"The rest of this game isn't for you to participate in!"
After saying that, Al Horford turned and headed back onto the court.
Jaylen looked at the backs of Horford, Hayward, and Irving as they walked side by side. His mouth suddenly fell open in a very middle-school sort of awe.
"So this is the world of the strong?"
But Horford wasn't posturing at all. This truly was the final moment.
Only those who had been through countless storms could endure an intensity like this.
Back to the game.
Irving controlled the ball on the perimeter. The other Cavaliers players knew they could no longer provide much positive impact on offense, so they locked onto their defensive assignments, prepared to use their own bodies to slow the Celtics' advance.
Hood's footwork on the perimeter was a little shaky, but he still fought to hold his defensive position without getting blown by.
Seeing no opening to drive, Irving didn't force it. Instead, he swung the ball inside to Al Horford.
Already well positioned in the paint, Horford caught the pass and rose without the slightest hesitation, hooking the ball over Kevin Love's defense and dropping it in.
76–84. The Celtics led by eight.
Possession shifted back to the Cavaliers. After crossing half court, LeBron James suddenly accelerated, looking to attack the lane.
Just as Hayward and Al Horford moved to trap him, James relied on his broad court vision and quickly kicked the ball out to JR Smith on the perimeter.
JR hadn't created any real separation, but the thing our streaky sharpshooter feared the least was shooting over a defender.
Facing the onrushing Irving, JR rose up without hesitation.
"Swish!"
That cold-blooded three reignited the Cavaliers' hope of a comeback.
The two teams plunged into a brutal, grinding battle.
"I really didn't expect Cleveland to be this resilient,"
Coach Malone couldn't help but sigh as he watched from in front of the TV.
Before the Eastern Conference games even began, Malone and Chen Yilun had already reached an agreement.
A shorthanded Cleveland had no chance against a rested, fully loaded Boston.
But today's game had far exceeded Malone's expectations.
"Great Tomjanovich once said,"
Chen Yilun said calmly from the side, "never underestimate the heart of a champion. Given the situation right now, both sides are playing with real fire. A close game is only natural."
"But this is just LeBron's dying counterattack."
As he spoke, Chen Yilun stood up, poured himself a glass of hard liquor, and continued.
"If the Celtics' head coach were incompetent, LeBron might still have a sliver of hope. Unfortunately for him, Coach Stevens isn't going to leave any openings."
"True."
Coach Malone nodded. "You have to admit, that old fox Danny Ainge really has a sharp eye. When he promoted that no-name NCAA coach to head coach, I thought he was just picking a random white glove."
"Who would've thought this latecomer would grow so fast? Now he's already wrestling with the league's old foxes."
"Today's game was a wake-up call for me,"
Chen Yilun said, steering the topic back to himself. "The future Celtics are going to be a rival we can't ignore on our path to a title. We can't drag things out with Golden State anymore. Unlock Durant's shot attempts."
"Unlock them in the Western Conference Finals?"
Malone frowned slightly. "Isn't that too early?"
Right now, the Kings' main tactics fell into two categories.
One was Jokić orchestrating from the perimeter, creating opportunities for others. The advantage of this approach was that it greatly reduced off-ball movement, conserving stamina while maintaining efficiency.
The other was Butler and Durant alternating ball-handling duties, attacking either the paint or the perimeter—what people commonly called the "two poisons."
But the Kings' most lethal weapon wasn't either of these.
It was funneling all shot attempts to Durant.
The 2017–18 version of Durant, when fully healthy, was the league's number one isolation scorer—bar none.
Let Durant go all out on offense, with Butler and the rest of the Kings forming a defensive safety net behind him.
Almost no team could withstand that kind of offensive onslaught.
"It's not too early,"
Chen Yilun shook his head.
"Our main task now is to get past Golden State as quickly as possible, then rest up and wait for the Celtics."
Malone thought for a moment, about to respond, when a sudden shout burst from the television.
"James drives into the lane! Kicks it out! JR forces the shot over Jaylen Brown's defense—IT'S GOOD!!!!"
The score froze at 103–103.
Overtime.
Watching the game on screen, Coach Malone finally made up his mind.
"Alright, we'll do it your way. We really can't wait any longer."
He stood up from the couch. "In that case, I'll head back and start preparing for the next game. I won't stay to watch the rest."
After Malone left, Chen Yilun watched the entire overtime by himself, thoroughly enjoying it.
In the end, LeBron James still fell under Boston's pack-defense strategy.
In the final possessions, James could barely even run. He could only watch helplessly as his opponents sealed the game.
Though it was only Game 1, anyone with eyes could see it.
The Cavaliers had burned through their last shred of fighting spirit.
The East was no longer in doubt.
...
...
"Durant catches the ball on the perimeter, facing Paul George! The three is good!"
Against Durant's Whale Shot, even an elite defender like George had no answer. He could only watch as the ball dropped cleanly through the net.
"That's dirty! That's dirty!"
Coach Kerr stood on the sideline, practically grinding his teeth to dust.
From the opening tip, the Kings had shown overwhelming aggression, with Durant repeatedly scoring from the perimeter.
He had almost single-handedly torn through the Warriors' defense.
In the face of absolute power, tactics looked pale and meaningless.
"Who would've thought,"
Chen Yilun said with a smile from the sidelines, "the boy who slayed the dragon would become the dragon himself."
As a core member of the Spurs system, Chen Yilun had always believed in the power of teamwork. For years, the Spurs had been the stumbling block that tripped up countless superstars.
Often, you had to beat the Spurs in the playoffs just to earn the right to compete for the top spot in the league.
"Pop… Pop…"
Chen Yilun muttered to himself. "So all that disdain for superstars—turns out it was just sour grapes."
"The feeling of throwing mushroom bombs really is amazing."