Kapitel 245: No Regrets.
Before the Western Conference Finals tipped off, the league announced the season's All-NBA teams.
Although Han Sen didn't win Defensive Player of the Year (DPOY), he earned a spot on both the All-NBA First Team and All-Defensive First Team for the first time in his career.
It was clear why the media handed the DPOY award to Joakim Noah—Han was dangerously close to sweeping all the major accolades this season.
The next day, Game 1 of the Western Conference Finals kicked off in San Antonio.
After four hard-fought quarters, the Spurs secured a 122-113 victory over the Grizzlies.
Tim Duncan led the charge with 27 points, 7 rebounds, and 3 assists, while Kawhi Leonard contributed 21 points. The Spurs had five players in double figures and dished out an impressive 28 assists as a team.
Han Sen's valiant effort of 36 points went to waste.
The outcome was unexpected. After all, the Grizzlies boasted the 'Spurs Killer' in Han Sen, who had led his team to a dominant series win against San Antonio in last year's Western Conference Finals.
After Game 1, Han Sen didn't head straight to rest. Instead, he went to the film room after finishing the press conference.
He replayed footage from the Spurs' first-round series against the Mavericks. Although he had already analyzed the tapes before the Conference Finals began, watching them again with fresh eyes revealed new insights.
Not long after, Coach Dave Joerger joined him, holding a copy of the game stats in hand.
Seeing Han in the room didn't surprise Joerger. He quietly sat beside him and spoke after a moment, handing over the sheet.
"They shot better from outside than they did in the regular season."
Han didn't have LeBron's habit of checking stats mid-game, so this was his first look at the numbers.
The Spurs had gone 9-of-17 from three-point range. While their volume wasn't as high as the Warriors, their efficiency was jaw-dropping.
Gregg Popovich, famously critical of three-point shooting, had once remarked that the overuse of long-range shots turned basketball into a glorified shooting contest. He even joked that introducing a four-point line would ruin the game completely.
On this rare occasion, Han Sen agreed with Popovich.
But the evolution of basketball wasn't something one person could stop. As the league pushed for higher ratings and prioritized offense, the role of traditional big men diminished, and the three-point shot became the league's calling card.
While Popovich publicly lamented the trend, he had adapted. The Spurs now boasted the league's best three-point shooting percentage during the regular season and were shooting even better in the playoffs.
This wasn't a sudden evolution but a refinement of their famed 'Hammer Set.'
Previously, their offense relied on Duncan anchoring the paint, shooters spacing the corners, and Parker running pick-and-rolls at the top.
Now, with the Hammer Set, the ball moved more fluidly, with Danny Green and Kawhi Leonard running off screens to exploit defensive mismatches.
In essence, their three-point success wasn't due to volume but to high-quality, uncontested looks—'smart' threes born from precision teamwork.
This tactical shift brought their style closer to the 'Princeton Offense,' emphasizing synchronized movement and ball-sharing. Only a team like the Spurs, whose core had been together for over a decade, could execute it so flawlessly.
From the Warriors to the Rockets, and now the Spurs, the Grizzlies' Achilles' heel had been exposed—defending the three-point line.
But it wasn't just the Spurs' perimeter shooting. This season, they had embraced a faster pace, incorporating transition threes—an uncharacteristic but deadly addition for such a disciplined team.
This faster tempo directly challenged the Grizzlies' traditional 'Grit and Grind' identity and their reliance on twin towers in the paint.
The Spurs hadn't changed their roster much, but their transformation in playstyle made them feel like an entirely different team.
Popovich's Coach of the Year win this season was well-deserved.
"They're better than the Miami Heat," Joerger concluded after reviewing the tape, suggesting that if the Spurs made the Finals, they'd take down Miami for the championship.
Han didn't argue, silently agreeing.
This wasn't just because he knew the Spurs were destined to win in his 'previous' timeline, but their balance of elite offense and defense made them formidable.
Unlike Miami, whose acquisition of Kevin Durant bolstered their scoring but weakened their defense, the Spurs were the complete package.
"This isn't an era of 'defense wins championships.' It's about 'balance wins championships.'"
Joerger nodded in agreement, though the words seemed to weigh heavily on him.
...
After leaving the film room, Han invited Zach Randolph over to his place for dinner.
Randolph didn't hesitate to accept. Unlike Rudy Gay, Randolph had come to terms with Han's role as the team's 'villain' after the trade deadline, even understanding why Han had to play that part.
Once at Han's house, he asked his personal chef to prepare some Chinese barbecue.
Since Han's restaurant hadn't been drawing many customers, he had already told Chris to shut it down and bring the chef to his home. After all, Han planned to leave Memphis in the summer, and he figured it was better to wrap things up early before everyone moved on.
"I'm leaving this summer," Han said abruptly.
Randolph, busy savoring the food, froze mid-bite.
"Leaving? Leaving where?"
"Memphis. The Grizzlies," Han replied, his tone calm but firm.
"You're joking, right?" Randolph set down his skewer, staring at Han in disbelief.
But Han's serious expression told him otherwise.
"Did they force you out? Tell me who, and I'll handle it!" Randolph slammed the table, ready to storm out.
"No one forces me to do anything in Memphis, Zach. You know that," Han said, motioning for him to sit. "This has been my decision since before I signed my contract last summer."
"Why?" Randolph's confusion only deepened.
"It's simple. Either I go, or you all do."
