Chapter 357: One on One with LeBron, Game 2 Goes to Phoenix
Swish.
Chen Yan knocked down the free throw and the building roared again. Cleveland made a quick adjustment, pulling Shaquille O'Neal and bringing in Zydrunas Ilgauskas.
It was not complicated. Shaq's free throws had turned him into a pressure point, and Phoenix kept squeezing. Ilgauskas, with his midrange touch, at least gave LeBron more air to breathe. More space to drive, more room to see.
Big Z made his presence felt immediately.
LeBron attacked the lane, drew help, then kicked it out with perfect timing. Ilgauskas caught, rose from the short corner, and drilled it.
Swish.
Phoenix inbounded fast, as always. Nash crossed half court and fed Chen Yan without waiting for the defense to settle.
Stoudemire sprinted up to set the screen. Chen Yan used it, changed direction, and blew past Larry Hughes like he had somewhere urgent to be.
He was ready to strike while Cleveland was still rotating.
Then LeBron appeared.
At the top, James slid over and cut off the lane. Chen Yan could not build real speed, so he calmly pulled the ball back to the arc and reset.
A step beyond the 3 point line, Chen Yan lifted both index fingers.
Clear out.
Isolation.
The crowd got louder instantly. This was what they paid for, stars meeting at the top, no excuses, no hiding.
Thump. Thump.
Chen Yan dribbled with tempo, then snapped into a wide crossover to his left. LeBron shifted with him, hips turning, weight moving.
Chen Yan followed with a smooth scissor step and a quick change of direction. He sold left with his shoulders, straightened, and burst forward.
LeBron recovered fast, explosive as ever, closing the gap in a blink.
Chen Yan did not need to fully lose him. Half a step was enough.
He drove hard, extended, and finished with a left handed layup in stride.
LeBron stayed grounded. His angle was late, any contact would be a whistle. Big Z rotated from the paint, but he was half a beat slow.
The ball kissed the glass and fell.
53 to 67.
Cleveland tried to push right back.
LeBron received the outlet and accelerated past half court, but Phoenix sprinted back and clogged the runway. No easy rim. No quick strike.
So James pulled it out beyond the arc and organized.
And the noise rose again, because Chen Yan was right in front of him now.
LeBron clenched his fist, blew into it, then started rocking the ball between his legs, rhythm dribbles in place. Cleveland's bench stood up. Everyone could read the body language.
They wanted a response.
After 7 seconds of dribbling in place, LeBron waved his right hand.
Varejão came up to set the screen.
A screen, after all that. Classic LeBron, built on force and angles, not pure isolation flair.
He used the pick, crossed in front, and powered into the lane. Stoudemire met him, but LeBron was already gliding.
Layup. Good.
55 to 67.
Phoenix came back and Chen Yan kept attacking.
Cleveland refused to send help. Mike Brown's logic stayed the same, lock down the role players, live with Chen Yan scoring. If the others stayed quiet, Cleveland still had a path.
Larry Hughes swiped the moment Chen Yan put the ball down. He trusted his hands. He had led the league in steals once, made All Defense, and he still played like a man hunting a highlight.
But gamble defense comes with a receipt.
Chen Yan slipped the swipe with a behind the back dribble, stepped through, and turned the corner. Hughes got beat again, then chased tight from behind.
Big Z stepped up to help.
Chen Yan hopped sideways through the gap between them, gathered, and finished a reverse layup clean off the glass.
55 to 69.
Graceful. Efficient. Cruel.
From the booth, Mike Breen's voice rose with the building.
"Chen Yan again, dancing through traffic."
Mark Jackson sounded almost offended.
"That's too easy. That's free money."
Cleveland answered by running offense through LeBron again. Another screen, another probe. Raja Bell went over and dared him to shoot.
LeBron hesitated. Everyone in the league knew the book on early career LeBron. Live with jumpers, crowd the paint.
He swung it to Hughes instead.
Hughes shot a midrange pullup and hit.
57 to 69.
Phoenix brought it back and LeBron made a decision.
He signaled for the switch.
He wanted Chen Yan himself.
Hughes had been getting killed too often, and Chen Yan's efficiency was starting to feel personal.
Nash crossed half court, surveying. After a few passes, Diaw lofted the ball to Chen Yan near the elbow.
Chen Yan caught and held it high with his right hand, away from his body, reading James's stance and his teammates clearing space.
LeBron dropped into a crouch and put a hand on Chen Yan's waist, strong base, disciplined positioning.
The crowd screamed everything at once.
"Go get him."
"Kill him."
"Chen, finish him."
Chen Yan dribbled, crossed between his legs, and drove right.
LeBron slid with him, chest square, denying the lane.
