Chapitre 227: Defeating the Strongest.
"DW is a respected opponent on the court. I hope he's okay and look forward to competing with him in Game 6."
After wrapping up the press conference, Han Sen immediately called Dwyane Wade. Wade's injury status was, of course, confidential, and Han didn't probe too much—just a friend checking in with another.
Game 6 at the American Airlines Arena
The arena was packed as usual, buzzing with anticipation. For the Memphis Grizzlies, it was a potential championship-clinching game. For the Miami Heat, it could be their final stand.
NBA Commissioner David Stern, his assistant Adam Silver, and league officials were all present to witness what could be a historic moment. Beyond the outcome, all eyes were on whether Wade would play.
During the pre-game warmups, Wade, dressed in his training gear, remained seated courtside, avoiding any warmup drills. The answer came during the opening ceremony: Wade was in the starting lineup for the Heat.
When Wade stepped onto the court, his knee heavily braced, the crowd erupted.
Pre-game speculation from ESPN suggested Wade might receive painkillers to play. However, Miami's CBS affiliate refuted the report, claiming Wade wouldn't risk his career. Evidently, CBS had been throwing up a smokescreen.
Before tip-off, Han Sen embraced Wade.
Wade was notorious for being submissive to his teammates, even yielding to the 'alpha' players. But when it came to himself, he was ruthless—two seemingly contradictory behaviors, both driven by the desire to win.
Even though he was playing through injections, Wade's playstyle relied heavily on explosive drives, and Han's defense significantly limited his offensive threat.
But that was just part of the story.
Wade's presence brought more than scoring—it was about morale.
The Heat rode that wave, with Kevin Durant coming out scorching hot. Fueled by Wade's determination, Durant's offense was unrelenting, finding ways to evade double teams or attack before Memphis's defense could set.
Grizzlies coach Dave Joerger rotated Shane Battier and Vince Carter onto Durant, but neither could contain him. The absence of Tony Allen, who had been traded away, became glaringly obvious.
With no better options, Joerger assigned Han Sen to defend Durant.
This adjustment allowed Wade to partner with Chris Bosh in pick-and-roll actions, with Bosh capitalizing on mid-range opportunities after the screen.
Fueled by Wade's emotional boost, Miami's offense roared to life. They scored 58 points in the first half, while Memphis struggled to keep up, managing just 45 points.
Halftime
As the Grizzlies returned to the locker room, a sense of unease hung in the air.
At this rate, the Heat had a great chance of forcing a Game 7. With Game 7 also in Miami, the championship hung precariously in the balance.
Dave Joerger entered with a clipboard in hand, his expression intense but calm. He scanned the room, his eyes locking on each player briefly before speaking.
"Listen up," he began, his voice even, but carrying a sharp edge that cut through the quiet. "I know what you're feeling right now. Frustration. Maybe even doubt. But I want you to stop and remember who the hell we are."
He paused, letting his words settle.
"We didn't claw our way here by folding when it got hard. We didn't survive the Spurs, the Thunder, or the Warriors because we had it easy. We're here because we outwork, outthink, and outlast. Every. Single. Time."
Joerger's voice rose, his intensity building. He slammed the clipboard down on a nearby table, the crack startling a few players.
"You think Miami is tougher than us? They're throwing everything they've got because they're desperate! Wade's out there risking his career because that's all they have left. But you? You've got each other. You've got grit. You've got the heart of a team that doesn't quit, no matter the odds."
He turned to Marc Gasol.
"Marc, I need you to own that paint. No second chances for them. If they come in soft, make them regret it."
Then to Mike Conley.
"Mike, I trust you to keep this offense moving. Don't let their pressure get in your head. You're the calm in the storm—act like it."
Finally, his gaze landed on Han Sen.
"Han," Joerger said, his tone shifting to something almost personal, "this is your moment. You've carried us through storms like this before, and we trust you to do it again. But remember—this is a team. Trust your brothers, and they'll trust you. Together, we win."
He stepped back, looking at the team as a whole.
"Gentlemen, this game isn't over. They think they've got it in the bag, but the second we hit that court, we remind them why they didn't want to face us in the first place. Go out there and play Memphis basketball—play for each other."
Joerger's voice softened as he delivered his final line:
"We're not just here to compete. We're here to finish this."
As he turned and walked out of the locker room, the tension in the air transformed. Players began to nod, exchanging looks of determination.
Han stood up slowly. The room quieted as all eyes turned to him.
He looked around, his gaze steady but sharp, and with a calm, almost eerie confidence, he said:
"You handle the defense. I'll handle the offense."
Few words, but they carried more weight than a thousand speeches.
...
The crowd's energy remained electric. Many Miami fans were optimistic about a Game 7—a comeback that would align with their pre-series predictions.
Memphis began the second half with possession.
Han posted up Wade, executed a quick face-up move, and nailed a mid-range jumper off a crossover. His expression remained eerily calm, mirroring his demeanor from Game 5, causing unease to ripple through the Miami crowd.
On defense, Memphis ramped up their intensity.
Durant was double-teamed aggressively before even catching the ball, forcing turnovers and rushed plays. The suffocating defense from Game 5 returned in full force.
Sensing the shift, Heat coach Erik Spoelstra ordered a double team on Han Sen.
Han quickly adjusted, running pick-and-rolls with Marc Gasol. Even when doubled, Han delivered a sharp bounce pass to Gasol, who finished with a thunderous dunk.
Unlike Game 5, Han wasn't shouldering the entire offense himself. Instead, he seamlessly integrated Memphis's hallmark team basketball.
On the Memphis bench, Robert Sacre and Shaun Livingston swung towels wildly, hyping up their teammates. The energy was infectious.
"Let's go, Heat!"
The crowd, sensing the tide turning, erupted in chants.
Durant responded with a hard drive, drawing a foul and sinking both free throws.
But on the next possession, Han posted up Wade again. Miami's defenders hesitated, caught between doubling Han or sticking to their assignments.
Han exploited the hesitation, spinning past Wade and sinking a fadeaway jumper despite a desperate contest.
Swish!
The sound of the net silenced the crowd.
It didn't matter how high the stakes or how tough the opposition—Han thrived in adversity. His composure rattled the Heat as much as his scoring.
Fans who had closely followed Han's career weren't surprised. Just as he had said during his tour in China, only by defeating the strongest opponents could one prove themselves capable of ruling an era.
Wade's grit in playing through injury inspired the Heat—and him as well.
However, unlike the first half, he made a strategic decision: conserving his energy for the offensive end.
Because their defense was consistently reactive, the only way to seize control was through relentless offense.
The Grizzlies' defensive intensity was climbing. With Han Sen shouldering the offensive load, the rest of the team focused entirely on defense.
Only by attacking effectively and defending resolutely could they close the gap.
The physicality on the court escalated sharply.
At this point, they had LeBron to thank. Without him, both teams could go head-to-head without holding back.
Conley seized a moment to strip the ball from Durant from behind.
The Grizzlies launched a fast break, with Han Sen receiving the ball and racing upcourt alongside Wade.
Wade put in a valiant defensive effort, but after Han Sen crossed into the frontcourt, he used a deceptive Eurostep to create contact and powered through with a single-handed dunk.
Under the lens, Han Sen's arm muscles bulged with intensity, the force behind his dunk undeniable.
The crowd erupted.
The aura emanating from Han Sen at that moment was awe-inspiring.
What he did next, however, stunned everyone even more.
Instead of celebrating, he walked over to the fallen Wade, extended a hand, and pulled him up.
Then, without a word, he turned and jogged back on defense.
In that moment, fans were reminded of what Han Sen had said after Game 5—how he genuinely hoped for Wade's return.
He didn't just want to win. He wanted to face and defeat his opponent at their strongest.
Realizing this made Han all the more fearsome in their eyes.
This wasn't just a sentiment felt by fans; the Heat players on the court sensed it too.
During their next offensive possession, they committed an unforced error. Bosh dribbled the ball off his foot and out of bounds.
It was clear that the morale boost from Wade's return had been forcibly suppressed by Han's dominance.
After breaking through a double team, Han Sen passed to Rudy Gay, who calmly drilled a three-pointer without hesitation.
56-60.
With Gay's three-pointer, the deficit was rapidly reduced to four points.
Spoelstra called for a timeout.
