The night was set for a home game against the Nuggets, and anticipation was high. Steve Blake had just joined the team, still adjusting to the Rockets' tactical system. Under the guidance of Kerr, he undertook some basic drills, but Andrew made the decision—Blake was going to play tonight.
Despite their three-game losing streak, which had cost them the top spot in the West to the Mavericks, the Rockets still had strong fan support. Dawson understood that the losing streak was partly due to tough opponents and an unforgiving schedule. The fans could see that, too, and they held faith in their team.
The Nuggets, on the other hand, had been on fire after trading for Iverson. They crushed the Timberwolves and Rockets in back-to-back games, with Iverson and Anthony putting up a combined 60+ points. They were riding high, and the atmosphere in the Nuggets' camp was relaxed and confident.
Before the game, Andrew was interviewed by a local reporter. Most questions revolved around Blake's arrival and the team's new starting point guard. Andrew answered diplomatically, but his focus was on the game. Just as he was heading back to the court, he noticed a familiar, hostile figure approaching him.
Kenyon Martin.
"Hey, man, you still hanging around in this league?" Martin sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. Martin, of all people, was coming to challenge him? He smiled coolly and shot back, "Weren't you supposed to retire by now?"
Andrew's quick jab hit its mark. Martin's temper, already notorious, flared instantly. He hadn't forgotten how the league had fined him earlier, and Andrew's comment only fueled his rage. Without warning, Martin lunged at Andrew, his massive frame ready to shove him.
Before Andrew could react, Blake appeared out of nowhere, blocking Martin's hand mid-air. Blake, though shorter, stood firm, his expression calm but determined.
Martin, unamused by the interruption, forcefully pushed Blake aside. Fueled by rage, Martin raised his arm again, intent on making his point, even if it meant facing another fine.
Then came the sound—a solid *thud*. Blood began to trickle from Martin's forehead.
Blake had thrown a quick, unexpected punch. His fist connected squarely with Martin's face, and the aftermath left Martin dazed. Blake stood there, his fist still clenched, wearing a calm expression that said he wasn't afraid to throw another punch if needed.
Martin, now infuriated, tried to lunge at Blake, but his teammates pulled him back. Tangled in the chaos, Andrew grabbed Blake, making sure his newly-acquired player didn't escalate things further.
The tension was sky-high, and the game hadn't even started yet. Reporters had already begun flooding into the arena, and the altercation was caught on camera. Fans in the stands murmured in excitement—this wasn't just going to be a game; it was going to be a war.
Back in the locker room, Andrew gathered his team. The players were visibly fired up after the pre-game incident. McGrady, clenching his fists, muttered under his breath about putting Martin in his place on the court. But Andrew, keeping his composure, reminded the team that basketball—not fists—would do the talking.
The Rockets took the court with a renewed sense of purpose. Yao Ming and Millsap started in the paint, McGrady at the wing, while Battier and Barria manned the backcourt. Alston was still out with an injury, and instead of starting Hyde or Blake, Andrew took a gamble and put Barria, a rookie who had barely played in the NBA, against none other than Allen Iverson.
On the Nuggets' side, Iverson and JR Smith took control of the backcourt, Carmelo Anthony and Kenyon Martin lined up at the forward positions, and Marcus Camby locked down the center. Martin, still nursing the bruise from Blake's punch, sported a large bandage over his forehead and looked ready to explode.
With a sharp whistle, the game began. Yao Ming won the tip-off, and the Rockets made their move.
"Mark, do you think the Rockets can break this losing streak tonight?" ESPN's commentator Mike asked his partner, Mark Jackson, as the game got underway.
"It's a tough challenge, Mike. They've struggled against the Nuggets earlier this week, and with Alston out, they're missing their floor general," Jackson replied honestly.
"Yeah, but they just acquired Steve Blake, who had a solid season with the Trail Blazers last year," Breen added.
"He's new to the team, though. I'm not sure how much of an impact he can make tonight. And now they've got Barria, a complete unknown, playing against Iverson. That's like throwing a lamb to the wolves," Jackson quipped, shaking his head in disbelief.
Barria dribbled the ball up the court, handing it off to Yao Ming. The Rockets quickly set up their offense, but the Nuggets responded with a double-team on Yao, who passed out to McGrady. McGrady, ever the playmaker, used a screen from Millsap to fake a drive before stepping back for a three-point attempt.
The ball hit the rim and bounced high. Underneath, Kenyon Martin leaped for the rebound, but Yao Ming, towering above, effortlessly snatched it from him. Yao didn't waste a second, turning the offensive board into a smooth hook shot.
Martin jumped to contest but fouled Yao in the process. The referee's whistle cut through the air—it was a 2+1 for Yao.
"Yao Ming just owned Martin on that play," Breen exclaimed.
"Wait, did Yao just shout something?" Jackson asked, leaning forward in his seat.
"Tomato? Did he just yell 'tomato'? Does Yao have a thing for tomatoes?" Breen chuckled, clearly confused.
"No, man, I'm pretty sure that wasn't about tomatoes," Jackson replied, shaking his head with a laugh. "But whatever it was, Martin's not going to like it."
Yao calmly sunk the free throw, putting the Rockets up 3-0 to start the game. As the intensity ramped up, it became clear: this game was about more than just basketball. The animosity between the two teams was palpable, and everyone in the arena knew they were in for one hell of a ride.