"Beep—beep!"
Phil Jackson called a timeout.
Curry's turnover was devastating for the Suns, but for the Lakers it was an unexpected gift. A timeout would steady things.
Victory was already within reach.
"We've got this."
On the bench, Pau Gasol leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath, looking completely relaxed as he waited for the timeout to end and the final 3.8 seconds to tick away.
"Mm."
Kobe's slightly furrowed brow finally relaxed as well. He knew the game was essentially won.
Still… the perfectionist in him couldn't help feeling bothered by that earlier missed jumper. After tonight, he would definitely punish himself with extra practice.
It wasn't just the two of them—the entire Lakers squad sat with the calm confidence of winners, simply waiting for the clock to run out.
Meanwhile, on the Suns bench.
Curry sat down with his head lowered, clearly in a bad mood.
Nash walked over, sat beside him, and said with a gentle smile,
"It's okay.
Who doesn't make mistakes?
It's just one game. And… losing to the defending champions isn't anything to be ashamed of. You played very well tonight. If it weren't for you and Blake Su,
we might've lost a long time ago."
Even with Nash's reassurance, Curry still felt deeply guilty. But he nodded lightly, unwilling to let his negative emotions spread to his teammates.
Beside them, Blake Su simply watched quietly without saying anything. Compared to him, Nash was better suited to offer comfort.
At this point, Alvin Gentry—who had been tense and on edge the whole game—finally relaxed after accepting the likely loss.
"Heh."
He chuckled and said,
"Guys, it's fine. There are wins and losses in every game. We've already won 16 straight—far better than anyone expected.
Tonight,
win or lose, you were all fantastic.
But there are still 3.8 seconds left, so we'll run the proper strategy. Whoever on the Lakers receives the ball, foul immediately!
Send them to the free-throw line, and we'll still have around three seconds to run one last attack.
Of course…
that's under normal circumstances. We don't have any timeouts left now, and three seconds isn't really enough to run a full-court play.
So… don't put pressure on yourselves.
Just play normally."
Gentry finished laying out the plan.
In short, without another timeout, a miracle was almost impossible.
"Beep—beep!"
Timeout over.
The final 3.8 seconds—seemingly just a formality—began.
Gasol inbounded the ball from the sideline near midcourt.
The Suns played tight man-to-man defense, following the coach's instruction: whoever caught the ball would be fouled immediately.
Of course,
they tried their best to prevent Kobe—an excellent passer—from receiving the inbound.
Gasol stood calmly at the sideline with the ball in his hands.
As long as he got the ball to a teammate—even if the ball was simply thrown high into the air—the game would be over.
"Whoosh!"
The first pass went toward Kobe.
Seeing Carter closing in, Kobe hesitated for a split second before swinging the ball toward Artest instead.
But…
that tiny moment of hesitation changed everything.
As the ball flew toward Artest—
just as he was about to catch it—
Blake Su, who had been boxed out by Artest, spotted the opening.
"Step!"
He pulled back half a step to slip free, then suddenly lunged forward.
[Eagle Spear] struck—fast, precise, and ruthless.
He poked the ball away before Artest could secure it, their bodies colliding in the process.
"Scrape!"
The deflection sent both the ball and Blake Su flying.
Blake Su lost his balance and nearly crashed to the floor, but just before falling, he braced his left hand against the ground and quickly stabilized himself mid-motion.
Artest, after the collision, spun halfway around and nearly fell as well. But he reacted quickly, planting both hands on the floor to steady himself.
All of this—
though described in many words—
happened in a flash.
Blake Su had tipped the ball free.
"Steal?!"
"My goodness—Blake Su stole the ball from Artest!!!"
Inside the ESPN broadcast booth, Mike Breen's eyes widened as he shouted.
Yes.
Blake Su stole the ball from Artest—and grabbed it before Artest could recover.
Blake Su in front.
Artest chasing behind.
The two sprinted wildly toward the frontcourt.
And the clock was racing down.
3.8 seconds.
3.1 seconds.
...
"Whoa!!!"
The arena exploded.
As Blake Su and Artest sprinted at full speed toward the basket, the entire arena rose to its feet.
Lakers fans clenched their fists, eyes locked on Blake Su.
They hoped he wouldn't make it in time.
They hoped Artest could catch him at the rim.
Meanwhile, Suns fans raised both arms high, faces filled with excitement, already preparing to celebrate—ready to unleash the loudest cheers for Blake Su.
"AHHHHH!!!"
Artest roared as he sprinted with his head down.
He didn't know if there was enough time.
But he knew one thing—
he had to stop Blake Su.
Blake Su, meanwhile, wasn't just racing Artest.
He was racing the clock.
Sprinting at full speed, he unleashed every bit of the explosive quickness granted by Iverson's Talent.
3.8 seconds — steal.
2.6 seconds — reaches the right side of the three-point arc.
1.6 seconds — enters the paint and takes off for the layup.
With 0.7 seconds left, he flicked the ball up toward the basket.
The instant the ball left Blake Su's fingertips—
everyone held their breath.
Only the red light of the game clock flashed as time expired.
Then—
"Bang!"
"Thud!"
"Swish!"
The first sound was the ball striking the backboard.
The second was Artest flying in for the block but failing, his palm slapping against the glass.
The third—
was the crisp swish of the ball dropping through the net.
The red light was on.
The shot counted.
Basket!
With the final 3.8 seconds, Blake Su stole the ball from Artest, outran the clock, and finished with a layup—
a game-winning buzzer-beater against the Los Angeles Lakers.
Against the defending champions!
Buzz—
The arena fell silent for a brief moment.
Then, the instant Blake Su completed the game-winner, countless fans threw their arms into the air, jumping wildly and shouting in celebration.
"Game-winner!"
"Unbelievable! Blake Su with the steal and the buzzer-beater!"
"The Suns won!"
"Amazing!"
"Oh my god! The Suns beat the Lakers at the buzzer!!!"
Boom!
Cheers, gasps, screams, and excited chatter erupted all at once.
Blake Su's steal with [Eagle Spear], followed by the race against time and the game-winning layup, felt like a bomb detonating in the depths of the ocean.
It sent monstrous waves crashing upward, as if the roaring energy might tear the roof off the arena.
The thunderous cheers of victory echoed throughout the entire stadium—
and spread far beyond,
until it felt as if the entire city of Phoenix was reverberating with the sound.
...
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