Chapter 252: Reenacting the Famous Scene, Stepping Over the Opponent
The Nuggets returned to offense.
Kenyon Martin caught the ball, lowered his shoulder, and took two explosive steps toward the rim. He was still burning from being scored on, eager to strike back and reclaim some pride.
But his floater came out awkward, the angle too sharp. It bounced off the rim.
The moment the shot left his fingers, every Nuggets player sprinted back on defense. Missing the shot wasn't the concern. Their real fear was Phoenix's transition attack.
Chen Yan brought the ball up himself this time while Nash shifted toward the opposite wing to direct movement. Chen stopped a step outside the right wing three point line. Kenyon Martin immediately crowded him, jaw moving nonstop, tossing out trash talk and jabbing his hands forward with physical pressure.
This was Denver's home court. Whistles here leaned their way, and Martin knew it. His defense was more contact than technique, purposely bumping Chen to disrupt his balance.
Chen dribbled with his left hand, shielding the ball with his right forearm, waiting for Stoudemire to bring the screen.
Even though his isolation skills were elite, Chen knew better than to dribble into double teams every possession. This was not streetball. This was NBA playoff basketball.
Stoudemire came up to screen. Chen brushed past it, pulled back, reset, then repeated the pattern. Three times he looped around the screen, adjusting his rhythm like a musician calibrating tempo.
Stoudemire stayed frozen in place, terrified that even shifting an inch would be called a moving screen.
Finally, Chen found the beat he wanted.
A quick shoulder dip. A sudden rise.
The three point jumper launched.
His elevation was massive. His knee reached the level of Kenyon Martin's thigh. Martin, still recovering from the hesitation move, barely stretched out a hand.
Kenny Smith shouted from the TNT booth, "Oh, he's feeling it!"
Before the broadcast could breathe, the net snapped.
Swish.
A lightning quick three. Clean and ruthless.
Nuggets 94, Suns 85.
The gap was finally under ten.
George Karl's face tightened. He popped up instantly.
"Timeout!"
Veteran coaches didn't wait for disasters. They tried to stop the bleeding early.
On the Suns' bench, D'Antoni clapped urgently. "This is it! Keep pushing!"
Chen's back to back threes had revived the entire Phoenix bench. Energy surged up and down the sideline.
After the timeout, Denver stuck with the same lineup. Karl didn't want to send a message of panic to his players. His message was simple.
Hold the line.
And Carmelo answered.
He caught the pass on the left wing, rose in rhythm, and drained a clean mid range jumper.
Nuggets 96, Suns 85.
The Pepsi Center roared like a living monster.
George Karl exhaled. Finally, a stabilizing shot.
But as he turned back toward the court, Chen Yan fired again.
Another shot from deep.
This time the play came off a cut. Nash hit Chen with a lead pass. Instead of forcing a drive into Camby and Martin, Chen curved along the baseline, jumped the ball to the corner, and passed out to Diaw.
Diaw, smooth as ever, brought the ball through his legs and flicked it behind him.
Perfect timing. Perfect angle.
The French Magician had delivered a clever pass and used his own body to slow Kenyon Martin.
Chen caught it with space.
A clean corner three.
The ball bounced twice.
Then dropped.
The arena trembled.
Nuggets 96, Suns 88.
Kenny shouted, "He's raining threes all over Denver!"
Barkley cackled. "This kid is on fire! Somebody better put a man on him!"
For the first time in a long while, Kenyon Martin stopped talking. His jaw clenched shut. He knew Chen was in rhythm now.
Chen looked directly at the Nuggets bench and yelled, "Hey! Wide open again? Nobody thinking of guarding me?"
George Karl stared straight ahead, face stiff. Martin glared, seething, but couldn't respond.
Denver returned to offense. Iverson dribbled between the legs twice, forced a difficult pull up.
It clanged off.
Iverson wasn't trying to be reckless. He sensed Phoenix's surge and wanted to halt their momentum. But time had caught him. This wasn't the Iverson of old.
The long rebound hit the floor and bounced straight into Nash's hands.
The Captain Canada shifted gears, pushing the break. Chen sprinted diagonally ahead of him like a streak of orange light.
Kenny's voice rose. "The Suns are coming back! Let's see what Nash does with this one!"
Denver scrambled to retreat, but their legs weren't fast enough.
Nash slashed between defenders, drew all eyes, and fired the ball to the corner.
Chen caught it.
Martin came flying at him this time. No hesitation. No trash talk. Just pure, desperate defense.
Chen lifted the ball slightly, as if preparing to shoot.
Martin didn't bite.
He stayed crouched, arms out, ready.
The transition chance evaporated. The Nuggets had reset.
D'Antoni yelled across the court, "Clear out! Give him the side!"
The other four Suns players drifted to the far wing.
Martin prepared for the shot. He would rather give up a drive than let Chen hit a fourth straight three.
Chen dribbled twice. No reaction.
Then he drove baseline.
Martin stepped back instinctively.
That was all the opening Chen needed.
He dragged the ball through his legs, pulled it back violently, stopped on a dime, and stepped behind the three point line.
Pull up.
Perfect rhythm.
Perfect mechanics.
Martin stretched his arms helplessly, but he was too off balance to leave the floor.
Another defensive collapse.
Fans around the arena yelled in panic.
"No way!"
"Not again!"
"Somebody do something!"
The ball flew.
And sliced through the net.
Swish.
Four straight threes.
Nuggets 96, Suns 91.
The Pepsi Center fell dead silent for a full second before a mix of groans and frustrated screams erupted.
The shot didn't just pierce the net.
It pierced Denver's confidence.
Kenyon Martin turned his head to look at the ball, lost his footing, stumbled backward, and crashed onto the floor near the Nuggets bench.
Chen jogged back calmly.
Martin lay exactly in his path.
Chen didn't stop.
He stepped over him and kept walking.
The arena gasped.
Barkley nearly choked. "Hold up! He stepped right over him! Oh man!"
Kenny shouted, "That is disrespectful! That is classic! That is iconic!"
On the court, Iverson froze.
For a moment, the entire arena dissolved around him as a memory resurfaced:
Him stepping over Tyronn Lue in the Finals.
History had repeated itself.
But this time, it was his own teammate lying on the floor.
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