Chapter 302: Duncan Uneasy, Chen Points at the Camera
"It is good. Huge shot. The Suns cut it to a 4 point game off that three from Chen Yan," Charles Barkley yelled from the TNT booth.
On the floor, Chen clenched his fist and roared.
For him and for the Suns, that shot was a lifeline.
He did not stay in the moment long. The celebration lasted a heartbeat, then he forced himself calm and sprinted back on defense.
San Antonio did not panic.
Phoenix tried for a quick trap on the inbound, but when the steal did not materialize, Matt Barnes, who had replaced the fouled out Stoudemire, wrapped up Ginobili and sent him to the free throw line again.
Manu had been automatic all night. He was 7 for 7 at the stripe already, with 21 points, second most on the Spurs.
Now, standing there once more in front of a roaring Phoenix crowd, he stayed ice cold.
Swish.
Swish.
Both free throws.
97 to 91.
Ginobili's steady stroke blunted the impact of Chen's previous three point dagger. The noise inside US Airways Center dropped several levels at once.
Kenny Smith let out a low breath on the broadcast.
"Those are grown man free throws," he said. "San Antonio keeps extending it back to 6. If they keep knocking these down, Phoenix is running out of ways to come back. Fouling does not bother the Spurs at all. They are conserving energy, controlling tempo. At this point, the Suns almost need a miracle."
Diaw took the ball on the baseline and triggered the inbound.
Nash came to receive and pushed hard across half court.
What the Spurs wanted now was simple. Run the clock.
Parker hounded Nash full court, body into him, hands busy, every step contested.
Nash tried to shake him with a crossover.
The combination of heavy legs and Parker's pressure proved costly.
As Nash shifted the ball from one hand to the other, Parker flicked out a finger and popped it loose.
Slap.
The ball skidded away toward the sideline.
"Dammit," Nash muttered under his breath, trying to push off after it. His body did not respond the way his mind wanted. All he could do was watch as the ball rolled further out of his reach.
Parker exploded forward.
In his head, there was only one thought left. End it. Make this steal and kill the game.
A lot of Spurs fans could not even watch. They covered their eyes early, already seeing the turnover and the dagger layup that would follow.
If San Antonio got this ball clean, it was over. Everyone knew it.
Then, just as Parker broke free of Nash and reached for the ball, a white jersey blurred into his path.
The Suns' number 0.
Chen Yan rose in front of him, snatching the ball out of the air with one massive hand. His palm swallowed it up, and he spun his body at the same time, using his shoulder and back to shield Parker away.
Parker, unable to stop his momentum, crashed straight into him.
Chen felt him coming and waited that extra split second.
"Dammit," this time it was Parker's turn to curse.
As their bodies collided, Chen let the contact knock him backward and turned the fall into motion. He faded away and launched the ball in one smooth move.
It was a wild, off balance, super deep three point attempt. Most people in the building assumed he was just using the contact to draw the foul.
On the TNT desk, even Barkley and Kenny started to react like it was just a whistle play.
"That is a smart play, drawing the three point foul," Kenny started, then stopped.
Because the ball looked different coming off Chen's hand.
The wrist snap felt pure. The rotation looked right.
Chen knew it, too. He watched the ball leave his fingers and locked in on the arc.
Let the bullet fly.
The arena held its breath.
Swish.
The net snapped clean.
97 to 94.
"Yeah yeah yeah!"
"It is good!"
"What a ridiculous shot!"
The entire arena exploded. Fans jumped to their feet, both arms raised, letting out everything they had been holding in.
That three was not just good, it came with a whistle. Chen had also pulled a foul out of Parker.
A potential four point play.
Even Barkley and Kenny were stunned into silence for a moment. They stayed that way until Chen walked to the free throw line.
"Top difficulty," Barkley finally said, still shaking his head.
Kenny exhaled. "That is an impossible shot, Chuck. And he hit it when they had to have it. You do something like that and it lifts your entire team. That is a franchise shot right there."
Barkley laughed. "On that one, Chen was only responsible for throwing it up. God was the one who dropped it in."
There was no way to overpraise a shot like that. It deserved every word.
Now, Chen stood alone at the free throw line.
Normally, this is where the crowd would chant for him, scream his name, or rain down MVP chants. Not this time.
This time the building went dead quiet.
Nobody wanted to risk rattling him.
Every eye in the arena fixed on him as he bounced the ball, set his feet, and released.
Swish.
Nothing but net.
97 to 95.
Popovich did not hesitate.
"Timeout," he barked, face stern.
In the last minute of a tight playoff game, timeouts became weapons. Sometimes you burned one every trip just to control every single possession.
As the players walked toward their benches, the broadcast camera tracked across their faces.
Duncan looked unsettled, his eyes a little darker than usual.
Nash looked completely spent, drenched in sweat, chest heaving.
Chen Yan stared straight into the lens and pointed directly at the camera.
Spurs fans watching on TV felt a chill run down their backs.
This scene, this exact combination of a shaken Duncan, an exhausted teammate, and a star pointing at the camera in crunch time…
They had seen something like this before.
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