The weight of those words hit Randolph hard. He'd been in Memphis longer than Han and understood the organization's stinginess better than anyone. For them to suddenly pay over $40 million in luxury tax this season? It didn't add up unless there was a catch—and now he realized Han leaving was part of the deal.
Randolph couldn't argue. Even Michael Jordan, as dominant as he was, couldn't dictate management's decisions. The infamous feud between Jordan and the Bulls' front office was proof of that. Unless you were LeBron James, whose influence extended beyond the court, players couldn't control such things.
If Han hadn't made his intentions clear last summer, the midseason trade involving the Pacers would have undoubtedly gone through.
"If you'd already decided, why didn't you tell us earlier?" Randolph asked.
"I didn't want you all overthinking it. But now, with the way things stand, this might be our last playoff run together. I thought you should know," Han explained.
"No. This won't be the last," Randolph said, standing up suddenly. "I won't let you leave with regrets!"
Randolph's voice carried a conviction that silenced any doubts. With anyone else, he might've felt betrayed. But Han wasn't just anyone. Han had sacrificed everything—his shots, his stats, his reputation—to ensure the team's success.
Randolph was determined. Han wouldn't leave Memphis with unfinished business. Not on his watch.
...
The next day's practice was intense. Han didn't need to say much; Randolph's words had already ignited a fire in the team. Every player dove for loose balls, locked in defensively, and pushed harder than ever.
Randolph had shared Han's decision with the team, and it became an unspoken pact among the Grizzlies' veterans—they wouldn't tell the coaches or let the news leak. They'd show their resolve on the court instead.
Han saw the shift in his teammates and knew he had made the right call.
The loss in Game 1 against the Spurs wasn't just about tactics or execution. It boiled down to one critical factor: desire.
Tim Duncan, at 38, had dropped 27 points, 7 rebounds, and 3 assists in Game 1—a testament to how badly the Spurs wanted it.
San Antonio, beaten by Memphis too many times in recent years, refused to roll over again. This season's tactical adjustments had given them a fighting chance, and their hunger was at an all-time high.
The Grizzlies, despite regaining rhythm in earlier rounds, lacked that same drive against a title-contending Spurs team.
Han understood there was only one way to match San Antonio's hunger: make his teammates believe this was their 'last dance.'
Coach Dave Joerger was visibly puzzled during the session.
"Dave," Han said during a break, "I told you, we're the stronger team."
Joerger chuckled, still unsure of what had changed but confident Han had something to do with it.
Still, adjustments were needed.
The Spurs' bench depth was elite. Nine players averaged 8+ points during the regular season, and eight continued to do so in the playoffs. To counter this, Joerger needed someone to lead the second unit.
"I'll do it."
The voice was familiar. Rudy Gay, recalling his Finals sacrifice from the previous season, volunteered without hesitation—a gesture likely tied to a private conversation with Han.
Hearing Rudy's resolve, Han knew last year's Grizzlies had returned.
...
Game 2: The Shift
The AT&T Center in San Antonio was packed to capacity, the atmosphere electric.
After being eliminated by Memphis twice in the past three years—earning Han the ironic nickname 'Mayor of San Antonio'—the Spurs had revenge on their minds.
Game 1 had already shown a shift in power. The narrative of revenge, combined with Duncan's looming retirement, made this matchup an NBA Playoff classic.
If the Grizzlies lost Game 2, their dynasty might end here.
Shaquille O'Neal summed it up bluntly during pregame analysis: "Three-peats are harder than anyone realizes. Trust me." He managed to slide in a self-congratulatory nod to his own greatness in the process.
When the game tipped off, though, everyone was left stunned.
Joerger made a bold move, benching Shane Battier in favor of Vince Carter while shifting Gay to the second unit.
The Grizzlies played with a defensive intensity unseen all season. Their rotations were sharp, their coverage precise, leaving the Spurs' ball movement stifled. Even Randolph, not known for his speed, was perfectly timing his help defense.
When the Spurs were forced out of their motion offense and into isolations, the tide shifted.
Memphis, on the other hand, looked like their vintage selves: Han's drive-and-kick game, the high-low action in the post, and perfectly timed pick-and-rolls on the weak side. The team was back.
The result?
The Grizzlies routed the Spurs 114–93 on their home floor, handing San Antonio its first 20-point playoff loss in years.
Memphis forced a jaw-dropping 22 turnovers while committing only seven themselves. Those turnovers led to a 15-point differential in fast-break points alone.
Offensively, San Antonio's vaunted depth crumbled. Only the 'Big Three' of Duncan, Parker, and Ginobili reached double figures.
Kawhi Leonard, so dominant in Game 1, was held to a mere 6 points on 1-of-5 shooting, with 4 turnovers against Han Sen's defense.
The Grizzlies didn't just even the series and steal homecourt advantage—they reclaimed momentum.
----
Best Defensive Team:
1st Team: Chris Paul, Han Sen, Paul George, Serge Ibaka, Joakim Noah
2nd Team: Patrick Beverley, Tony Allen, Jimmy Butler, Kawhi Leonard, Tim Duncan
All-NBA Teams:
1st Team: James Harden, Han Sen, LeBron James, Kevin Durant, Joakim Noah
2nd Team: Chris Paul, Stephen Curry, Kobe Bryant, Carmelo Anthony, Dwight Howard
3rd Team: Russell Westbrook, Tony Parker, Paul George, Kevin Love, LaMarcus Aldridge
-End of Chapter-
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein