In the stands, Anthony didn't seem impressed.
"So what if Blake's playing well? Look at the score. The Heat are only down by one. That's basically nothing."
"Exactly."
Paul nodded. "To be fair, Blake has played extremely well throughout this entire series. You could even call his performance flawless.
"But the Heat are the ones winning.
"At this point, it feels like a dead end for Phoenix. Blake will probably play great again tonight, but the Heat will still win and take match point."
"Exactly."
Anthony nodded in agreement.
And on the court, things seemed to be unfolding exactly as Paul expected.
By the end of the first quarter, Blake had scored 15 points on 6-of-8 shooting and 3-of-4 from the free-throw line.
He had shot 75 percent from the field.
His efficiency was incredible.
For Miami, Bosh had 4 points, Wade had 6, and LeBron had 7.
Not one member of the Heat Big Three had even reached half of Blake's scoring total.
And yet...
The Heat still led by three.
The second quarter began with the reserves on the floor.
Wade, who had played only ten minutes in the first quarter, came right back in to lead Miami's second unit.
Matched up against the current version of Vince Carter, Wade had a clear advantage.
Over the next three minutes, Miami stretched the lead to six.
"Beep! Beep!"
Gentry called timeout and brought Blake and George back earlier than planned.
Miami responded by sending Bosh back onto the floor as well.
"Swish!"
"Swish!"
"Swish!"
Blake continued attacking the basket again and again, maintaining his astonishing efficiency and scoring repeatedly to keep pressure on the Heat.
But that pressure gradually faded after Coach Spoelstra called timeout and brought all three members of the Heat Big Three back onto the floor.
By halftime, Miami carried a seven-point lead into the locker room.
Seven points wasn't a huge margin.
But the Suns had spent almost the entire half playing from behind, and the mood on their side was far from good.
Especially because Blake had spent the entire night relentlessly attacking the basket, scoring efficiently over and over again, yet Phoenix still couldn't close the gap.
That was a serious blow to the team.
Curry and George wanted to step up.
But this was the Finals, and they were facing the Heat Big Three at the height of their powers.
They wanted to help Blake.
They simply couldn't do enough.
After halftime, the same pattern continued.
Blake remained brilliant.
He was still the best player on the floor.
Curry and George were playing solid basketball as well, with very few mistakes.
But neither of them broke out.
On Miami's side, the Heat Big Three were also playing within themselves.
But they were stars, even superstars.
Even an ordinary performance from them was far beyond what George, Curry, or the aging Nash and Carter could consistently produce.
As the two teams traded baskets, Miami remained in control.
By the end of the third quarter, the Suns were down by 12.
And that was with Blake already sitting on 40 points.
During the break between quarters, Van Gundy turned to Mike Breen.
"Is Blake playing well? Is he forcing things too much?"
Mike Breen shook his head. "Blake's playing extremely well, and he isn't being selfish. He's doing everything you could ask from the leader of a team."
"Then how does someone score 40 points through three quarters of a Finals game and still find his team down by 12?"
Van Gundy sounded genuinely puzzled.
Mike Breen sighed and shook his head slightly.
"That's simply the difference in overall strength between these teams.
"The Suns are still too young.
"Outside of Blake, they can't stop the Heat Big Three from scoring.
"And because all three of Miami's stars can impact the game on both ends, they're also able to shut down Curry and Nash offensively.
"So even when Blake is playing exceptionally well, and even though the Heat Big Three still don't have perfect chemistry together, the difference in talent and overall ability is enough for Miami to build an advantage almost without anyone noticing."
Van Gundy sighed as well.
"To be honest, it's hard not to feel for Blake.
"This 'Monster Rookie' is giving everything he has."
"Yeah."
Mike Breen slowly turned his gaze toward the Suns' bench, where Blake sat trying to catch his breath.
Drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, Blake looked completely exhausted.
It was difficult not to feel for him.
After all, no matter how good Blake was, he was still a rookie.
He was only 19 years old.
And here he was on the Finals stage, facing the already famous Heat Big Three almost by himself.
He was carrying an enormous burden.
In the stands, even some Heat fans were beginning to acknowledge it.
"Man, I'm a Heat fan, but watching Blake work this hard... I don't know why, but I actually feel bad for him."
"There can only be one winner, and I still think that'll be Miami. But that 'Monster Rookie' has given everything he has and never quit.
"Blake's performance has been flawless. He deserves respect."
"Yeah. It's hard not to feel for him."
Those comments were coming from Heat fans.
Blake's extraordinary individual performance had earned the respect of the opposing crowd.
But Suns fans weren't ready to accept consolation just yet.
"There's still one quarter left. We still have a chance!"
"It's only 12 points! That's not impossible to come back from. The Suns can still turn this around!"
"Come on, Blake!"
"Let's go, Suns!"
On the road, Suns fans screamed themselves hoarse, cheering as loudly as they possibly could.
All they wanted was a win.
...
On the Suns' bench, Blake spoke first.
"Don't give up!"
"We won't!"
The rest of the team answered together.
Soon, the fourth quarter began.
"Step!"
Blake rose from the bench and went straight back onto the court.
No rest.
There was no time left for him to rest.
Blake immediately returned to the floor and went straight at "Flash" Wade.
"Whoosh!"
From the left wing, Blake exploded forward with one quick step and reached the right side of the free-throw line.
"Screech!"
He suddenly stopped, rose straight up, and fired a jumper over Wade.
"Step!"
Wade gave everything he had to contest.
His leap was explosive and his athleticism excellent.
But the difference in height between them was simply too great.
His contest had no effect.
"Swish!"
Blake buried the mid-range jumper.
On the other end...
"Thump, thump, thump!"
Wade controlled the ball at the top of the key with Blake guarding him.
Was he really going to attack Blake head-on?
Yes.
"Whoosh!"
Wade gave a shot fake, then suddenly exploded to his left.
His lightning-fast first step instantly gave him half a body length on Blake.
"Whoosh!"
He kept accelerating and drove straight toward the rim.
But Blake stayed right behind him.
As Wade went up for the layup and released the ball off the upper portion of the backboard, it spun toward the rim.
Just as it was about to drop...
"Smack!"
Blake slammed the ball against the backboard with one hand.
Wade had beaten him by half a step, but Blake's athleticism was no worse than Wade's, and his overwhelming advantage in height and wingspan made up the difference.
Blake had chased down "Flash" Wade from behind and pinned his shot against the glass for a clean block.