Chapter 289: The Traditional Way to Punish the Spurs
Before Game 4 even tipped off, fans all over were praying for a faster pace. Within a few possessions, they realized they had been way too optimistic.
Popovich had just won Game 3 with his slowdown tactics. There was no chance he was abandoning that so quickly.
In the first quarter, Tony Parker followed the playbook to the letter, grinding the clock on almost every trip.
After 3 or 5 possessions, some people in the crowd were already fighting off yawns.
By halftime, the score was 39 to 43.
"The pace of this game," Kenny Smith said on the broadcast, "looks like a good high school team trying to run sets in slow motion."
Charles Barkley snorted. "High school? Nah, Kenny, this looks like somebody hit the slow button on the remote."
The Spurs shot only 39 percent in the first half. The Suns were even worse at 31 percent. Calling it a bricklayers convention would not have been unfair.
The one bright spot for Phoenix was that Chen Yan finally found some rhythm.
He went 7 for 15 from the field, 3 for 6 from three, and 2 for 3 at the free throw line, finishing the half with 19 points, easily the top scorer on either side.
…
In the second half, Popovich adjusted again.
From the Suns first possession after the break, Chen could feel the trap. The Spurs were sending a second defender at him almost every time he touched the ball.
On one possession, Bowen picked him up at the logo and Finley stepped over to help. Chen split the pressure with a hard dribble, rose from the logo, and let it fly.
"Swish."
Nothing but net.
42 to 43.
The Suns bench jumped up, all of them holding 3 fingers in the air.
With Nash and Amar'e Stoudemire both struggling and no one on the bench catching fire, Chen was the only reliable option Phoenix had.
But after cutting it to a 1 point game, the Suns offense went completely dry.
For almost 4 minutes, they could not buy a bucket.
Everything clanged out. Chen, growing more anxious, kept trying to shake the Spurs loose with more long range threes, but Popovich was already sitting on that.
The traps kept coming. Sometimes it was 2 defenders. Sometimes 3. It was wild.
Every shot Chen took was high difficulty. Every pass he made felt like it was being thrown through a maze of hands.
Basketball is still 5 on 5. When no one else on his side could punish the rotations, the entire game shrank around him. His impact was huge, but his space was tiny.
Late in the third quarter, the Spurs lead stretched to 12.
Almost 20,000 people in the ATT Center were already celebrating midway through the period.
For the Suns, it felt like humiliation creeping in.
Watching the scoreboard tilt the wrong way, Mike D'Antoni finally turned to the very end of his bench.
"Eric, you are in," he called.
Eric Piatkowski, who had averaged 2.7 points and 1.1 rebounds all season, checked in. Classic end of the bench, water cooler guy.
The Spurs broadcast truck was already laughing, and even Barkley chimed in.
"So that is the secret weapon?" Chuck said. "They bringing in a dude who has played more garbage time than real minutes. They better be praying for a miracle."
Kenny chuckled. "If he is out there, Chuck, they are not asking him to be a scorer. He is out there to do a job."
They figured that job was spacing the floor. They were wrong.
Piatkowski was not in there to get shots.
He was in there to hunt Bruce Bowen.
On the next Spurs possession, as soon as the ball was inbounded, Piatkowski wrapped Bowen up off the ball.
That was when it clicked for Popovich.
The Suns had gone to the classic "Hack Bowen" strategy.
Bowen had hit 41 percent from three that season. On the perimeter he looked like a solid shooter. At the free throw line, it was another story.
His career free throw percentage hovered around 57.5 percent, and it dropped further in the playoffs. People joked that his three point shooting looked like Steve Nash at the line, but his free throws looked more like Shaquille O'Neal.
Bowen stepped to the stripe.
"Clang."
"Clang."
He missed both.
Phoenix grabbed the rebound and pushed it to Nash.
Nash walked it into the frontcourt and waited for Chen to come free.
Amar'e Stoudemire and Boris Diaw sprinted up to set a double screen. Chen curled around them, caught the pass near the free throw line, rose in rhythm, and knocked down the midrange jumper.
No logo bombs. No deep heat checks.
Old school.
The Spurs inbounded again.
Piatkowski immediately hugged Bowen as soon as he tried to cut. Another foul.
This time, Bowen managed to steady himself.
"Bang."
"Swish."
He went 1 for 2, which for him was about normal.
On the next Suns trip, Chen took the ball at the left 45, called Amar'e up once more, and ran a clean screen and roll.
He snaked behind the screen. Bowen slid after him, but with a foul waiting on any contact, he did not dare to fully bump Chen off his line.
Chen leaned into Bowen, used his body to shield the ball, slowed his pace for half a beat, then slid sideways.
Another pull up from midrange.
"Swish."
Net, again.
The Spurs came back the other way.
Piatkowski reached out, grabbed Bowen for a third time, and sent him right back to the line.
"Man, I would be heated if I were Bowen," Barkley laughed. "You get hacked like you Shaq, but you do not get any of the superstar treatment."
Bowen muttered under his breath, then took the ball.
"Clang."
"Swish."
Another split trip, 1 of 2.
Phoenix ball.
Nash signaled and pointed to the side, telling everybody else to clear out.
He wanted an isolation for Chen.
Chen dribbled at the top, Bowen locked in on every twitch of his shoulders. He had already given up 2 midrange makes. He was not about to give up a third without a fight.
Chen crossed over hard, sold the drive, then slammed on the brakes and pulled back.
He created space 2 steps behind the three point line.
Bowen reacted instantly, flying forward to contest what he thought was another deep three.
Instead, Chen showed him the ball, then slapped it through to his other hand, blew past him, and drifted into the top of the arc.
Bowen lunged the wrong way. Completely fooled.
Chen rose straight up and fired.
"Swish."
Net, clean again.
Just like Kobe had told him, that midrange window, right between the help from inside and the contest from outside, was the soft spot in the Spurs system. Nobody could get there in time.
Watching from his home, Kobe clenched his fist and punched the air.
"That is it," he said to the television. "That is exactly how you beat them."
On the broadcast, Kenny's voice rose over the replay.
"Three straight midrange jumpers," he said. "Chen is punishing the Spurs in the most traditional way you can, over and over."
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