"The Splash Brothers just don't have their touch today," O'Neal said from the broadcast booth. "Maybe it's the Kings' defensive strategy. Right now, the Warriors' biggest offensive threat is the Curry–Klay combo, but today the Kings' defense is putting a lot of trust in their perimeter guys."
"As soon as the Warriors run a pick-and-roll, the Kings switch everything—no hesitation. They're not even asking for much, just enough to contest the shot. And it's making the Splash Brothers really uncomfortable."
Courtside, beer in hand, Chen Yilun glanced at Mike Malone, who was busy drawing up plays, and had to admit—Malone knew what he was doing.
The "switch-everything" scheme, which D'Antoni was supposed to unveil two years later to counter the Warriors, had somehow been stumbled upon by Malone ahead of schedule.
Halfway through the second quarter, both teams sent in their bench units.
"Mike!" Chen Yilun strolled over, beer sloshing slightly. "Let LaVine and Jokić try that tactic."
Malone's eyes lit up. He nodded, then sketched a new play on the board.
"Now entering the game—this year's rookies, Zach LaVine and Nikola Jokić!" The PA announcer's call drew an immediate roar from the crowd. Fans love rookies—symbols of limitless potential. Every team hopes their rookie is the winning lottery ticket.
LaVine dribbled to the top of the arc, facing Livingston, half a head taller. One quick look, and Jokić stepped up to set the screen.
"This year's Kings love to start with a high pick at the top, and I've got to say—it's working," Kenny said, impressed.
LaVine used the screen to drive inside, drawing Bogut from the paint and Iguodala nearby. Seeing the defense collapse, he immediately kicked the ball out.
It landed cleanly in Jokić's hands beyond the arc. Bogut's eyes went wide—when had he gotten there? Instead of rolling after the screen, Jokić had popped out to the perimeter.
Jokić adjusted, rose, and buried a three.
That shot wiped the smile off Kerr's face. The Warriors had hoped to use their bench to chip away at the deficit during rotations, but the Kings had hit them first.
Next possession, the Warriors rushed. Iguodala drove hard but missed under Mozgov's towering defense.
Mozgov grabbed the rebound and fired ahead. Jokić caught it near midcourt, saw David Lee sprinting back, took a beat, and floated the pass forward.
Lee felt a rush of wind overhead, then a purple blur streaked past. LaVine caught Jokić's pass, two strides inside the free-throw line, and exploded upward—hammering the ball through the rim.
"Oh my god! That kid is flying!"
O'Neal and Kenny Smith gaped. "That hang time is insane! For a moment, I thought time stopped. The Kings really struck gold this year! Maybe with LaVine, they can finally shed the 'rookie graveyard' label."
The arena erupted. The roar was deafening.
On the court, Iguodala and Livingston exchanged a glance. The two veterans were clearly rattled.
"Slow it down. These kids'll run us into the ground," Livingston muttered, shaking his head.
The Warriors' pace eased. Livingston went at LaVine in isolation, using his size and experience to score repeatedly.
But on the sideline, Malone just smiled. He made no substitutions. The Warriors were playing right into Malone's trap.
The Kings weren't idle either. LaVine and Jokić kept running a two-man game on offense—both able to attack the rim and shoot, with high basketball IQ, wearing down the Warriors' defense. Meanwhile, the other perimeter shooters kept knocking down threes.
By halftime, the Warriors hadn't closed the gap. In fact, the Kings led 56–42, up by 14.
...
In the locker room, Malone was grinning ear to ear. This was the most comfortable game he'd coached. He glanced at Chen Yilun, quietly scrolling on his phone in the corner, and felt even better.
"In the second half, Rudy Gay goes back in, LaVine and Jokić stay out there. Cousins—this is a tough one. I need you fresh for the closing stretch."
Cousins was about to protest, but a well-timed compliment from Malone had him sitting back down, smiling.
"CJ, what do you think of the team right now?" Chen Yilun asked quietly, leaning toward the player beside him.
Though still relatively new, CJ had a nice locker spot in the back. Hearing the team manager address him, he immediately grew wary.
Managers didn't just chat—unless they were about to ship you out. He thought he'd been playing well… was Mr. Chen trying to trade him?
"I mean…" Chen Yilun caught the guarded look and quickly clarified. "Don't worry, I'm just curious—when your rookie deal's up the year after next, would you want to stay with the Kings?"
CJ's expression brightened instantly. The league was a business, and job security mattered most—especially for a second-year rookie who could be cut any time.
"I like the atmosphere here," CJ said after a moment. "With the Kings, I've got a role I never had in Portland. The coach and manager care about me. I'm grateful for that, and I'd like to stay if I can."
Hooked. Chen Yilun smiled inwardly. "Of course. If you want to stay, you're always welcome. Honestly, if I had the right to extend you now, I'd lock you in long-term."
He leaned a bit closer. "The league wouldn't allow it officially, but I can give you a verbal promise—when your rookie deal ends, I'll offer at least a three-year contract. As long as you show competitiveness and loyalty."
Three years—that was serious money. Based on his current play, CJ figured he could easily land a 3-year, $33 million deal next year. With the cap still pre–TV deal, that was a strong offer.
He filed away Chen Yilun's words and nodded firmly. "I understand, Mr. Chen. I'll work hard to prove my worth."
"I'll have the contract ready when the time comes," Chen Yilun said, patting his shoulder before heading out. He was building his own allies in the team, laying groundwork for future moves. Those growth badges in his system weren't going to sit unused forever.
...
After halftime, Kerr noticed LaVine and Jokić were still on the floor and smirked. "Malone's too cocky—keeping two rookies out there now?"
He turned to his stars. "Stephen, Klay—get out there and close the gap."
Curry and Thompson sprang up.
"Oh? Curry and Thompson are in. Looks like they're going for a run," O'Neal observed. On one side, the Warriors had nearly all their starters; on the other, the Kings still had plenty of bench players.
"What's Malone thinking, not bringing Cousins back?"
On the sideline, Malone met Chen Yilun's gaze. They exchanged a look. "Run Play Three!"
LaVine got the message. Crossing half court, he handed the ball to Rudy Gay at the top. Gay sized up Draymond Green, crossed over twice, looking to penetrate—but Green's defense was airtight. No luck.
With Green glued to him, Gay gave a wry smile and fed Jokić, who had sealed position inside.
Jokić backed Bogut down twice but couldn't create space. With the clock winding down, he spun into a shot—then sold the pump-fake, flicking a pass past Bogut.
LaVine, having shaken off Curry, cut hard to the rim and rose for the dunk off a standing jump.
Curry, trailing behind, could only watch. For a small guard, his athleticism was solid—but against a freak like LaVine, he was powerless.
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