Chapter 222: The Ace Up His Sleeve (2)
Durant dribbled along the perimeter, constantly shifting his rhythm and footwork.
If this were the Pau Gasol of his prime, he might have had a chance to stop this play.
But now, Gasol was well into the twilight of his career.
After being pulled off balance several times by Durant’s movements, his footwork showed a barely noticeable hesitation—so subtle it would have escaped anyone else’s eye.
But Durant caught it instantly.
With a sudden crossover, Durant shook Gasol off and took a long stride forward.
Just one step—and he was already a full body length ahead.
So fast.
That was Gasol’s last thought before Durant sprinted in and finished with a smooth layup.
“Get back on defense!”
After beating Gasol one-on-one, Durant didn’t celebrate. He shouted the command, then immediately turned and sprinted back.
Watching Durant’s retreating figure, Curry’s expression darkened.
So the Kings were showing their trump card too.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Curry took the inbound pass and began organizing the next possession.
“Switch everything!”
Butler barked at the top of the key, directing his teammates’ positions, his eyes locked on Curry’s every move.
Sure enough, as soon as Curry set his feet,
Barnes moved up from the opposite side to set a screen for him.
But the moment Barnes stepped forward, Booker—who was guarding him—lunged and stuck to him like glue.
Gasol also moved up to help, but Durant followed closely behind, refusing to give an inch.
In an instant, half the players from both teams had crowded into the frontcourt.
The top of the key looked like a marketplace—chaotic and packed.
Amid the confusion, Curry couldn’t find a clean look. Out of habit, he swung the ball across to Klay on the strong side.
But anyone who’s played the game knows: a cross-court pass carries far more risk than a direct one—
especially in a scramble like this. One bad pass, and it’s a turnover waiting to happen.
Sure enough—
the moment Curry made the pass, CJ, who had been tied up with Klay, suddenly faked one way and slipped free.
With a lightning-quick first step, he slid laterally right into the passing lane.
Smack!
A crisp sound rang out as the ball was slapped from the air like a falling bird.
“Nice steal!”
Catching the ball’s trajectory from the corner of his eye, Butler roared and took off toward half-court.
“Take it!”
Seeing his teammates already breaking out, CJ didn’t hesitate. He launched a long quarterback-style pass downcourt.
CJ might not have had Jokić’s wizard-like passing, but his vision was still well above league average.
Butler managed to secure the pass mid-stride and charged straight for the rim.
Even with Barnes chasing at full speed, he couldn’t close the gap.
Boom!
Butler rose straight up and slammed the ball through the hoop with all his strength.
“Phew…”
He hung on the rim for a moment, steadying his landing before dropping down and exhaling heavily.
Then he glanced defiantly at the Warriors’ bench.
Don’t think the Sacramento Kings’ only ace is Durant. I’m not someone to take lightly either.
Steve Kerr stood on the sideline, his face a picture of despair.
“It’s over.”
He sank heavily into his chair.
Curry and Thompson had poured everything into the game, playing nearly the full forty-eight minutes—
and all they’d managed was to barely keep the score close.
Those last two possessions had shattered their morale completely.
Through them, Kerr finally understood.
Among all the star duos in the league, the Splash Brothers—Curry and Thompson—just couldn’t match the dual-forward power of Durant and Butler.
As that thought hit him, Kerr turned toward the stands.
Myers, dressed in a beige suit, sat watching with a dark expression as the Warriors’ decline became more and more obvious.
Their eyes met for several seconds. In that silence, Myers understood exactly what Kerr was saying.
They had to strengthen the roster this summer—no question.
Not the patchwork “minor upgrades” of last offseason.
This time, it needed to be an all-in, no-turning-back kind of move—
a desperate gamble.
This series had crushed the Warriors’ last illusions.
The two teams were no longer even in the same tier.
Oakland’s championship window was small enough as it was—they couldn’t wait around hoping Sacramento would implode on its own.
Myers gave Kerr a firm nod, then stood and left the arena without another word.
The ending went just as everyone expected.
Even after giving everything they had, the Warriors still couldn’t protect their home court.
When the final buzzer sounded, Curry stood frozen on the floor, staring up at the harsh, unforgiving numbers on the scoreboard.
So close.
They’d fought all game, only to fall short at the end.
“Why must both exist in the same era…”
Frustration filled Curry’s eyes.
“It’s alright.”
Steve Kerr walked up quietly, wrapping an arm around Curry’s shoulders.
“The road to the throne is always full of obstacles. Rest up—we’ll be back.”
By now, even Kerr had run out of inspirational lines to give.
Down 3–0, there was no realistic chance of a comeback.
...
On the other side, Chen Yilun didn’t join his players in celebration. Instead, he was focused on his phone, reading something intently.
“What’s got you so absorbed?”
Malone, who had just joined the on-court celebration and was still fixing his slightly disheveled clothes, walked over and asked.
“The draft lottery just wrapped up. The results are… interesting.”
Chen Yilun smiled, handing him the phone.
“It’s out already? Let me see.”
The mention of the draft immediately caught Malone’s attention—it was one of the biggest offseason events every year.
He took the phone, glanced at the top headline, and raised his eyebrows.
“Brooklyn got the first overall pick?”
After a second look, he realized what it meant, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
“That old fox Danny Ainge—his seeds have finally sprouted.”
Though the Nets had drawn the top pick, the rights to swap first-rounders were still owned by the Celtics from that old trade involving Boston’s veteran stars.
Who would’ve thought that even after all these years,
the classic “win the East, get the No.1 pick” routine would make a comeback?
“Brooklyn sure is generous,” Chen Yilun chuckled.
Last year they handed over the third pick, and now the first.
With just those two selections, the Celtics’ revival was already halfway complete.
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