Chapter 239: Powerful Dunk — Are You the Shot-Blocking King?
As both teams walked into the tunnel for halftime, Taylor Swift stood courtside and blew Chen Yan a playful kiss. The pop star's smile was wide; the Suns were up by double digits, and Chen Yan had been unstoppable all half.
Chen smiled back, lifted a hand in acknowledgment, and disappeared into the tunnel. He knew there was no reason to celebrate yet. A ten-point lead meant nothing in the playoffs.
"The Suns put up sixty-three points in the first half! They completely controlled the tempo, running their offense to perfection. The Nuggets, on the other hand, were just taking turns going one-on-one. That kind of basketball doesn't win playoff series," the TNT commentator said during halftime.
"Exactly," his partner agreed. "And it's Chen Yan driving that pace. Twenty-nine points in the first half—he's been in attack mode since tip-off."
"Keep in mind," the other added, "he sat out a good chunk of the second quarter. That's efficiency at its finest."
While the broadcasters praised him, Chen sat quietly in the locker room, catching his breath. It hadn't been as easy as it looked. The physical toll of a playoff game was completely different from the regular season. Every play went through him; every possession demanded full effort.
Coach D'Antoni stood at the whiteboard. "Keep pushing the pace," he said firmly. "Run, move the ball, make them chase. Speed is our lifeblood—don't slow down."
Across the hall, George Karl's voice echoed through the Nuggets locker room. "Success rate! Make shots, and they can't run. That's how you stop their transition—by making every look count."
The Nuggets weren't discouraged. They'd been in tough games before. Ten points wasn't much if they found rhythm.
The third quarter began.
Suns starting five: Nash, Chen Yan, Grant Hill, Boris Diaw, Amar'e Stoudemire.
Nuggets starting five: Iverson, Linas Kleiza, Carmelo Anthony, Kenyon Martin, Marcus Camby.
Both teams were going small for pace.
Nash took the inbound and crossed half court, signaling for the pick-and-roll. Stoudemire set a solid screen and rolled hard. Nash slipped a one-handed bounce pass right into his stride—it was their trademark connection.
Meanwhile, Chen cut along the baseline, dragging defenders with him. His movement opened the paint like a gate.
Stoudemire powered through the lane and finished high off the glass over Camby.
"That's the Suns' rhythm," Barkley said. "You collapse on Chen, Amar'e eats at the rim."
On the other end, Carmelo got the ball from Iverson, spun toward the basket, and muscled in a layup through contact.
65-55.
Grant Hill shook his head as he jogged to the baseline to inbound. Melo's mix of size and quickness made him a nightmare in transition.
After Anthony scored, the Nuggets immediately fell back on defense, cutting off the Suns' fast-break chance.
Nash calmly brought the ball up the floor and called for another pick-and-roll with Stoudemire at the top of the key.
This time, instead of feeding Amar'e on the roll, Nash swung the ball to Chen Yan, who had found a better position.
Chen shook Kleiza with a quick back-and-forth cut, caught the pass in rhythm, and pulled up for a long two.
"Swish!" The net snapped cleanly.
Chen had done most of his damage with the ball in the first half. It was draining work, constantly creating off the dribble. Now, in the third quarter, he shifted his approach—more off-ball movement, more trust in Nash's vision.
As long as he found open space, he knew Nash would find him.
Both teams started the third quarter executing well on offense. After nearly six minutes, the score gap hovered around ten points.
Both coaches were irritated.
D'Antoni wanted to see his team break the game open, while George Karl was frustrated that, no matter how many shots his team hit, they couldn't close the gap.
On Denver's next possession, Kenyon Martin backed down near the rim and tossed up a right-handed hook.
"Bang!" It rimmed out hard.
Kenyon Martin could finish plays around the basket, but creating offense for himself wasn't his strength. Back in New Jersey, Jason Kidd had made him an All-Star by feeding him perfect passes. Iverson wasn't that kind of playmaker.
Marcus Camby fought for the rebound, tipping the ball away from Diaw and Stoudemire, forcing it out of bounds. He didn't get the board, but at least the Suns didn't start a fast break—good enough for Denver.
The Suns inbounded from the baseline. By the time Nash crossed half court, the Nuggets were already set in their defensive positions.
Nash stood at the top of the key, dribbling patiently. Chen curved around the left side to the 45-degree angle, ready to receive the ball.
But Nash looked him off and instead hit Grant Hill cutting through the lane.
Anthony, caught daydreaming, didn't react. He completely lost sight of Hill.
By the time he realized what happened, Hill was already under the rim. He made no effort to chase, just watched helplessly.
Anthony's defense had long been a talking point. It wasn't that he couldn't defend—he just preferred saving his energy for offense.
Grant Hill gathered himself and drove to the basket. After shaking Melo, he leaped for a dunk, a flash of his younger self—the man once called "the next Jordan."
But Camby was waiting.
"Bang!"
The league's shot-block leader sent Hill's dunk flying.
The fans groaned. Hill's athleticism wasn't what it used to be. Years of injuries had robbed him of his explosiveness, and going up against a rim protector like Camby at this stage was wishful thinking.
Hill hit the floor hard, grimacing, but the ball stayed alive.
Amar'e Stoudemire grabbed it on the bounce and immediately went up for a floater.
"Bang!"
Camby rejected that one too! Two blocks in a single possession!
The Nuggets' bench went wild, towels flying through the air.
The ball bounced out beyond the arc, where Chen Yan came charging in. He snatched it mid-air with one hand before Kleiza could even react.
His strength showed in that grab—firm, effortless, controlled.
Without breaking stride, Chen drove straight to the basket.
Camby, fired up from his two blocks, turned to meet him, arms raised high like a volleyball player going for a block.
In his mind, Chen was just another victim waiting to be denied.
But Camby miscalculated.
He underestimated Chen's vertical, and worse, he was still recovering from his previous jumps. His legs were slower, his lift lower.
Chen exploded off the ground like a missile.
Mid-air, Camby realized something was wrong—Chen wasn't going up, he was already coming down on top of him!
"BOOM!!!"
The arena shook as Chen Yan threw down a vicious dunk right over the reigning shot-block king!
It wasn't just a dunk—it was a statement.
Raw. Powerful. Unforgiving.
The crowd erupted in chaos, the noise deafening. Fans jumped from their seats, waving their arms, shouting so loud the court itself seemed to vibrate.
Chen landed, chest heaving, and turned to face Camby, who was still standing under the rim, stunned.
Chen smirked and muttered just loud enough for the cameras to catch it.
"You're the shot-block king, huh?"
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