Chapter 547: Boss Cai, the Finals Begin
US Airways Center was packed to the rafters.
After its 2003 renovation, the arena could now hold more than 19,000 fans, yet even that was nowhere near enough for tonight. Tickets for Game 1 of the NBA Finals had long since become impossible to find.
Before tipoff, the broadcast camera settled on a Chinese couple seated courtside.
The moment their faces appeared on the giant screen, cheers and applause broke out around the arena. They were Chen Yan's parents.
This was not their first time watching a game at US Airways Center, and Suns fans were already familiar with them. Phoenix's love for Chen Yan had reached its absolute peak, so naturally, that affection extended to his family as well.
An ESPN reporter even came over to interview them before the game and asked for their prediction.
At that very moment, a group of students in China erupted in excitement in front of their television screens.
Their teacher was on TV.
And not just on any TV program, but on NBA Finals broadcast.
They were all Mother Chen's students. She taught junior high, and boys that age naturally loved basketball and dreamed of the NBA. Just a few days ago, she had been standing on the classroom podium. Now she was sitting in the front row of the Finals. There was no way they would not be jealous.
The seats Father Chen and Mother Chen occupied had reportedly been resold for tens of thousands of dollars each.
In some small or medium sized cities in 2009, that kind of money was enough to buy a small apartment.
Because Chen Yan's parents did not speak English, the refined Asian man seated beside them volunteered to translate.
"Which team do you think will win tonight?" the ESPN reporter asked with a bright smile. "The Suns or the Magic?"
The man translated the question in a gentle, polished accent that sounded like he was from Taiwan.
Mother Chen smiled but did not answer. She was not a hardcore fan and did not really understand basketball. She had come for one reason only, to support her son.
Father Chen was different. He owned a sporting goods store and had been an NBA fan since the Jordan era.
He answered, his voice a little unsteady from nerves.
"The Suns will win. I believe in the Suns' strength, and I believe in my son's strength. This is the Suns' home court, and the whole arena is behind them, so we will definitely win tonight."
He paused, then added with even more conviction, "And not just tonight. I believe the Suns will beat the Magic and win the championship."
The man beside him translated calmly and smoothly for the reporter, handling the moment with the composure of someone who had seen plenty of big occasions.
As soon as the translation was finished, the surrounding crowd burst into cheers.
This was Phoenix. Hearing a prediction like that on their own floor was enough to lift the whole arena.
The reporter smiled again and asked, "Then how many games do you think the Suns will need to win the series?"
Father Chen thought for a moment.
"4 to 1, or maybe 4 to 2. The Magic are also a very strong team."
That was classic modesty. Saying on camera that Phoenix would sweep the opponent would have been too disrespectful. At the very least, he had to leave Orlando one win.
During the interview, Chen Yan was on the floor going through his shooting warmup. He happened to glance over and nearly froze.
The man translating for his father was none other than Tsai.
Chen Yan remembered that in his previous life, Tsai had gone on to buy the Nets. Right now, he was still working at Alibaba and had not yet become an NBA owner, but he was already a devoted basketball fan who often showed up at live games.
When warmups ended, Chen Yan simply walked over and greeted him. It was their first meeting.
Soon after, both teams returned to their locker rooms to change.
Then came the player introductions.
With the arena lights dimmed, the music pounding, and the DJ working the crowd into a frenzy, the Suns players emerged from the tunnel one by one.
Because the team had reached the Finals, Phoenix's front office had completely redesigned the entrance sequence. The intro video was new. The music was new. Even the player announcements had been reworked.
They were trying every possible way to light the crowd on fire before the opening tip. That was how a home court advantage became real.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our perimeter iron gate, from Florida International University, Raja Bell!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, the French magician, from Paris Ouest Nanterre La Défense, Boris Diaw!"
Then the DJ's voice exploded through the building.
"And now, the NBA All Star MVP! The regular season MVP! The Finals MVP! The scoring champion! The eternal warrior of Phoenix, from the University of Texas, Chennnnnnn Yaaaaaaan!"
The roar that answered him was deafening.
Chen Yan emerged into a storm of sound that felt like it had shattered the 140 decibel mark, slapping hands with teammates lined up on both sides of the tunnel.
There was no doubt anymore. He was the most beloved player in all of Phoenix.
And yet, despite being the biggest star, Chen Yan still chose to enter from the middle of the line, leaving the first and final spots to Stoudemire and Nash. It was his way of showing respect to the veterans, and of acknowledging everything they meant to the team.
When the introductions ended, the arena screen displayed the starting lineups.
For Orlando, it was Rafer Alston, Courtney Lee, Hedo Turkoglu, Rashard Lewis, and Dwight Howard.
Their structure had not changed from earlier playoff rounds. One beast in the middle, four shooters around him.
Even though Jameer Nelson had returned from injury, Stan Van Gundy still kept him on the bench. He had missed too much time and needed a gradual return.
Phoenix's starters were Steve Nash, Chen Yan, Grant Hill, Boris Diaw, and Amare Stoudemire.
Hill got the nod at forward, a small adjustment that clearly aimed to boost Phoenix's offensive punch from the opening tip.
On the broadcast, analysts pointed out that the Suns lineup was mostly familiar, with Hill's insertion meant to add more shot creation. They also noted that Alston would be especially familiar to fans after his years as Yao Ming's backcourt partner in Houston.
And it was not just ABC airing the game.
Across Asia, from Korea and Japan to Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand, television networks had picked it up. Chen Yan's popularity across the continent was absurd. If he had gone on an Asia tour in the offseason, the reception might have looked like Beatlemania.
At center court, the starting fives assembled under the bright arena lights.
The Finals logo had been set over the center circle, complete with a championship trophy motif. In the stands, Phoenix fans waved signs about defending the title. On his feet, Chen Yan wore the AeroWing 2 Finals edition, custom made for the moment.
Everything about the night screamed Finals basketball.
The referee stepped in, lifted the ball, and blew the whistle.
The 2008 to 2009 NBA Finals had officially begun.
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]