Coming out of the break, the Heat subbed in Ray Allen for Mario Chalmers to bolster their offense.
In response, Joerger pulled Gay aside and sent in Shane Battier.
The chess match resumed.
The game entered a deadlock that persisted into the final moments.
Midway through the stalemate, it became evident that the Heat's energy levels couldn't keep pace with the Grizzlies.
Yet, spurred on by the deafening cheers of their home crowd, they seemed to find new reserves of strength.
This was the clash of two juggernaut teams.
With 1:30 left on the clock, Randolph drew a foul on Bosh in the post and sank both free throws, cutting the Grizzlies' deficit to 104-105.
On the next possession, Durant drove hard, drew contact, and earned his trip to the free-throw line. He too made both shots.
Marc Gasol missed a mid-range jumper on the other end.
Durant tried a contested three over Gay but missed. Bosh grabbed the offensive rebound, but Gasol blocked his putback attempt.
Han Sen shook off Wade with a step-back three-pointer, tying the game at 107.
Spoelstra called for another timeout.
With 20 seconds remaining, Wade held the ball, running down the clock before passing it to Durant.
Durant had 10 seconds and a chance to clinch the game.
He drove toward the basket before the double-team could close in, aiming to draw contact with his signature sweeping motion—a tried-and-true scoring method.
But before he could bring the ball up, Conley struck.
Conley came from behind, cleanly stripping the ball out of Durant's hands.
The whistle didn't blow—the steal was as clean as ever.
With both teams in the penalty, the Heat couldn't afford to foul early.
Conley pushed the ball up the court, with only five seconds remaining.
Han Sen crossed midcourt, and Conley decisively passed him the ball.
The instant Han Sen caught the pass, the hearts of every fan in the arena leaped into their throats.
Wade lunged toward him, pressing hard, but Han Sen's feigned single-handed pass caused Wade to glance back. Seizing the moment, Han Sen pulled the ball back and crossed over, leaving Wade behind.
With time winding down and defenders converging on him, Han Sen came to a sudden stop, just inside the three-point line, and rose for a mid-range jumper.
To those watching, it was as if Han Sen had taken the shot surrounded by four defenders.
The ball arced over Bosh's outstretched hand, just out of reach, heading toward the basket as the red lights on the backboard lit up.
Swish!
The ball sliced cleanly through the net, extinguishing the hopes of the Miami fans.
Han Sen had delivered a game-winning buzzer-beater on the grandest stage—the NBA Finals.
This was his first Finals game-winner, arriving at the moment it was most needed.
To be the best, you had to beat the best.
"He did it! He did it! The Memphis Grizzlies have defeated the Miami Heat to defend their championship!"
Charles Barkley leapt from the commentary table in excitement.
"Looks like I don't have to drink bathwater after all!"
Shaquille O'Neal buried his face in his hands.
He couldn't bear to look at Barkley, let alone Smith.
The thought of fulfilling his bet turned his stomach.
On the court, Han Sen raised his arms in triumph as his teammates rushed toward him.
4-2.
Not only had they beaten the Heat, but they had exceeded all expectations with this scoreline.
It was all because of Han Sen.
Carter crouched on the sidelines, taking a deep breath. When Joerger came over to help him up, Carter made a gesture of prayer.
Perhaps he was thanking God. Or perhaps he was thanking himself for making the right decision at the trade deadline. Then, he too joined the celebration, embracing Han Sen in a warm hug.
"You're him," Carter said, offering the highest compliment imaginable.
Han Sen had delivered 43 points, making it consecutive 40+ games in the Finals. A Game 6 buzzer-beater to cap it off!
Kenny Smith had been right—Han Sen was the modern-day Jordan.
Jamison joined in, hugging Han Sen tightly.
"Finally, I can rest," Jamison said, his joy unmistakable. He was ready to savor life after basketball.
Even Joerger embraced Han Sen, overcome with emotion.
Two years into his career and already a back-to-back champion. From relative unknown to legendary coach, Joerger was experiencing the Phil Jackson-style thrill of guiding a superstar.
After embracing his teammates, Han Sen noticed Delonte West on the outskirts of the celebration. He approached and bumped fists with him.
No words were exchanged, but none were needed. A simple smile said it all.
-End of Chapter-
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone