TL: 100PS
Chapter 332: A Man's Game, No Cowards in This Era
Play resumed, and neither Chen Yan nor Kobe said a word. They changed into fresh gear and went right back to work.
That ugly scramble, the ripped fabric, the elbows, the rolling on the floor, it was a perfect snapshot of the entire first half. Both teams traded punches in every sense of the word.
At halftime, the score was 54 to 56, away team first, home team second. The Lakers, on their own floor, led by 2.
Kobe had a game high 23 points at the break, plus 3 rebounds, 3 assists, and 5 turnovers.
Chen Yan was right there with him. He had 22 points, and he was dragging the Suns forward with more than just scoring. He added 5 assists in the half, along with 3 rebounds, 2 steals, and 4 turnovers.
Both stars were coughing the ball up, and it came straight from how personal this matchup had become. Every handle was pressured. Every catch was fought for. Every inch was contested.
In the Suns locker room, Chen Yan chugged water like it was the last bottle on Earth.
This was the most exhausting half he had played all season.
He had to stay efficient, create for others, and survive Kobe's constant contact, all at the same time. His legs felt like they were filled with sand.
Kobe was not doing much better.
…
The second half started fast.
Both teams stayed with their starters, and Phoenix had the first possession.
After a few quick swings, Diaw found a mid range look.
Clang.
It rattled out.
Garnett secured the rebound, calmed the tempo, and fed Kobe.
Kobe walked it up, then turned his body to shield the ball beyond the 3 point line while Raja Bell leaned into him.
Bang.
Bang.
Kobe hunted contact on purpose.
After a couple heavy collisions, he planted his left foot, turned toward the middle, and launched a massive fadeaway.
Bell, already knocked off his lift from the bumps, could only contest with a token reach.
Swish.
Pure.
54 to 58.
"Push it," D'Antoni barked from the sideline. "Pick up the pace!"
But the Lakers were ready for it. Their transition defense snapped back immediately.
Nash sprinted the ball over half court, saw no clean lane, and had to slow into the half court.
Stoudemire came up for a high screen. Nash drove toward the paint, but the roll angle was awkward, Posey was tangled with Chen Yan, and there was no easy kickout.
So Nash decided to finish it himself.
His signature step layup.
As he released, Kobe flew back into the play and swatted the ball into the backboard.
The block was violent, and the contact sent Nash sprawling, but the whistle stayed silent. Home court was home court.
While Nash stayed down, arms out, the Lakers were already running.
The rebound bounced loose and Garnett grabbed it clean. He fired a long outlet to Posey, who did not force a shot. He turned and dropped it to Kobe cutting hard behind him.
Kobe caught and detonated.
Boom.
A tomahawk dunk that set Staples Center on fire.
The building screamed his name.
D'Antoni shook his head. Phoenix could not get into their run and gun rhythm, and they were the ones getting punished in transition.
…
Then came the moment that made everyone's stomach tighten.
Phoenix came up empty again. Kobe pulled down the defensive rebound and pushed.
At the top, he dribbled into his rhythm and started his drive.
Chen Yan left Posey and slid over to help. Kobe in rhythm demanded a second defender, that was the bare minimum respect.
Kobe read it instantly. The moment Chen Yan stepped up, Kobe changed direction and attacked the baseline.
Chen Yan stayed with him. Quick feet, quick hips, no hesitation.
Kobe drove straight through the contact.
Both rose.
Kobe released, and Chen Yan reached to contest.
Slap.
He was half a beat late. He did not touch the ball.
He hit Kobe's finger.
The whistles came fast.
A shooting foul, 2 free throws coming.
But Kobe did not go to the line.
He stayed right there, clutching his right hand, face tight with pain.
The whole arena went tense because everyone knew that finger had been a problem for a long time.
Phil Jackson looked even worse. No one understood Kobe's value to this roster more than the man who built his entire system around a star who could punish you alone.
The medical staff rushed out.
"Kobe, how does it feel? Here? Here? Can you grip? Can you apply force?"
