Chapter 524: The Black Four Minutes
"50 points in 3 quarters. Chen Yan has gone completely insane."
"He played all 3 quarters too."
"That is a real iron man."
"The score is still close. He will probably play the entire 4th."
"Can he break his own playoff single game record of 70?"
During the break between quarters, fans were already in a frenzy.
The second half had barely begun when he scored again.
Using a screen to back cut, he caught the ball, rose calmly, and knocked down a midrange jumper.
87 to 92.
That was his 52nd point of the night.
The Mavericks were no longer defending him as tightly as they had in the first half. Carlisle had realized something important. Even with Chen Yan exploding for 50 plus, Phoenix had not truly pulled away. At that point, he no longer cared what kind of stat line Chen Yan finished with. All he cared about was winning. One more loss and Dallas would be eliminated. In the face of survival, pride meant nothing.
Carlisle had gone into full gamble mode.
Let Chen Yan score alone.
Let him take all the shots.
Turn the rest of the Suns into spectators.
It had worked in the 3rd quarter. Chen Yan's nonstop shot making had made Phoenix increasingly reliant on him, and the psychology of the rest of the team had started to shift.
Dallas came right back. Ray Allen first took a pass from Dirk and buried a midrange jumper from the corner, then cut to the rim, drew contact, and calmly made both free throws.
The gap was down to 1.
Carlisle's gamble was working.
On the sideline, D Antoni kept stroking his beard. A face can lie, but habits usually do not. He was anxious.
If Phoenix could not hold serve in this home game, then Game 6 in Dallas would become dangerous, and the series might even get dragged into a Game 7.
But anxiety was all D Antoni could offer in that moment. In game adjustments had always been his weak point. At a time like this, he could only put his faith in the players on the floor.
Chen Yan broke into motion along the right baseline, then suddenly slammed on the brakes and cut hard toward the middle.
Stoudemire and Diaw timed it perfectly, forming a double elevator screen that shut Artest and Antoine Wright out of the play.
This was the elevator screen, the play the Suns had drilled repeatedly in practice. Under D Antoni's staff, the team had already concluded that it was ideal for their shooters. Chen Yan could use it. Nash could use it. Their role players could use it too. As long as the timing was right, it would create a clean shooting window.
The moment Chen Yan popped free, Nash delivered the pass.
A half step behind the free throw line, Chen Yan turned, rose, and released in one smooth motion.
Swish.
91 to 94.
His total climbed to 54.
Dallas came back on offense. Terry came off a screen and did not attack the rim. Dirk flowed into the action, and Artest caught the ball at the top of the arc. He gave a shot fake, then put it on the floor with his left hand.
The first dribble almost got away from him. He recovered just in time, leaned into Grant Hill, and forced down a midrange shot.
93 to 94.
After scoring, Artest showed no emotion.
He had been thoroughly educated by Chen Yan all night. More than half of Chen Yan's 54 points had come with Artest right there in the picture.
Phoenix answered again. Chen Yan did not run off ball this time. In the 4th quarter, even an iron man's legs had limits. He stayed high, took the ball at the top, and went right at Artest.
Bang. Bang.
A quick sequence of crossovers, then a hard drive to the right. Artest stayed attached, using all the strength he had left to squeeze Chen Yan's driving lane.
At the right elbow, Chen Yan suddenly snapped the ball behind his back and stepped away, creating nearly a full body length of separation.
Then came the first Hesi move.
Artest did not bite. Chen Yan had already gone to that well enough times that Artest refused to be fooled.
Chen Yan put the ball back on the floor, drove right again, took one step, switched hands through his legs, and flowed straight into the second Hesi move.
Artest still did not flinch.
By then, the possession had become more complicated than Chen Yan wanted. The score was tight. He wanted a clean shot, not just a rushed one.
With the shot clock dwindling, he took one hard dribble with his left hand, rose, and shot a difficult jumper right over Artest.
Swish.
High post jumper, pure.
93 to 95.
That made 56.
fans immediately started laughing online.
"So many moves and then he just shoots over him anyway."
"He did all that just to pull up in his face."
"Hahaha. Artest thought he defended it, but he really did not."
"Carlisle is letting him go one on one when he is this hot? Is he helping him chase a record?"
"Brother Carlisle."
Dallas went back to the same foundation, Kidd and Dirk in the pick and roll.
Phoenix switched, and Dirk again looked to punish Nash with his size. He backed him down twice, then turned to shoot from the high post.
This time Chen Yan came flying in from the side to trap.
Dirk's release was almost unblockable from straight on, but side pressure was different. He had to alter the shot, and the ball clanged off the rim.
Diaw secured the rebound and instantly fired the outlet.
Nash and Chen Yan were already beyond the 3 point line, both streaking. Phoenix had numbers and space.
Nash pushed, drew the defense, and fed Chen Yan for an uncontested layup.
93 to 97.
Dallas came back to the same action again. Kidd and Dirk went into the pick and roll once more.
After the switch, Dirk again wanted to shoot over Nash, but now he was more cautious. Before turning, he scanned both sides.
He saw the trap coming. Stoudemire jumped him immediately.
Dirk kicked it back out to Kidd, who had a clean 3 point look.
Miss.
Phoenix missed on the ensuing break as well, Chen Yan missing a 3 in transition.
Dallas missed again on the other end.
The Suns were using the simplest possible defensive rule. Switch immediately. If the shot comes fast, send a second defender. No fancy coverage, no overcomplication.
Dallas, meanwhile, looked cursed.
It was just Kidd or Allen initiating, Dirk screening, then another pass, another screen, another jumper. Over and over. The shape of the offense barely changed.
For 4 full minutes, Dallas managed only 3 points.
It was as if, all at once, they had forgotten how to play basketball.
Phoenix punished them with a brutal 13 to 3 run.
The Mavericks collapsed without warning.
.....
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