Chapter 392: The Blue vs. Purple Showdown (1)
“Here we go.”
Under the cover of night, Golden One Arena glowed with a faint purple hue. From a distance, it looked like a massive purple beast crouched low, lying in wait for its prey.
“The media really has no bottom line anymore,”
Chen Yilun said, casually tossing a newspaper onto the table.
Splashed across the bold front-page headline were the words:
“The Blue vs. Purple Showdown! Sacramento vs. Oakland—A Clash of Destiny!”
Earlier, some deliberately provocative outlets had tried to brand the matchup as the “Purple-and-Gold Showdown,” based on the teams’ home and away jersey colors. They were immediately drowned in backlash from fans on both sides.
Still, this year’s series had expectations through the roof.
A head-on collision between the team that pioneered the small-ball era and the team that perfected it—and possibly the final time these two rosters would ever meet. Because of that, even though it was only the second round, ticket prices had already been driven to absurd heights.
“Tonight, we stick to the same old formula,”
Kerr said in the visitors’ locker room, holding up a whiteboard crammed with diagrams as he spoke methodically to his players.
“We can’t cover everything, so we target Jokić’s mobility. We go blow-for-blow on offense.”
As he spoke, Kerr glanced at Curry, seated in the front row.
“Stephen, I’ve broken down their new starting point guard, Dejounte Murray.
The kid’s like a young hyena without its fangs yet. A lot of his defense is based on gambling. So on offense, bait him however you can—draw him into reaching for steals.”
“Once he does, their perimeter defense collapses on its own.”
Curry nodded firmly.
“Don’t worry, Coach. I know exactly what to do.”
Out on the court, the Warriors’ current starting center Whiteside won the opening tip over Jokić, giving Golden State first possession.
Curry took the pass and calmly brought the ball across half court.
Facing the league’s premier perimeter scorer, Murray showed no fear at all, his eyes burning with competitive fire.
Seeing Murray itching to make a play, Curry dribbled with his left hand while signaling a set with his right.
Golden State’s first “armed guard,” Green, immediately understood and stepped up to set the screen.
The instant Green moved, Murray caught it out of the corner of his eye and adjusted his footwork, preparing to fight over the pick.
But before he could react, Curry suddenly slapped the ball and burst hard in the opposite direction.
A fake screen.
Murray instantly realized what had happened and scrambled to recover. As he turned, he clearly saw Curry’s dribbling hand tilt at an awkward angle.
Anyone who’s played basketball knows that usually means the ball slipped off rhythm.
Even though it made no sense for a player of Curry’s level to make that kind of mistake, Murray didn’t hesitate—he reached straight in to strip the ball.
First possession of the series. If he could cleanly pick Curry right here, how satisfying would that be?
For a split second, Murray had already pictured his celebration.
But just as his hand came within inches of the ball, it suddenly changed direction, snapping back into Curry’s control as if by magic.
“Got you!”
Curry laughed, then spun effortlessly, leaving Murray completely behind.
“Help!”
Murray shouted.
He’d barely recovered his stance, and the reach had shifted his weight too far forward. There was no chance he could chase now—he could only call out.
Jokić, rotating over from the weak side, had no choice but to slide laterally to cut off Curry’s path.
But Curry didn’t attack him.
Instead, he lofted the ball high into the air.
Whiteside, who had been checked by Jokić, had already exploded toward the rim, taking off almost from the baseline. He caught the pass in midair, twisted his body, and threw down a powerful reverse dunk on the far side of the basket.
“Roar!”
The Warriors’ bench erupted instantly.
At the very end of the bench, Ding Yanyuhang waved his towel, about to celebrate—then suddenly felt a chill down his back.
He turned and saw Chen Yilun staring at him from across the arena, wearing an expression that clearly said you’re dead later.
“Heh…”
Ding gave an awkward laugh and quietly sat back down before anyone noticed.
Chen Yilun’s pettiness was legendary. Better not test his limits.
“The kid’s rushing things,”
Gay said, sitting on the bench with Cousins, casually commenting on the play.
“Trying to make a statement against Curry already? What’s he thinking?”
As time passed, Gay had gradually stopped playing altogether, fully embracing his role as the locker room’s resident elder. His favorite pastime was strolling around with his hands behind his back, ordering the younger guys around.
Cousins knew full well that Gay hadn’t even warmed up tonight—he wasn’t wearing a jersey under his warmups at all. He’d clearly decided to sit this one out.
And the younger players didn’t mind being pushed around by him in the slightest. After all, in North American basketball culture, veterans giving rookies a hard time was tradition.
Someone like Gay, who only made them run errands or carry bags, was practically a saint.
Cousins looked at Gay and smiled honestly.
“Nothing wrong with young guys having some fire.”
Gay laughed and glanced at him.
After two years away, this big guy had taken his share of lumps. Now that he was back home, he’d finally settled down.
Everything felt right.
With that thought, Gay stretched comfortably.
This was the life he’d always wanted.
As Gay and Cousins chatted, possession flipped. Murray brought the ball over half court and calmly fed it inside.
Jokić caught the pass and glanced at his position—deep in the paint.
Without hesitation, he went straight into a post-up on Whiteside.
Whiteside’s defensive numbers looked great on paper, but Jokić knew the truth. All flash, no substance.
After backing him down twice, Jokić spun and rose as if for a fadeaway.
Whiteside bit immediately, jumping to contest.
Only once he was in the air did he realize—
Jokić hadn’t left the ground at all.
“Got you.”
Jokić repeated Curry’s words with a grin, then laid the ball in easily.
After scoring, he tilted his chin toward Curry in open provocation.
You mess with my rookie, I’ll mess with your big dummy.
Whiteside was still processing what had happened when Green’s furious shout exploded beside him.
“What are you standing there for? Get ready for the next possession!”
After several trips up and down the floor, both teams’ shooting percentages stayed sky-high. Possessions were changing hands at a blistering pace.
“What are they trying to do?”
Malone muttered from the sideline, chewing on his thumb.
“Are they inviting us into a full-on run-and-gun?”
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.