Chapter 384: Fighting to the End, Keeping It Close
Chen Yan did not just explode statistically in the 3rd quarter. Against Team USA's pressure defense, he had 0 turnovers.
That was the part that calmed everyone down.
Once the ball reached his hands, it almost never left them until he decided it should. For the fans, that was the safest feeling in basketball, control.
For a moment, even Yao Ming faded from everyone's mind. All eyes were on Chen Yan now.
If he had one more superhuman quarter left, then anything could happen.
In the arena broadcast, the commentators could barely contain themselves.
"Chen Yan had 19 in the quarter," Olivier said, voice climbing. "That gives him 38 points, 8 assists, and 7 rebounds through 3. That is basically a triple double pace."
Jeff shuffled his notes and leaned into the microphone. "Historically, there has only been 1 triple double in Olympic play. In the 1976 Montreal Games, Soviet guard Alexander Belov had 23 points, 14 rebounds, and 10 assists in the bronze medal game. If Chen Yan gets one tonight, he would be the second player ever to do it, and it would be written into Olympic history."
Olivier laughed. "If he gets it or not, what he has already done tonight will be written into history. China is tied with Team USA after 3 quarters."
Jeff nodded. "And the biggest margin China ever lost to the United States was 47 points, back in the 2000 Sydney Olympics. That record is going to disappear tonight."
He was being careful with every word, and for good reason. At this score, even if China never scored again, Team USA still could not stretch it to 47.
But the fans were no longer thinking about moral victories or record keeping.
They were thinking about a miracle.
Chen Yan had made them believe.
…
On the bench, Chen Yan was gulping water like it was oxygen. Sweat poured off him, soaking his jersey, dripping from his chin.
Jonas crouched in front of him, diagramming the 4th quarter plan with urgent hands.
It was not that Chen Yan was acting like a star demanding attention. His body was screaming, and he was the only one who could feel it clearly.
The crowd saw the tie score and felt hope.
Chen Yan felt the cost.
In that 3rd quarter he had done everything, organized, scored, defended, survived double teams, survived traps, and never had a possession off. He swore he had never been this tired in any quarter, even with the Suns.
Then Wukesong exploded.
The camera cut to the tunnel.
Yao Ming was coming back out.
His frame filled the entrance like a shadow returning, and the building reacted like it had been waiting for him the whole time.
"Coach, let me start the 4th," Yao said, eyes locked.
Jonas hesitated. He could see the leg was not right.
Then he nodded.
Because the Olympics at home came once, and regret could last a lifetime.
…
The 4th quarter began under a wall of noise.
China's lineup was Chen Yan, Sun Dasheng, Zhu 8, Yi Jianlian, and Yao Ming.
It was basically an admission of reality. Chen Yan had to handle the ball. Jonas knew he was exhausted, but if anyone else tried to bring it up, the turnovers would come in waves.
Team USA countered with Deron Williams, Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, Tayshaun Prince, and Carlos Boozer.
It was targeted. Deron and Boozer were the Jazz duo, and they knew Yao Ming well from all those Rockets Jazz playoff battles.
China had the first possession.
Chen Yan used Yao Ming's massive body like a moving wall and came off it clean. Kobe got clipped, and Team USA had a rare communication hiccup. Chen Yan caught the pass with no defender within a meter.
No hesitation.
He rose from deep.
Swish.
His touch was still there.
On the sideline, Coach K finally snapped. "How are we letting this guy keep scoring?"
Mike D'Antoni, standing nearby, could only give a bitter smile. "That is who he is when he gets hot. The only way is to keep him from getting the ball."
Coach K went quiet.
With Chen Yan handling every possession, keeping him from the ball was a nice idea, and a fantasy.
Team USA answered immediately.
Deron and Boozer ran a classic pick and roll, using Yao's slow feet. Boozer popped to the free throw line and hit the jumper.
On the next China possession, Yao Ming limped up the floor, and the crowd winced with every heavy step.
Boozer fought him hard for position. As Yao finally got the entry, Prince's long arm snuck in and poked it loose.
Team USA ran, and Deron finished with a 1 handed dunk.
Over the next few trips, it kept happening. Fast break points, transition finishes, the physical gap showing itself in the clearest way.
Jonas called timeout.
China stayed with the same group.
Team USA rotated again, fresh legs on fresh legs. Their advantage was not just talent, it was that they could sprint like this in waves.
Out of the timeout, Chen Yan drove and kicked.
The pass sailed straight out of bounds in front of Zhu.
Stamina was stealing focus.
The turnover went on Chen Yan's line, but everyone knew the truth. This was what exhaustion looked like.
Chen Yan patted Zhu on the back anyway. At this point, every man in red had emptied himself.
And the fatigue hit Chen Yan too.
After that 3 at the start of the quarter, he went 0 for 3.
Team USA turned the defense into a relay race, rotating perimeter bodies onto him, fresh, strong, relentless, grabbing, bumping, chasing him off every touch.
The lead stretched back beyond 10.
Kobe and LeBron turned sharp and ruthless. They had just lost to Chen Yan in the playoffs, and the idea of losing again, in Beijing, was unacceptable.
The roar in Wukesong slowly dropped into a tense hum.
China's 2 pillars were a man running on fumes and a man limping on one leg.
The fight was still there.
But fight did not erase physics.
With 1:41 left, the scoreboard read 107 to 94.
On a dead ball, Jonas pulled Chen Yan and Yao Ming.
The Olympics had only started. There were more games ahead, more battles that still mattered.
Chen Yan's final line settled at 44 points, 10 rebounds, and 9 assists, 1 assist short of a triple double.
He did not chase it in the final minute. He did not need to.
Forcing it would have turned a masterpiece into something people could nitpick. Tonight was not about padding numbers, it was about carrying a nation's hope as far as his legs could take him.
The final score was 109 to 96, Team USA escaping with a controlled win in their opener.
In the closing call, the broadcast voice carried both pride and exhaustion.
"As the final buzzer sounds," Coach Sun said, "China's first game of this Olympics is over. It was thrilling, it was historic. Our guys never backed down, and they kept this game alive until the end. The 13 point margin is the smallest point difference China has ever had against the United States."
Zhang Heli followed. "You can see exactly what Chen Yan changes for this team. The pick and roll with Yao, the scoring, the fast breaks, the shooting, the ball handling, that is what we have been missing on the perimeter for years. We lost, but the future is bright. Rest, recover, and get ready for the next opponent."
Even in victory, Team USA did not look joyful. The game had been far more difficult than the final margin suggested.
LeBron led them with 20 points, more than half in transition, his style fitting perfectly with this team's identity, speed, pressure, and downhill force.
Dwyane Wade had 17 off the bench, slicing through both half court gaps and open court chaos.
Dwight Howard and Kobe finished with 13 each.
For China, Yao Ming was the next best performer behind Chen Yan. He went 7 for 13 from the field, 1 for 2 from 3, and 3 for 4 at the line for 18 points, fighting through pain to give his country every second he had.
Zhu went 4 for 8, and all 4 makes were from 3, the kind of strange stat line that still somehow fit him perfectly.
Yi Jianlian had a quiet night statistically with 9 points, but his putback dunk over Carmelo Anthony became a snapshot the crowd would never forget.
When it was finally over, Wukesong stood and applauded for a long time.
Not for the win.
For the effort.
For the drenched jersey on Chen Yan.
For the limp in Yao Ming's step.
For every Chinese player who left everything on that floor.
It was a loss on the scoreboard.
But nobody on that team walked out with their head down.
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