Kobe gritted his teeth. "I'm fine. I'm staying."
The team doctor checked again, then finally gave a thumbs up toward the bench.
Only then did Phil Jackson breathe.
After a short pause, Kobe walked to the free throw line. Chen Yan stepped closer, voice low.
"Hey, Kobe, you good?"
On the court they were enemies, but Chen Yan was not trying to hurt anybody. He loved the competition. He did not love cheap injuries.
Kobe looked at him, eyes sharp, almost pleased.
"I like it," he said. "I like this kind of fight."
Then Kobe patted Chen Yan on the backside, and Chen Yan returned the same quick tap, like two boxers touching gloves after a hard round.
The broadcast zoomed in.
Marv Albert's voice cut in, curious. "What do you think those 2 are saying down there?"
Doug Collins answered with a straight face. "Old man says, next time you go up, I'm putting you on the floor. Kid says, I'm not letting you walk out of this building."
Marv paused. "Since when can you read lips?"
Doug cracked a grin. "I can't. I made it up."
Marv had nothing left to say.
Staples applauded Kobe for staying in, and the chants started rolling.
"MVP! MVP!"
Kobe's greatest weapon was not just skill, not just shot making, and definitely not the elbows.
It was will.
Swish.
Swish.
Both free throws.
54 to 62.
The pain did not slow him down. If anything, it lit him up even more.
Behind Kobe's surge, the Lakers ripped off another 8 to 2 run and suddenly the gap was over 14.
D'Antoni called timeout immediately.
For Phoenix, that margin was dangerous. The crowd got louder and louder, smelling blood, dreaming about putting this one away before the 4th quarter even arrived.
…
After the timeout, the Suns answered with violence.
First possession out, Chen Yan reminded everyone he was still breathing.
Nash darted through the lane, quick and slippery, drawing bodies like a magnet. Then, without warning, he lofted the ball into the air.
Chen Yan shook free from Posey and sliced into the restricted area like a ghost.
The Lakers barely turned their heads before Chen Yan rose straight up from a standstill, caught it in midair, and bent his body like a drawn bow.
Showtime.
Boom.
A brutal dunk that shook the rim and yanked Phoenix's heartbeat back to life.
The Suns bench exploded to its feet.
That is what a run stopper looks like.
Sometimes your spirit does not come back from a speech. It comes back from a dunk that feels like an argument.
Phoenix's energy spiked immediately. On the next Lakers possession they pressured so hard they nearly forced a 24 second violation.
With time dying, Kobe took a tough fadeaway off a return pass from Posey.
Clang.
A hard miss.
Diaw secured the rebound and hit Nash.
Nash took 1 step, saw Chen Yan already sprinting, and launched a long pass like a cannonball.
That is who they were together. Nash was the engine, Chen Yan was the rocket. Put them in the open floor and the car stopped feeling like a car.
Chen Yan caught it clean, never slowed, and took long strides into the restricted area.
Posey jumped to contest in front. Kobe chased to contest from behind.
Defender ahead, hunter behind.
Chen Yan planted and exploded.
In midair, his body twisted with ridiculous flexibility, and he released an extreme finish squeezed between Kobe and Posey.
The shot kissed the glass and dropped.
And one.
Chen Yan came down off balance and spilled into the photographers along the baseline.
His lip smashed into a DSLR and split open instantly.
Blood.
A lot of it.
His teeth were fine, thankfully, but by rule, if you are bleeding, you have to come out until it is cleaned.
D'Antoni waved for Azubuike, ready to sub him.
Then Chen Yan did something that stunned everyone.
He swallowed the blood in his mouth, raised his hand toward the official, and signaled he could keep playing.
This was the moment Phoenix needed to climb back, and he refused to break their rhythm for a small cut.
It echoed what Kobe had done minutes earlier with that finger.
Two stars, both battered, both refusing to sit.
On this night, Kobe and Chen Yan proved the same point with different wounds.
Basketball is a man's game, and in this era, nobody plays the hero by being soft.
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