📅 November 15, 2024 – Amway Center, Orlando, FL🆚 Orlando Magic vs. Philadelphia 76ers
The ball tipped off under bright lights and restless fans, but it took less than three minutes for the optimism to deflate.
Tyrese Maxey danced into a pull-up three before Franz could recover. Bang.
De'Anthony Melton followed with a corner triple off a broken switch. Bang.
Another possession — careless outlet by Wendell Carter Jr., stolen by Oubre Jr., leading to an and-one.
Mosley called timeout with the score at 17–6. He didn't yell. Didn't say a word. Just stared at his players like he didn't recognize them.
Zoran sat at the scorer's table, silently adjusting his wristbands. He hadn't been subbed in yet, but he'd seen enough.
The next play out of the timeout collapsed just like the ones before. A lazy off-ball screen, Paolo fading too early, and a botched handoff left Suggs stuck with a contested pull-up brick.
Then came the whistle.
Zoran checked in with 4:32 left in the first quarter. Orlando was down eleven.
His first touch didn't result in a shot. He dribbled once, drew the trap, and dumped it off to Suggs slicing baseline. Layup.
Next possession, he faked a handoff, spun out, and hit Franz on a wraparound bounce pass that earned free throws.
They weren't glamorous plays — but the ball was finally moving.
On defense, he was louder than he'd ever been.
"Switch right!""Middle cut, Franz — stay high!""Backpedal, Wendell — no reach!"
It wasn't barking. It was precise. Cold. Rhythmic.
By the time the quarter ended, the score was 23–17. The Magic had stopped the bleeding.
The second quarter opened with the bench still a bit jittery, but Zoran kept anchoring the sets. One subtle seal screen here. One early callout there.
When Maxey tried to beat him off the dribble, Zoran didn't swipe — just shifted once and forced a kick-out. Next time down, he poked the ball loose from the post before scrambling for a deflection.
He wasn't dominating the game.
He was controlling the chaos.
From the sideline, Anthony Black muttered to one of the assistants, "He's directing traffic like a vet."
The assistant nodded without looking away. "He's not just reading the game. He's composing it."
By halftime, the scoreboard read:Philadelphia 52 – Orlando 46
It wasn't ideal. But it could've been far worse.
Zoran's stat line in 11 minutes:
6 points
3 assists
2 steals
1 turnover
Plus-minus: +7
He didn't speak to anyone walking toward the tunnel. But as he passed Suggs and Franz, he gave each a subtle nod.
Franz returned it. So did Suggs.
No chest bumps. No slaps. Just acknowledgement.
A local sideline reporter raised her voice as they passed:
"Coach! You think the rookie saved the half?"
The assistant coach didn't respond.
But Zoran slowed.
For half a second, he looked over his shoulder — not at the reporter, but at the glowing scoreboard above the tunnel.
Then he turned away, hands tucked into his waistband, and walked into the shadows of the hallway.
The second half was coming.
And he wasn't done yet.