Chapter 280: He Knocked Down His Opponent Twice in a Single Quarter and Won the First Half by a Buzzer
Chen Yan wiped the grin off his face the moment the ball dropped. Fun play, sure, but there was still work to do. He turned and sprinted back on defense, eyes already locked in on the next possession.
The scoreboard read 46 to 37.
San Antonio answered with what they trusted most. Parker brought it up and fed Duncan on the block. Duncan caught, settled, then spun into that familiar bank shot motion.
Soft touch, clean angle.
39 to 46.
Tim Duncan could hit that move in his sleep, and the Spurs looked just as calm as ever. No panic, no flailing, just steady pressure, trying to grind their way back into the game.
Phoenix came down.
Chen started moving the moment they crossed half court. Bowen stayed tight, but Chen's footwork was sharp and purposeful. He used a couple off ball screens, slipped past Bowen's shoulder, and looped around the top of the arc to catch the pass.
The Spurs switched fast. Parker stepped up to take him.
Parker was one of the quickest guards alive. Chen's response was simple.
Beat speed with speed.
The instant Parker leaned forward, Chen exploded.
Lightning First Step.
Parker had barely planted when Chen was already past him. That tiny timing gap was all Chen needed.
Bang.
Parker lost his footing and dropped straight onto his backside.
Barkley's voice jumped an octave. "Oh my goodness, Chen just put Tony Parker in a highlight reel with one move."
Kenny laughed in disbelief. "That is not easy to do. Parker's too fast, too smart. Chen just stole his balance and his pride."
Parker tried to scramble up, hands on the floor, still fighting to recover. But Chen had no interest in forcing a drive into traffic. He yanked the ball back behind the line in one smooth pull, leaving Parker stranded.
Wide open.
Chen gave a quick shoulder shake, the kind that made the crowd start rising before the ball even left his hands. Then he let it fly.
Swish.
49 to 39.
Kids all over the country started copying that little shoulder twitch in their living rooms. Somewhere in North Carolina, a skinny kid was doing it with extra enthusiasm.
Dell Curry watched his son grin at the screen. "Steph, that move is a little disrespectful, don't you think?"
Stephen didn't even look away from the game. "Nah, Dad. He shook him up, then helped him up after. That's not disrespect. That's confidence."
On the Spurs' next trip, Duncan went right back to the same spot, same angle. He tried to punish Phoenix again.
This one rattled out.
Even Duncan's signature bank shot was not automatic. If it were, Popovich would just clear the floor and let him write the whole script by himself.
Phoenix pushed.
Diaw fired a long outlet to Chen, hoping to ignite another break, but Chen bobbled the catch. By the time he secured it, the window was gone. Half court set.
Nash waved everyone out. Clear the lane, spread the floor, let Chen go hunting.
Chen went into his bag, crossing low, changing direction, shifting pace. The rhythm was nasty, but Bowen did not bite.
Bowen was too experienced, too disciplined. This was playoff defense, not a gym run. Even with Chen's skills, you could not just freestyle your way through a locked in veteran every time.
Chen read the wall and made the right play. He swung it back to Nash with about 10 seconds left.
Nash tried to manufacture something off a quick action. The ball found Azubuike in the corner.
Miss.
Bowen tried one the other way.
Miss again.
Both teams hit a late stretch of cold shooting. That happens in the playoffs. Legs get heavy, bodies get banged, and jumpers stop falling unless you are playing out of your mind.
…
The clock slid under 30 seconds in the quarter.
29 seconds left. Suns up 53 to 44.
Ginobili checked back in for San Antonio. Phoenix countered by bringing Raja Bell in for Azubuike. Azubuike had been huge in the second quarter, and the crowd sent him off with a standing ovation. D'Antoni even gave him a quick pat on the head. In this building, effort gets rewarded, and confidence grows fast.
San Antonio held for a clean look.
Ginobili walked the ball up, eyes on the clock. Seven seconds on the shot clock, 12 seconds left in the half. Duncan came up for the screen. Ginobili snaked into the lane, got his shoulder past Bell, and went for the finish.
But his stride stretched a bit too long, the rhythm broke, and the layup rolled off.
Diaw grabbed the rebound. San Antonio sprinted back, completely unwilling to give up another easy break.
Phoenix slowed it down anyway. They wanted the last shot.
Diaw looked for Nash. Nash pointed straight at Chen.
Your ball. Your moment.
Chen took the pass and strolled up the floor. Bowen waited in front, hands ready, but he did not gamble early. He knew one bad reach and Chen would be past him in a blink.
Three steps behind the arc, Bowen finally lunged. With about five seconds left, he had to try something.
Chen made him regret it instantly.
The second Bowen dipped, Chen snatched the ball forward, spun cleanly around him, and burst past.
Then he hit the brakes.
Bowen, already off balance, stumbled and dropped again.
That was the second takedown of the quarter. First Parker, now Bowen. Two different defenders, same result.
The arena exploded.
Chen rose from deep, well beyond the line, no hesitation left in his motion. The Spurs were stretched so far out guarding his range that nobody could even contest in time.
The horn was coming. The shot had to go.
Swish.
The ball cut through the air and punched the net clean.
56 to 44.
Halftime.
Popovich stared at the floor, face tight. The Spurs bench went quiet too, because they all remembered Game 1. Deep threes like that were not just points, they were morale damage.
Back home, fans lost their minds.
"That range is ridiculous."
"He's hitting from the logo like it's a layup."
"At this point, a paint company should hire him, because he's got perfect coverage from anywhere."
Phoenix went into the locker room up 12, with Chen Yan owning the quarter in every way that mattered.
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