Chapter 373: In Full Bloom
Today, the Kings hosted the Orlando Magic at home.
During pregame warm-ups, the original starting point guard, Dejounte Murray, felt some discomfort in his left knee and was urgently pulled by Malone for a hospital check. Durant, meanwhile, was on a routine rest day.
As a result, the Kings’ starting lineup for this game was: Rose, Booker, Butler, Siakam, and Jokić.
Compared to their previous star-studded lineup that practically overflowed with big names, this group looked far less flashy.
But that was only on the surface. Chen Yilun and Malone knew very well that even this lineup alone was more than capable of going toe to toe with any top-tier team in the league.
“Rose.”
Rose, warming up on the sideline, turned when he heard Booker call out and saw him walking over.
“When the game starts, take a few shots first. You’re the veteran—help steady things for us.”
“Alright.”
Rose nodded quietly.
That was just how he was—he rarely showed much expression.
At the opening tip, Jokić won possession. Booker caught the ball, scanned the floor, then handed it to Rose before cutting to the forty-five-degree angle to clear space.
Rose brought the ball across half court at a measured pace. After reading the situation, he motioned to Siakam.
Siakam immediately got the message and stepped up to set the screen.
After two years of refinement, Siakam had become one of the league’s best off-ball screeners.
Harris, guarding Rose, felt as if he’d slammed straight into a solid wall of muscle—completely stuck in place.
Seeing the opening, Rose took one lateral dribble to create space and rose up to shoot.
Swish!
The three went straight through.
“Great shot!”
Siakam roared as he turned and sprinted back on defense.
It was only the opening basket, so no one thought much of it.
Only Rose, jogging back, glanced at his right hand with faint confusion.
Something felt… off.
He couldn’t quite say what, but his touch just felt unusually good today.
On the next possession, the Magic’s new franchise star, Markkanen, missed a one-on-one attempt inside.
As Jokić secured the rebound and looked upcourt, he suddenly saw Rose streaking toward the frontcourt like a bolt of purple lightning, glancing back as he ran.
Jokić instantly understood and fired a quarterback-style long pass ahead.
Rose caught it in stride, barely slowing as he accelerated toward the basket.
Fournier had already recovered and planted himself under the rim, ready to cut off Rose’s path.
Normally, the smarter play would have been to keep driving, draw the defense, and kick it out. Booker was just two steps away from spotting up, completely unguarded.
But in that moment, Rose seemed to see nothing but the rim.
Facing Fournier, he took three long strides, rose into the air, stretched out mid-flight, switched hands, and softly laid the ball in.
After just those two possessions, even casual observers sensed something unusual.
“Coach,”
Ham muttered, sucking in a breath.
“Something feels off. Rose looks… different today.”
It wasn’t just Ham. Malone, watching closely from the sideline, also frowned slightly.
Since joining the Kings, Rose had been calm to the point of being almost Zen—take open shots, organize the offense, rarely force anything himself.
But a Rose this aggressive, this explosive, was something Malone had never seen before.
“You take it, you take it!”
After a few possessions, Rose noticed his teammates starting to find their rhythm and instinctively tried to defer.
But the ball he passed out came right back to him from Booker.
“Huh?”
Rose looked down at the ball in his hands, momentarily puzzled.
Then he looked up and met Booker’s encouraging gaze—and everything clicked.
Taking a deep breath, Rose dribbled hard on the perimeter, exploded to create separation, then stepped back and launched a three.
Clang!
The ball bounced twice off the back rim before dropping through.
Three shots, eight points.
“He’s got something going,”
Gay said from the bench, squinting at Rose’s back.
“He’s in the zone.”
In basketball, there’s a widely shared belief that players can sometimes enter “the zone.” In that state, adrenaline surges, distractions are selectively shut out, and a player’s level can jump several tiers almost instantly.
Rose had entered that state.
And so the rest of the Kings were more than happy to keep feeding him.
As the game went on, even fans who didn’t really understand basketball began to notice Rose’s performance.
“How many points does he have now?”
one fan asked after watching Rose slash to the rim and score again.
“Eighteen,”
his friend replied, checking the stats on his phone.
“The second quarter isn’t even over yet. He might go for a career night.”
“What’s Rose’s career high again?”
“Hang on, let me check.”
After looking it up, the friend lifted his head with a strange expression.
“Forty-two.”
At that point, no one really believed Rose could break his own record. That version of Rose felt like something from a distant past.
But as the game continued, a rare hush fell over the arena.
Rose already had thirty-five points.
With an entire quarter still left, that record suddenly didn’t seem so far away.
When Rose stepped onto the floor to start the fourth, the entire crowd held its breath, silently willing him on.
Rose caught a pass from Jokić beyond the arc and released it in one smooth motion.
Thirty-eight points.
Fans stood up, hands covering their mouths. Just four more—was this really happening?
Moments later, Rose finished a fast-break layup.
Forty points.
Chants of “Give it to Rose!” echoed throughout the arena.
When Booker found himself wide open and took a shot, the crowd actually groaned.
“Feed him!”
During the timeout, Malone didn’t even bother with the clipboard. He pointed at Rose, teeth clenched.
“Give it to Rose! Everyone create chances for him! Get him into the paint and let him score!”
Butler stood off to the side without saying a word, but the surging emotion in his eyes betrayed the storm inside him.
After finishing his instructions, Malone looked straight at Rose.
“Play it out,” he said firmly.
“Tonight belongs to you. I don’t know if you’ll ever get another chance like this—but since it’s here, don’t let it slip away.”
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