Chapter 525: Both 1st and 2nd Belong to Me
"The Mavericks' offense has gone cold again. If they do not snap out of it soon, this game is going to hit garbage time early," Kenny Smith said.
Barkley laughed. "I do not think Dallas can hold on much longer. At this point, the bigger suspense is not the winner. It is whether Chen Yan can get to 70. He already has 61."
During that 4 minute stretch, Chen Yan had remained the focal point of Phoenix's offense, and his total kept climbing.
Carlisle called timeout.
After the break, the Mavericks finally calmed down. They stopped forcing the issue and started working through each possession with more patience.
Kidd protected the ball at the top of the arc, then swung it to Ray Allen. Allen came off a screen, caught it, saw no opening, and immediately returned it to Kidd.
Kidd went straight into a middle pick and roll with Nowitzki. The action pulled the weak side defense into a switch, and Kidd slipped the ball to Dirk in the middle. Nowitzki rose and knocked down the midrange jumper.
98 to 110.
Dirk ran back on defense with a blank expression. At that stage, scoring by itself was not enough. Dallas also had to get stops. The hole they had dug earlier was simply too deep.
Phoenix came back down and Nash refused to rush.
He knew exactly what the Mavericks wanted. After crossing half court, he slowed the game, organized the spacing, and put more value on shot quality than tempo.
Chen Yan curled out to the 3 point line, but Nash did not force him the ball. Instead, he swung it to Grant Hill on the weak side.
At that point, the Mavericks' attention was completely locked onto Chen Yan. Nash wanted to turn that gravity into easier offense for everyone else.
Hill gave a shot fake, drove baseline, and drew a foul from Ray Allen. No one from Dallas came over to help.
He split the trip at the line.
98 to 111.
Play resumed.
Kidd pushed quickly to the wing and fired a sharp pass across to Nowitzki. Dirk did not hesitate for even a second. He rose and drilled the quick 3.
The Mavericks' offense seemed to regain some life, but it was little more than a last gasp.
The deficit was still in double digits, and Dallas still could not slow Phoenix down.
On the next Suns possession, Chen Yan did not bother with a screen. He came up directly and ran a handoff with Nash.
The moment he caught the ball, he went downhill. Artest stayed attached to him, chest to shoulder.
Chen Yan had never been afraid of body to body defense. He had too many ways to break it.
He suddenly decelerated, then exploded again, using the change of rhythm to wreck Artest's footwork. He swept the ball over Artest's head and finished with a soft, slow gathering floater.
101 to 113.
That was his 63rd point.
Artest's face darkened even further. Even without pure speed, Chen Yan could still beat him with rhythm. There was simply no answer.
Dallas came back and Kidd crossed half court, then handed it over to Terry, who rose for a 3 and missed.
Artest fought in for the offensive rebound and scored the putback. Terry's return had pushed Artest down to power forward.
The margin remained 12.
The Mavericks had not been awful offensively in that stretch. The problem was that they still could not make a dent in the lead.
Phoenix came right back, and Chen Yan waved everyone away to clear the floor.
If Dallas would not send the trap, he was going to play it straight up. His efficiency in isolation had been absurd all night, and he wanted to drive the final nail in himself.
He crossed hard to his right, then snapped it left.
His signature crossover.
The move was huge, violent, and instantaneous, creating space almost as if he had vanished and reappeared.
That had always been the cruel part of Chen Yan's game. Opponents knew the move was coming. They still could not stop it.
Artest had no choice but to foul.
That was his last act of resistance.
Chen Yan calmly made both free throws.
His total rose to 67.
The arena exploded.
He was now only a single basket away from tying his own playoff single game scoring record.
Carlisle immediately called another timeout.
He had to redesign the defense. If this kept up, Dallas would not just get buried, they would become the live backdrop for a new playoff scoring masterpiece.
Out of the timeout, he pulled Terry and sent Antoine Wright back in, committing completely to trapping Chen Yan on the perimeter. The plan was simple. The moment Chen Yan touched the ball, 2 defenders would be there. If he drove, the help would come instantly from the wing and the paint. They wanted to prevent him from even getting cleanly into his shooting motion.
The entire Suns team understood what was at stake.
Everyone on the floor started taking turns screening for Chen Yan, trying to free him for history.
After missing 2 straight, Chen Yan finally got the opening he wanted. He caught it in stride, sliced into the lane, and went up in one fluid motion.
Nowitzki and Artest both cut off his angle at the rim.
Chen Yan adjusted in midair, twisted his body, and flung the ball over his head from an absurd angle.
It kissed high off the glass and dropped through.
No matter the angle, no matter the balance, no matter the body control required, once he got into that zone, everything felt makeable.
After the bucket, Chen Yan hit Jordan's classic shrug.
Every camera in the building turned to him. Fans all over the world watched him showboat in real time.
Artest snapped.
On Dallas' next possession, he scored a putback, then celebrated by swinging his elbow while running back. The elbow caught Stoudemire in the neck and sent him to the floor.
Amare hit the hardwood covering his throat, looking furious and confused at the same time. Chen Yan had been the one torching Artest all night, yet somehow he was the one who ended up catching the elbow.
The referees saw it clearly.
Under a storm of boos, Artest was ejected.
Stoudemire got brief treatment on the sideline. The team doctor said he was fine, but D Antoni still took him out to be safe. He also pulled Chen Yan and Nash.
The game was essentially over. There was no reason to keep risking core players.
The final minutes passed quickly.
The Suns closed it out, 125 to 109, eliminating the Mavericks 4 to 1 and punching their ticket to the Western Conference Finals.
Carlisle was gracious enough to shake D Antoni's hand after the game, but it was obvious he wanted to get out of the building as quickly as possible. Dallas had not just lost the series, they had watched Chen Yan explode for 69 on their heads.
Chen Yan played the entire game.
He shot 24 of 38 from the field, 11 of 17 from 3, and 10 of 12 at the line.
"69 points. That is the 2nd highest single game scoring mark in NBA playoff history," Barkley said.
Kenny Smith laughed. "And the only man ahead of Chen Yan is Chen Yan from last year."
The two TNT commentators kept joking as the celebration continued.
Then Chen Yan turned to the camera and raised both hands. On his left hand, he held up 1 finger. On his right, 2 fingers.
A lot of fans were confused.
He had scored 69. Should that not have been a 6 and a 9?
But Chen Yan's meaning was obvious to anyone who thought about it for a second.
Now the No. 1 and No. 2 highest single game scoring performances in playoff history both belonged to him.
.....
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