Seeing Steve Kerr's terrifying, almost predatory expression, Alvin Gentry wisely sat back down.
To be fair, Gentry understood why Kerr reacted so strongly.
Small-ball tactics were Kerr's lifeline, the foundation of his coaching philosophy, and the Warriors' most devastating weapon in winning last year's championship.
Their current dominance—the unstoppable firepower, the aura of invincibility—was built entirely on the Death Lineup.
Breaking up that lineup now would mean shattering its undefeated image, and all the prestige the Warriors had earned would slip away.
Anyone at the top will always face challengers—that never changes.
So even though Kerr knew that putting Andrew Bogut on the floor could ease the Warriors' interior crisis, he absolutely refused.
Lose this game? Adjust and win it back later.
But if the direction itself was wrong, no amount of tweaks could save them.
As Kerr fumed, the clock kept ticking.
"Give me the ball!"
Watching the lead slip further away, Curry finally lost patience. He shouted at Green, who was inbounding near the baseline.
As Curry's most loyal lieutenant, Green didn't hesitate. He immediately passed the ball to his leader.
Seeing Curry bring the ball up, CJ felt every drop of blood rush to his head. I have to stop him!
But suddenly, a large hand pressed down on his shoulder, shoving him aside.
Butler stepped forward, eyes blazing. "Step back! I'll take him one-on-one!"
Curry's temper flared at Butler's challenge.
"So now any Tom, Dick, or Harry thinks he can stand up to me?"
He spat the words through clenched teeth, then attacked Butler without hesitation.
Green came up to set a screen, and Curry quickly feinted toward the weak side.
Out of the corner of his eye, Butler noticed Green's legs spread wide to set a stronger pick. An idea struck him instantly.
He spun as if to slip around the screen, but deliberately planted one foot between Green's legs and gave a subtle twist.
"Ouch!"
Butler let out an exaggerated cry and toppled into Green's body.
"Beep!"
The whistle shrilled as Butler hit the floor.
"Warriors! Number 23! Offensive screen!"
Green sprang up like he'd been stung, charging at the referee. "Listen, I swear! That wasn't a foul. He leaned into me and flopped!"
Still on the floor, Butler flashed a sly grin. That makes four fouls for him, right?
CJ rushed over and pulled Butler up. As Butler rose, he leaned in and whispered, "Hit Green a few more times. Try to foul him out."
CJ nodded immediately. "Got it. Leave it to me."
Green's shouting only made the refs more annoyed. After a sharp glare, he sulked back.
"It's fine!" Curry, as team leader, stepped in to calm things. "They stole a possession, that's all. Focus. We're still taking this opener."
Since the foul limit hadn't been reached yet, no free throws were awarded. Kings inbounded.
CJ received the pass and instinctively looked toward Butler, but Butler signaled from afar.
Catching the cue, CJ raised his right hand to call the play.
The Kings moved fluidly, creating a mismatch for CJ against Green.
Dribbling on the perimeter, CJ eyed Green—who wasn't much taller than him—and felt a moment of doubt. This guy's really my mismatch target? Doesn't look much bigger than me.
Still, he stuck to the playbook.
He kept dribbling without calling for a screen. If a teammate came up, the Warriors might switch and ruin his matchup.
So CJ attacked alone, pounding the ball with crossovers until, with ten seconds left on the clock, he finally carved out an opening.
He drove hard, crossing over Green and heading into the paint.
With the Kings spacing the floor, the lane was wide open.
Green had no choice but to follow him inside.
But CJ wasn't even looking to score. He suddenly stopped in the paint, waiting for Green.
Caught off guard by the abrupt halt, Green barreled into him from behind.
"Ouch!"
CJ cried out theatrically, flinging the ball toward the rim as he flopped backward like a frog launching off the floor.
"Beep!"
The baseline referee blew the whistle.
"Warriors! Number 23! Pushing foul!"
"No way! That was a dive!" Green's booming voice echoed through the arena.
The ref cut him off with a stern glare. "Keep yelling and I'll give you a technical. Just answer me—did you push him or not?"
The words silenced Green instantly. In truth, when he bumped into CJ, he had instinctively placed his hand on his back.
"Great job drawing the foul!" Butler cheered, rushing over to haul CJ off the floor.
Meanwhile, Kerr's expression had darkened completely.
That foul put Green at five. One more, and he was done.
"Play it safe!" Curry urged, equally frustrated. If Green fouled out at this critical stage, it would cripple both their tactics and morale.
"They've got no sportsmanship," Green muttered bitterly.
"Cut it out!" Curry snapped, silencing him. "Save it for after the game. Right now, we win this!"
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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