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...
"This guy's way too fast!"
Kevin Garnett frowned. He had already seen through Vince Carter's screen and chased out immediately, but he simply couldn't keep up with Blake Su.
"This center's speed is unreal."
Paul Pierce sensed it too.
"Be careful,"
Ray Allen reminded them. "Don't treat Blake Su like a traditional center. He's completely different—a freakishly athletic big man who can run and jump.
And don't just think of him as a rookie. He's extremely strong."
Ray Allen, who had made a point of studying Blake Su, offered a sincere warning.
But… it clearly didn't carry much weight.
After all, Pierce and Garnett were franchise cornerstones. They weren't about to be intimidated by a rookie.
"Smack!"
On the left low block, Garnett caught the ball and faced Blake Su. Not only was he unafraid, he wanted to go at him one-on-one—answering in the most direct way possible.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Garnett backed him down, bodying him repeatedly, mixing in subtle half-spins with perfect rhythm. It was solid, textbook post work. Then he planted his foot.
Whoosh!
A sudden lateral burst.
Garnett slipped past Blake Su and rose to shoot—but it was a fake. Blake Su bit and left his feet.
"Young."
Garnett smirked. Keeping his pivot foot grounded, he stepped through with his right foot and gently flipped up a layup.
"Got it."
Rondo on the perimeter was already turning to run back.
But the instant the ball left Garnett's hand and kissed the backboard—
A massive hand came crashing down from above.
Bang!
The ball was pinned violently against the glass—
And ripped down.
"What?!"
Garnett's eyes widened in shock. When he saw it was Blake Su who had pinned his shot to the backboard and snatched it, disbelief flooded his face.
How was that possible?!
"Unbelievable!"
Jon Barry stared, stunned.
"Against the former Wolf King Garnett, after getting faked into the air—
Blake Su jumps again!
He still manages to pin Garnett's shot to the glass and grab it! What kind of bounce is that? What kind of explosion? What kind of wingspan? What kind of terrifying talent does it take to pull that off?!"
Mark Jackson chuckled.
"Yeah. Blake Su's got freak-of-nature talent. Only that kind of overwhelming athleticism lets you pin Garnett like that."
While the commentators were still in shock, the game never stopped.
After the block, Blake Su's eyes sharpened. He fired a surgical outlet pass—
Quick. Precise.
It found Steve Nash up ahead.
The ball swung again—
Right wing, above the arc—Curry caught it and pulled up immediately for a transition three.
Swish!
Up and in.
Two threes.
Six straight points for the Suns.
"Such quick recovery on defense!"
"Rondo saw it, but he could only stop Nash's drive—there was no way he could rotate to Curry in time."
Pierce brought the ball up himself. Carter guarded him. Rondo stepped up to screen. Once again, Pierce hunted the mismatch against Steve Nash, bullying past "Steve Nash-less" defense.
Bump. Bump.
Then a sudden burst.
He shook Nash, drove into the lane, spun past Frye's help defense, glanced at the rim, and lofted a soft floater.
It was practically a sure thing.
Then—
Thud!
From the wing, Blake Su exploded into the play. One powerful step, he launched skyward. With terrifying elevation, he reached the ball at its highest point—
Smack!
He tipped it away.
"How is that possible?!"
Pierce's pupils shrank in shock. He spun to recover the ball—
But a blur streaked past him.
By the time he looked again—
Blake Su was already in front, securing the ball and accelerating into transition.
Curry, Steve Nash, and Carter were off immediately as well. Four players sprinted full speed downcourt—an electrifying sight.
In the booth, Jon Barry froze.
That feeling… it seemed familiar.
On the court, the Suns were flying—but the Celtics were scrambling back just as fast. Ray Allen, Garnett, and Rondo retreated immediately. Pierce chased hard from behind, even if he couldn't match Blake Su's speed.
"The Celtics are back quickly! Curry, Steve Nash, and Carter are all covered up front—and the ball's in a center's hands. The Suns might not get this fast break."
"Yeah, they'll have to slow it down into half-court—"
Before the words finished, fans' eyes bulged.
Blake Su never slowed.
He pushed the ball coast to coast—one-man fast break. From a step inside the free-throw line, he took off like an eagle.
Boom!
A one-handed tomahawk slam.
One block.
One coast-to-coast dunk.
Defense into offense.
Blake Su ignited the entire US Airways Center by himself. The roar was deafening.
"That was insane!"
"Blake Su~~~!"
Some fans were already losing their minds—especially a group of young foreign girls, completely captivated, screaming hysterically at the dunk.
Clang!
Amid the roaring crowd, Ray Allen bricked an open three.
Curry grabbed the rebound. Everyone took off again. The Suns were running.
Whoosh!
Curry accelerated left, facing Pierce. Without slowing, he suddenly whipped a slick left-handed behind-the-back pass, threading it past Ray Allen.
Blake Su cut straight down the lane and caught it at the free-throw line.
Three steps.
He rose for the layup.
Garnett jumped to contest—
But Blake Su cradled the ball, gliding past him in midair.
Reverse off the glass from the left side.
Swish!
Good.
It sounded like a lot—but the entire sequence took just five or six seconds. Seamless. Fluid. Beautiful.
The arena, already boiling, erupted even louder. The atmosphere felt heavy, almost suffocating the Celtics.
Rondo took the inbound and sped up, mind racing, looking to organize a counterattack. He spotted Pierce calling for the ball on the opposite side.
He passed it over.
But as the ball traveled—
Curry suddenly darted in and slapped it away.
He dove forward and secured it. Rondo froze for half a beat, then gave chase.
Curry got there first. As Rondo closed in to trap him, Curry snapped a quick cross-court pass to the right wing.
Who was it for?
Rondo whipped his head around.
At the right arc—
Blake Su.
Catch.
Rise.
Three.
The ball arced high through the air, tracing a beautiful curve—
Swish!
Nothing but net.
"Wow—the Suns' transition offense is just so smooth. And so fast!"
Mark Jackson marveled.
Jon Barry suddenly jolted upright and shouted—
"I remember now—this… this is run-and-gun! This is the Suns' run-and-gun!"
...
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