Chen Yan shifted into a series of behind the back dribbles. The ball swung wide, tempting a reach. For a split second LeBron wanted the steal, the gamble.
He resisted.
He had just watched what happened to Hughes when he gambled.
Bang. Bang.
Chen Yan snapped into an exaggerated crossover, his signature, center of gravity practically scraping the floor. LeBron stayed balanced, but the shake created just enough separation.
Chen Yan stepped back sideways, opened the window, and rose immediately.
Swish.
LeBron's contest came late. The shot was already in Chen Yan's rhythm, and rhythm beats length.
On the next Cleveland possession, Chen Yan did something even louder.
He backed up 2 steps, from the 3 point line toward the free throw line, leaving LeBron wide open by about 2 meters.
It was disrespectful, and it was calculated.
LeBron's regular season 3 point percentage was 31.1%. In the playoffs it had dropped to 25.7%. He took 5.4 threes a game and made 1.4. Phoenix was happy with that math.
LeBron hesitated, then shot anyway. If you are left that open and you refuse, the embarrassment gets worse.
The shot came out flat.
Clang.
An air ball.
The arena exploded in boos and laughter.
"Keep shooting, LeBron, we need you!"
"See the difference now?"
"Thank you for the donation!"
LeBron jogged back with his head down, jaw tight.
There are few feelings worse for a perimeter star than being ignored. And there is exactly 1 feeling worse than that, being ignored and still missing.
It was also a familiar scar. The year before, San Antonio had done the same thing to him on the Finals stage and he had shot 20% from deep. He had worked on it, but shooting does not become elite on a schedule.
Chen Yan knew exactly what he was doing.
He was not just trying to win the game. He was trying to crack LeBron's confidence.
LeBron stopped forcing things for a stretch after that, and Cleveland survived because their supporting pieces were still making enough shots in the quarter.
Late in the third, the pace finally slowed. For the last 1 minute and 30 seconds, neither team scored.
Phoenix entered the fourth up 87 to 74.
Chen Yan's perfect streak had ended, but the efficiency stayed obscene. He was 16 for 20 from the field with 43 points.
In the booth, Breen sounded almost stunned.
"This is the NBA Finals, and Chen Yan is shooting like it's a private workout."
Van Gundy could not hide his disbelief.
"And Cleveland is still refusing to double. At some point you stop being stubborn and you start being reckless."
Mark Jackson shook his head.
"He's too comfortable. You let a scorer get comfortable, you're basically handing him the keys."
The fourth quarter began, and Cleveland stayed with single coverage.
Everyone understood then, they were going to ride the strategy all the way to the end.
Mike Brown kept preaching the same message, ignore the stats, chase the win. A 13 point deficit was not small, but it was not hopeless either. And Phoenix could not coast.
The Finals format was 2 3 2. Phoenix needed to take a 2 to 0 lead before flying to Cleveland. A home loss would turn the series into a real problem fast.
Cleveland came out aggressive.
They scored efficiently early in the fourth, but Phoenix kept answering. With 6 minutes left, the lead was still 12.
That was when Cleveland's energy started to fade. Scoring was not enough. They needed stops, and stops were not coming.
With 2 minutes and 30 seconds left, Cleveland began gambling with 3s.
They had to. For them, refusing to shoot was a slower way to lose.
LeBron drove, drew 3 defenders, and kicked to Gibson. The second year guard fired immediately.
Good.
Single digits.
For a moment, Cleveland saw light.
On the next possession, Nash poured cold water on it with a running floater off a screen. The lead went back to double digits like a door slamming shut.
LeBron came down and took a quick 3 at the top.
Swish.
Chen Yan did not flinch. LeBron was not the kind of shooter who usually hit them in bunches, and quick 3s only sped the game up, which helped Phoenix protect control.
Nash crossed half court and gave it to Chen Yan. Chen Yan held it, read the floor, and let the clock breathe.
He crossed once, then swung it back to Nash.
Stoudemire screened.
Nash turned the corner and hit Stoudemire on the roll with a clean bounce pass. Amar'e finished off the glass.
Classic. Simple. Deadly.
Cleveland pushed again. LeBron launched another quick 3.
Clang.
Varejão fought for the rebound and secured it. The moment he turned, he telegraphed the pass back to LeBron.
Chen Yan saw it like it was printed on a billboard.
He jumped the lane, stole it clean, and advanced without hesitation.
Then he pulled up from deep in transition.
Swish.
No mercy.
That shot stretched the lead and crushed what little air Cleveland had left.
A few more empty possessions followed for the Cavaliers, and the game's last suspense bled out onto the hardwood.
Final.
111 to 95.
Phoenix took Game 2, weathered the push, and walked out of the arena with a 2 to 0 lead.
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