Chapter 155: A Spy Appears in the Lakers Team?
Garnett had played nearly the entire first half. Kobe too had been burning energy on both ends. Phil Jackson originally planned to rest them midway through the third quarter, but the situation didn't allow it.
87–75. The deficit was back into double digits.
Coming out of the timeout, the Wolf King and the Black Mamba checked in together. The Suns kept their lineup unchanged.
It was the Lakers' ball.
Kobe dribbled across half court, calm but clearly sizing up the moment. He motioned Garnett forward for a screen.
Garnett set his feet, Kobe came off the pick, drew attention, then at the last second dropped the ball back to his big man cutting inside.
The decision was sharp. The Lakers didn't need a highlight; they needed stability. And against the Suns' small-ball lineup, Garnett had a clear advantage.
In the paint, Garnett rose up, shooting over Diaw and Azubuike. Bucket. And the whistle.
2+1.
Garnett bellowed into the baseline cameras, his roar shaking the building. He hit the free throw, then slapped his chest and screamed to his teammates:
"Guard up! Guard one!"
The energy spread like fire.
On the very next play, Barea forced a bad pass, Kobe swooped in for the steal, and hammered home a dunk.
87–80. Just like that, five straight points and the deficit was cut to seven.
The Suns tried to respond. Chen Yan called for a high screen, but Garnett and Kobe blitzed him hard. Superstar defense. With Nash and Stoudemire resting, the Suns' offense was one-dimensional, and the Lakers knew it.
Chen Yan danced out of the trap, hung in the air, and slung a pass past both defenders into Diaw's hands.
The pass was brilliant—threading the needle—but Diaw's jumper clanged off the rim. He slapped his hands in frustration.
The Lakers seized the chance. Kobe slowed the tempo, drew the defense, and fed Garnett on the block. Garnett pounded twice, spun, kissed it off glass.
87–82.
The comeback was alive.
Chen Yan answered with a hard drive on Radmanovic, drawing contact and two free throws. He knocked both down. But on the other end, Kobe curled off a screen, rose up, and buried a pull-up three.
Garnett owned the paint, Kobe hit from outside. In four minutes they carved out a 15–5 run. Suddenly, the Suns' lead was down to two.
Even Chen Yan was momentarily stunned. It felt like the Lakers had flipped a switch, unleashing two superstars at once.
Timeout Suns.
D'Antoni sent Nash, Raja Bell, and Stoudemire back in, reuniting his starters. Across the floor, Phil Jackson refused to rest Kobe or Garnett.
The Lakers had momentum. The Suns had fresher legs. Something had to give.
---
First possession back, Chen Yan used a screen and attacked the lane. Kwame Brown waited inside. Chen gave him a lightning quick fake, switched hands mid-air, and flipped in a smooth left-handed layup.
Textbook guard-on-big mismatch.
The crowd roared. Chen slapped hands with Stoudemire and Nash on the way back, knowing their spacing had given him the lane.
Basketball looks like hero ball sometimes, but every drive needs the right stage.
On the Lakers' turn, Kobe backed down Raja Bell. Bell fought, swiping at the ball, but drew a whistle. Kobe went to the line, made one of two.
The game slowed, grinding into half-court possessions. Neither side scored for nearly a minute.
Then, with 20 seconds left in the third quarter, the Suns prepared their final shot.
Stoudemire caught it high, handed off to Chen Yan curling around. Kobe fought through the screen and met him face-to-face.
Eight seconds on the clock.
Chen danced with the ball—crossovers, hesitations—then burst to the sideline. Kobe cut him off.
From the bench, Phil Jackson barked:
"Double! Don't let him shoot!"
The idea was right. The execution? A disaster.
Kwame Brown lunged forward to help. But instead of trapping Chen Yan, he ended up blocking Kobe's path.
The trap turned into a wall—on his own teammate.
Chen Yan saw daylight. He exploded past both, slicing into the paint. Garnett rotated, rising for the contest. Chen hung in the air, waited, then slipped the ball under Garnett's armpit.
Diaw was waiting. Layup. At the buzzer.
91–95.
The arena erupted.
The broadcast cut straight to Kobe's face. He stood frozen, lips pressed tight, then walked straight to the bench without acknowledging Kwame Brown.
Kwame trotted after him, mouthing excuses, hands gesturing wildly. But Kobe never looked back.
Social media exploded instantly.
"Hahaha, Kwame Brown just set the best screen of the night—on his own teammate!"
"Kobe must be fuming right now."
"Kwame, go to the Suns' front office after the game and collect your paycheck."
"Headline idea: Shocking! The Lakers' spy was actually Kwame Brown all along!"
The fans laughed, but inside, Kobe wasn't.
He knew one thing: mistakes like that could cost games.
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