"I'm not afraid of you playing well—I'm afraid of you not playing at all!"
In this matchup, what Malone feared least was Curry isolating with the ball.
With Josh Richardson and Booker hounding him on the perimeter, even if Curry managed to knock down shots, it would come at a steep physical cost.
Malone's real trump card was increasing Curry's time on the ball while using the Kings' airtight perimeter defense to completely sever the connection between Curry and Thompson.
After all, if Thompson couldn't operate in tandem with Curry, it was no different from cutting off one of his own arms.
"So it's really the same old tricks—over and over, just these same few sets."
Chen Yilun watched the transitions on both ends of the floor. After only a short while, his interest began to fade.
After all, the Kings' game plan against the Warriors this time wasn't much different from last season—just a slight shift in emphasis.
Last year, with Gasol in the lineup, Jokić's movement range increased noticeably compared to the year before. Butler's responsibilities as the Kings' defensive spearhead also grew significantly.
But at the end of the day, it was still the same old formula.
Choke off Curry's passing lanes, isolate him from his teammates, then pick them apart one by one.
Before long, though, Malone sensed something wasn't quite right.
"Curry's been hiding something during the regular season!"
Curry's bread and butter had always been his three-point shooting and aggressive drives to the rim. But over this stretch, he'd been repeatedly pulling up from mid-range. Even when he got into the paint, instead of his usual floaters, he was finishing with far more decisive layups.
"Tch…"
Watching Curry play, Chen Yilun's brow slowly furrowed.
It seemed that without Durant, Curry had effectively gone through a reforge of his own game.
In the original timeline, Durant's arrival had significantly reduced Curry's scoring burden, and for several years Curry had more or less plateaued.
It wasn't until after Durant left that Curry began expanding his offensive arsenal again—adding muscle and improving his ability to absorb contact.
"By the looks of it, Curry's evolving ahead of schedule… and the Warriors are basically using George the way they used Wiggins."
Chen Yilun muttered to himself as he watched.
"Huh? What Wiggins?"
Peja, seated beside him, paused in confusion and asked.
"Nothing."
Realizing he'd misspoken, Chen Yilun quickly changed the subject.
"I mean, in the Warriors' current system, George doesn't really look like an All-Star. He's more of a pure 3-and-D guy now."
"Well, obviously."
Peja scoffed. "That old Kerr has no idea how to use people. Other than Curry, Thompson, and Green, anyone else who comes in just gets treated like a role-player."
As he spoke, Peja chuckled.
"Honestly, with the way Golden State's treating George, there's no way he stays after this season. Free agency's going to be a bloodbath."
This was George's contract year. Once the season ended, he'd become an unrestricted free agent.
As far back as his Pacers days, George had made it clear—Los Angeles was the only destination he had his eye on.
And with the Warriors' recent struggles, even a team that once felt unshakable was starting to show signs of internal unease.
A sense of pessimism had begun to spread through Golden State.
That's why this season was effectively their last stand. If they still couldn't get past the Kings, they might as well kiss their championship window goodbye.
Knowing this, Curry had been giving everything he had. Mid-range pull-ups, drives, threes—
anything he could do, he took it upon himself, putting the team on his back.
"Harder than I expected."
Booker bent over with his hands on his knees, beads of sweat dripping from his face onto the hardwood.
"Not too bad, right?"
Durant wandered over and asked quietly.
In this game, Booker was tasked with guarding Curry. As a young player, his playoff experience was limited, and he still hadn't mastered how to pace himself. With Curry deliberately targeting him, Booker's stamina was draining fast.
"I'm fine, really!"
Booker straightened up and wiped the sweat from his face.
"I can keep this up all day!"
"This is what playoff intensity looks like."
Butler suddenly popped up with a grin. "Our little Booker's had it too smooth so far—never taken a real spill."
"Coach's message! Shrink the floor and grind it out inside. Don't worry about stamina—we'll beat them with rotations!"
Butler's words lit a fire under the entire team.
"Perfect! Playing fast all the time gets boring anyway. Time to go at them head-on!"
Booker was the first to respond.
"Then let's play!"
After the timeout, the Kings immediately collapsed their defensive coverage. Nearly every possession began with an entry into the paint. Whether it ended with a finish inside or a kick-out three depended on how the defense reacted.
The results came quickly.
Relentless, high-intensity physical battles in the paint rapidly drained the Warriors' energy—especially Green, who was anchoring the interior and was already gasping for air before half the quarter had passed.
"Savage…"
Watching from the sideline, Kerr grew more anxious by the second.
At its core, the Kings' strategy was essentially a simplified version of the Pistons' Five defense.
On the perimeter, Durant and Butler constantly forced Warriors players to cover more ground. On offense, Jokić went head-to-head with Green in brutal interior battles.
Under those conditions, both teams soon turned to their bench units.
Compared to the Kings' stacked reserves, the Warriors' bench looked painfully thin. The only player who could still hold his own was Livingston, whose form had already declined.
After Looney was snatched by the Spurs in the draft and Harrell—whom they had selected—was sent to the Pacers in the George trade, the Warriors' interior rotation was left almost entirely to the struggling Whiteside.
"Greg, when you go in, don't hesitate—go straight at Whiteside."
On the sideline, Malone calmly laid out instructions for Oden. "Don't let his numbers scare you. I've broken him down before—most of his stats are empty. His actual defense is nothing special. Just pound him inside and force Kerr to put Draymond Green back in."
Malone added with a cold smile, "Our only job right now is to force Kerr to change his rotations and make him juggle too many problems at once."
Another reason Malone dared to unleash Oden at this point was the scoreboard in the second quarter: 44–36.
The Kings were up by eight. And the more a deficit looks like it could be erased at any moment, the more it tests a head coach's composure.
"I get it, Coach."
Oden replied in a low, rumbling voice. "Fishing enforcement, right? I know the drill."
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser