The game swung from defense to offense. Curry brought the ball up, attacking with a series of crossovers that left rookie LaVine completely disoriented. That's the gap between a veteran and a rookie—LaVine, new to the league, just didn't have the reaction speed to handle that kind of move. In a heartbeat, Curry blew past him, cutting hard to the right.
Ben rushed in to help, but Curry whipped a no-look pass straight to Thompson on the perimeter. "Swish!" The ball dropped cleanly through the net. Klay, face blank, turned and jogged back on defense.
"Damn it! Don't fall for his fakes!" Mike Malone shouted from the sideline. LaVine flushed at the rebuke but quickly steadied himself and pushed forward on offense.
One thing was clear—Jokić was proving to be a revelation. Watching him work in the paint, Malone's satisfaction grew. The stocky big man could do it all: his footwork inside left the rugged Bogut looking lost, and he could even stretch the floor with a three.
Malone glanced over at Cousins, sitting on the bench staring into space, and a thought crossed his mind: Did Chen Yilun bring in Jokić to replace this hot-headed big man?
Maybe all of Popovich's guys were built like this. From what he'd seen tonight, this second-rounder Jokić was holding his own against lottery picks. So the later the draft pick, the better? Fine by him.
Across the court, Kerr's face darkened. The goal this season was the championship—so how was the first game against a so-called bottom-feeder turning into such a grind?
He called another timeout. The scoreboard read 88–80, Kings up eight. "We're here to win it all this season. But right now, the Kings look like they could be a playoff threat. Next possession—run that play."
Plans had gone out the window. Kerr hadn't expected the Kings, who rolled over last season, to make this kind of leap in one offseason. Rookie, you've got skills. But now it's time for the vet to show you what a real contender looks like.
Out of the timeout, Curry passed to Thompson and then cut hard. Malone's instincts fired—something was off. "Why is Curry moving without the ball while Thompson, a spot-up shooter, is handling it?"
Before he could react, Curry darted to the three-point line. Ben McLemore tried to chase, but Livingston and Iguodala slid in from both sides like closing doors.
Ben was trapped in the middle, helpless. Curry took Klay's pass, saw daylight, and pulled the trigger.
"Swish!" Another perfect shot.
"Hey! That's a moving screen! That's a violation!" Malone exploded at the refs.
The crew chief looked to the sideline official, who hesitated. Technically, it could be called a moving screen, but the shift was minimal once the screen was set. If they called that, they'd have to whistle nearly every screen in the game.
That would wreck the flow. Referees weren't just there to enforce rules—they managed pace and kept the game watchable. Sometimes what looked like a bad call wasn't corruption at all, but a choice to keep things competitive. The league didn't mind.
The sideline ref frowned and shook his head. Even as the home official, he wasn't making that call.
Meanwhile, Chen Yilun—leaning back in his seat, chatting up a stunning fan—saw the play and shot up like he'd been stung, startling her.
"elevator doors?" His eyes widened. That play wasn't supposed to debut until next year with the Death Lineup. Damn it—Kerr already had it in the bag!
"Timeout! Timeout!"
Malone, visibly rattled, called for one, drawing gasps from the crowd. The Kings had just forced the Warriors to burn a timeout, and now, one possession later, the tables had turned.
In the broadcast booth, the tension was palpable. After a pause, O'Neal said, "That play from the Warriors… scary stuff."
Kenny Smith shifted in his seat. "Yeah. That play sacrifices everyone else's offense just to give Curry the perfect look. If he or Thompson stay hot, they can shoot the Kings out of the game from deep."
Both were thinking the same thing: trouble for the Kings. The score was still 88–83, but Curry was red-hot, hitting six of eight from three. With that set in their arsenal, a lead change felt like only a few possessions away.
"Next play—lock down the perimeter! Cousins, get out there too. If we can't stop Curry, we'd better be scoring ourselves!"
Coming out of the timeout, Cousins checked in, bringing the crowd to its feet. He delivered immediately, bulldozing Bogut for two. But the Warriors came right back with the elevator doors, and Curry nailed another three. 90–86.
By the end of the third, the Kings' lead was down to 92–91. The cushion from the first half had evaporated.
"Is there really no way to shut that play down?"
Malone rubbed his forehead, mentally running through every defensive scheme he knew. Nothing worked.
"Mike," Chen Yilun's voice cut in. "They've got threes, but so do we. And we've got the inside edge. Play at our pace. Don't let them dictate it."
Malone straightened. "Alright—on offense, run Play One to free our shooters. CJ, Ben—if you see that play coming, collapse on it right away. Casspi, Gay—stick to Curry and Thompson. If they even think about passing, get in their face."
"Got it!" The players nodded grimly. The coach was going all in.
Chen Yilun watched them head out and sighed. Three-Point Boost Card—activate!
An invisible light shot from him, flowing into the five players. A progress bar appeared: Boost remaining: 19:59.
You've got the elevator doors? I've got the boost card. Sorry, Coach Kerr—time to flip on the cheat codes.
CJ brought the ball past half court, saw the setup, and lobbed to Cousins in the paint.
Matched against backup Speights, Cousins' size and power were overwhelming. He backed him down with ease.
He turned for a hook—but a huge hand flashed into the path. Smack! A clean block sent it out of bounds.
Bogut had rotated over and, catching Cousins off guard, delivered a volleyball-style swat.
"Damn it!" Cousins had waited for his moment, only to be stuffed immediately.
The Kings kept possession, and Cousins called for it again, but Bogut, ready this time, forced a miss. He grabbed the rebound and hurled it downcourt.
Two blue streaks shot toward the Kings' basket—Curry and Barnes.
Curry caught it and charged. Only Ben was back, planted under the hoop, eyes locked on him. But Curry zipped a bounce pass that grazed Ben's fingertips and landed in Barnes' hands.
Barnes went up strong, and Ben couldn't contest in time. The dunk slammed home.
Groans filled the arena. 92–93—the Kings trailed for the first time all night, and in the fourth quarter no less. Malone clenched his fists. Was all their effort about to slip away?
"No! Run Play One! And Cousins—stay put!" Malone barked.
Embarrassed from the earlier misses, Cousins set a firm screen on the perimeter.
CJ handled up top, noticing the Warriors focused on the cutters, barely watching him. An idea sparked.
Cousins stepped up for the screen, and Bogut didn't immediately follow—Cousins could shoot threes, but his percentage wasn't threatening.
CJ seized the moment, crossed over, and Curry, chasing, ran straight into Cousins.
Seeing the opening, CJ rose and fired. "Swish!" The ball dropped clean through the net.
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