
San Antonio.
The arch-rival.
Three losses in five games. The mood in the locker room was heavy.
After practice, the team huddled together.
No speeches. Just a shared look. A silent agreement: Tonight, we rebound.
---
Tip-off at the AT&T Center
"Chen! Look over here!"
"Yo Chen, can I get an autograph?"
"Light 'em up tonight, man!"
Chen Yan glanced around during warm-ups, a smile tugging at his lips. That wasn't Spurs Nation chanting—it was burnt orange.
These were Texas Longhorns fans.
Austin was just an hour's drive from San Antonio, and a small army of them had shown up in their old college jerseys to support their former star.
Chen recognized faces in the crowd—old season ticket holders, campus regulars, die-hards.
He jogged over after warm-ups, bumping fists, cracking jokes, laughing like they were all still back in the NCAA.
It had been half a year since he left college, and they still rode with him.
That feeling? Electric.
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