Chapter 251: Controversial Penalty, a Precursor to the Outbreak
The game resumed.
With the fourth quarter ticking down, both teams brought their strongest lineups back onto the floor. The atmosphere inside the Pepsi Center was boiling. Every possession mattered now.
From the TNT booth, Kenny Smith commented, "Phoenix is still down double digits. They have not found any rhythm all night. They look uncomfortable in this Denver altitude."
Barkley shook his head. "Someone in a Suns jersey has to step up. Right now."
The Nuggets began their possession. Iverson slowed the pace, letting the clock drift across half court. With the lead on their side, tempo control was everything.
Using a screen from Camby, Iverson drove inside. Stoudemire slid in to cut him off. Seeing no opening, Iverson spun and kicked the ball out to Carmelo.
Anthony caught it in the mid post, backed down, then rose for a signature turnaround jumper just as the shot clock nearly expired.
The shot bricked off the rim.
But Denver's possession was not over.
Marcus Camby exploded upward, snatching the offensive rebound over Stoudemire. Without hesitation, he went straight back up for a put back jumper.
Stoudemire rotated over and went for the block.
A loud slap echoed through the arena.
The whistle blew. Foul on Stoudemire.
The Nuggets fans roared.
Camby went to the line. His first free throw dropped cleanly. His second bounced off the front rim.
Before Phoenix could react, Kenyon Martin sprinted from outside the paint and grabbed the rebound again. He forced up a layup through traffic.
The ball dropped in.
Nuggets up 94 to 79.
Three offensive chances in a single possession.
D'Antoni paced with frustration on the sideline, but he could do nothing. This was the downside of running small lineups without a true center. And with Chen Yan in foul trouble, he couldn't crash the boards without risk.
Phoenix went back on offense.
This time, Chen Yan and Stoudemire initiated a pick and roll. But it wasn't a real pick and roll. It was a fake action. After showing the screen, Stoudemire suddenly sprinted straight to the rim.
Chen threaded the pass perfectly into the gap.
Stoudemire took two explosive steps from the free throw line and rose to hammer down a dunk over Kleiza.
The ball rattled out.
A miss that looked impossible on most nights.
Barkley groaned. "That has to go down. Man, the Suns look tired."
Kenny added, "Altitude gets to you. Stoudemire's legs are not the same right now."
D'Antoni stayed silent. On court adjustments were not his strength. He could only trust his players to figure it out.
The Nuggets ran their next possession. Iverson used another screen, but this time Stoudemire ignored Camby completely and joined Nash in a hard trap on Iverson.
The double team worked.
Iverson panicked, lost sight of the passing lane, and threw a desperate ball that Chen Yan intercepted in stride.
This was Phoenix's cue.
Chen burst into the open floor.
Kenyon Martin hustled back and planted himself defensively in the paint.
Chen drove full speed straight at him. Both players launched upward, colliding in mid air. Martin's hands swung across Chen's body, knocking him and the ball toward the baseline.
Everyone waited for the whistle.
The referee hesitated.
Then pointed in the opposite direction.
Nuggets ball.
The Suns froze in disbelief.
Even fans watching at home exploded online.
"You have to be blind to miss that!"
"That push was the size of a car!"
"Martin did not jump vertically, he shoved with both arms!"
"The refs tonight are unbelievable!"
But the angriest man in the building was Chen Yan.
Before his teammates could stop him, Chen rushed straight at the referee.
His roar echoed through the arena.
The whistle sounded again.
Technical foul. On Chen Yan.
The Pepsi Center reacted like a volcano erupting. Nuggets fans howled with laughter and cheers. They could sense momentum swinging fully in their favor.
Phoenix players rushed over and pulled Chen away. D'Antoni's face tightened even further. The situation was sliding downhill rapidly.
Iverson stepped to the line for the technical free throw. He was the safest shooter on the Nuggets roster.
While Iverson lined up, Chen walked calmly to the sideline. He grabbed a tissue, spit out his gum, wrapped it, and tossed it into the trash. Then he walked back toward the court.
The cameras locked on him. Fans had no idea what the gesture meant, but something about it felt different.
Iverson shot.
The ball clanged off the rim.
Miss.
The score remained at fifteen with under five minutes to go.
Time was running out for Phoenix.
Denver attacked again. Their passing was slow and hesitant. The ball passed around the perimeter without finding a shot. With the shot clock winding down, Iverson pulled up from the high post.
He missed again.
Camby leaped for another offensive rebound, but this time Stoudemire boxed him out long enough for Diaw to come flying in and secure it. Diaw immediately fired the outlet to Nash.
Once he reached the frontcourt, Chen Yan raised a hand.
He wanted the ball.
He needed the ball.
Nash delivered.
Chen faced Kenyon Martin in single coverage. Martin puffed out his chest and barked trash talk immediately.
"You are not scoring on me. Not tonight."
He was loud. Confident. Too confident.
Chen did not respond. He was already mapping his attack.
A sudden change of speed. A cross. A hard stop. A reel back. Then an immediate rise into a pull up three.
Martin barely lifted his arms. He did not even get time to jump.
The ball sliced clean through the net.
Chen jogged backward, silent.
He held up two fingers.
Then repeated softly to himself.
"Twelve… twelve…"
The point gap.
The number he would go after.
The number he would erase.
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