Chapter 329: The King of Core, In Exceptional Form
"Wow, perfect rhythm," Kenny Smith said on the TNT call. "That fast break counter is one of Chen Yan's cleanest weapons."
Charles Barkley laughed. "Once the Lakers cough it up and he's got daylight, that's basically a donation. You might as well hand him the points with a bow."
Kenny nodded. "From the moment the ball got loose, it was already headed to the rim."
Just like they said, giving Chen Yan a runway was the same as gifting him a bucket.
…
Los Angeles Lakers possession.
Kobe brought it up himself.
Hudson's turnover on the last play still sat in Kobe's chest like a bad meal. Deep down, he did not trust Hudson the way he trusted Fisher. If Fisher had not been hunted so hard by Chen Yan these last few games, he would have been starting. No question.
Kobe crossed half court and lofted the ball to Garnett.
Garnett caught at the high post, leaned back into Diop, felt the weight shift, then spun with zero hesitation. His signature fadeaway rose smooth and high.
Swish.
4 to 9.
Kenny whistled. "Kobe and Garnett look sharp early."
Barkley grunted. "That's more than sharp, that's locked in."
Phoenix answered.
Nash tried to speed it up, but the Lakers got back fast. The possession still settled into the half court. This was the playoffs, not a regular season track meet. Nobody let the Suns run free for long.
Nash called Stoudemire up at the top.
Pick and roll, the most efficient bread and butter in the half court.
Off the screen, Nash turned the corner, then from the left elbow flicked a pass to Chen Yan in the corner. Chen Yan could not realistically handle the ball every trip or sprint through endless off ball routes without burning out. Sometimes you just had to catch, read, and punish.
He caught in the corner and lifted like he was shooting.
Posey reached.
Chen Yan exploded.
That first step was already elite, and with the Lightning First Step skill pushing it even further, it honestly looked like the fastest burst in the league right now. He blew by Posey so clean it felt unfair, like the defender had hit a patch of ice.
Baseline, left hand on the dribble.
Garnett rotated to cut off the gap. Kwame slid over from the other side, ready to meet him in the air.
2 bigs waiting.
Chen Yan did not blink.
He gathered, planted, and took off.
Garnett and Kwame rose together, arms up, trying to trap him in the sky.
Then Chen Yan curled his body, slipped between them, and glided to the far side of the rim.
He let out a shout and hung a reverse off the glass.
Swish.
6 to 9.
Even Garnett had to respect it. Before the jump, it looked like Chen Yan was coming in like a helicopter. Mid air, he turned into a glider.
Barkley slapped the desk. "That's a whole lot of core. That's circus strength."
Kenny grinned. "Reverse along the baseline, through 2 bigs. That's elite control."
On the sideline, D'Antoni rose and clapped. Chen Yan was attacking the rim with real intent tonight, and it was working.
Back the other way, Lakers possession.
Hudson crossed half court and handed it right back to Kobe.
Kobe caught at the top and settled into triple threat, eyes scanning. Most players spend the possession reading the defender in front of them, foot angles, pressure, which side they are giving up, where the reach hand is.
Kobe was not most players.
For him, the defender in front was rarely the real question. Even a strong stopper like Raja Bell could not do it alone. When Kobe's time came, the defender could only hope help arrived on schedule.
So Kobe studied the other 4 defenders, their angles, their spacing, their habits, the weak link he already knew from scouting. He was not solving Bell. He was solving Phoenix.
Then he put the ball down and drove.
Not a blazing first step, just pure craft. Shoulder fake, between the legs, lean into Bell, slide toward the middle. Bell stayed attached, but the position was gone. Any extra force now risked the whistle, and with Kobe it could easily become a 2 plus 1.
Diop stepped up to help.
Kobe stayed calm and threaded the ball inside.
Garnett caught and rose immediately.
Stoudemire came crashing from the side, refusing to give up an easy dunk.
Beep.
Contact in the air. Whistle.
Garnett still tried to finish, tossing it toward the rim.
Clang.
It rolled around and spit out.
Garnett slapped the backboard in frustration. In his mind, it should have been a 2 plus 1.
Kobe jogged over and patted the back of Garnett's head. Calm down. Getting to the line was already a win, and drawing a foul on Stoudemire mattered.
Garnett exhaled and stepped to the stripe.
Swish.
Swish.
6 to 11.
Phoenix possession.
Nash and Stoudemire went back to the pick and roll.
This time Chen Yan did not park in the corner. He sliced along the baseline, cutting hard into space.
Phil Jackson's face tightened on the sideline. Posey was late again. Chen Yan's pace tonight was violent, and Posey looked like he was chasing shadows.
Nash saw it instantly and bounced it in.
Garnett turned to help.
Chen Yan took 1 step, then lifted the ball high and floated a lob toward the far side of the rim.
For a split second it looked too high.
Then Stoudemire arrived like a missile, caught it in mid air, and hammered it down.
Alley oop.
8 to 11.
Chen Yan slapped hands with Nash and Stoudemire on the retreat. That was Suns basketball, the trio in sync, the defense forced to choose, and punished either way.
The Lakers finally stumbled.
Posey got a kickout from Garnett and launched a 3.
Miss.
Phoenix ran.
Nash pushed and fired a pass ahead to Chen Yan streaking up the floor.
The Lakers' defense clearly tightened after getting hit repeatedly. That was exactly what Chen Yan wanted. Tighten the paint, rush the closeouts, and the shot gets cleaner.
A step beyond the arc, Chen Yan squared up and let it fly.
The Suns bench rose with fingers in the air. They knew this look.
The deep 3 arrived right on time.
The ball came in a touch strong, kissed the front rim, then dropped through.
Clang, then net.
11 all.
Chen Yan turned toward the bench, slapping hands down the line, feeding off the energy.
Kenny nodded. "He's got the full menu tonight. Rim pressure, playmaking, then he pulls up from the parking lot."
Barkley chuckled. "That's when coaches start sweating through suits."
Phil Jackson called timeout immediately.
The score was tied, but the Zen Master's eyes said it all. Chen Yan's rhythm looked a lot like Game 2, the kind of rhythm that could steal a road win all by itself.
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