Andrew nodded in satisfaction, his sharp eyes gleaming with approval as he watched the action unfold on the court. Now, this is more like the Baria I remember.
Barria had finally tapped into his potential, showing a glimpse of the lightning-fast player Andrew knew he could be. In the NBA, surviving isn't just about skill—it's about having that one edge that makes you indispensable. For Barria, that edge was his speed.
Though Barria didn't have the experience or the court presence of a seasoned veteran like Iverson, speed and relentless aggression could close a lot of gaps. He wasn't destined to be a superstar, but every team needed a wildcard—a soldier who could ignite momentum in an instant.
Thibodeau and Cole exchanged astonished glances. They couldn't believe the transformation they were witnessing. Barria had gone from tentative to explosive, and it was all thanks to Andrew's intervention. His ability to read players and push the right buttons was starting to make waves.
Barria stepped up to the free-throw line, calmly sinking both shots and adding two more points to his growing tally. His fourth and fifth career points, small but significant.
Across the court, Karl was growing visibly anxious. He had subbed Iverson back into the game earlier, hoping his star could shift the momentum. But instead, the Rockets were pulling ahead. Frustrated, he motioned for his starters to return to the floor, unwilling to let the game slip away.
Andrew smirked as he saw Karl's hasty substitutions. The Rockets had been outmatched earlier, but now, with Barria breathing down Iverson's neck and sticking to him like glue, the dynamic had shifted.
While Barria wasn't shutting down Iverson completely, his newfound energy was wearing down the 31-year-old veteran. Bit by bit, the Rockets began to stretch their lead.
By the end of the third quarter, they were up 86 to 71. The scoreboard reflected more than just points—it showed Andrew's growing influence on the game.
"I don't know what Andrew said to Barria during that timeout, but it clearly lit a fire under him. The kid's transformed! It might just be what the Rockets needed to break their three-game losing streak at home," Brin, the commentator, remarked with a note of awe.
Jackson, his co-commentator, nodded in agreement. "I have to admit, Andrew has surprised us again. His ability to fire up his players is impressive. We could be looking at a rising star in the coaching world."
The buzz in the arena shifted. The commentators, the fans, even the Rockets' bench—everyone was starting to believe this could be their night.
As the fourth quarter began, Karl wasn't about to give up. The Nuggets were still trailing by 15 points, but Karl subbed his starters back in, hoping for a last-ditch push.
Andrew, however, was already two steps ahead. He quickly adjusted, bringing his own starters back, including the determined Barria, who was showing no signs of slowing down.
Barria pushed the ball up the court with Iverson lurking, eyeing him like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And then it happened—Iverson pounced, trying to steal the ball. His quick hands were legendary, having led the league in steals more than once.
Barria, while fast, lacked the elite ball-handling skills to match Iverson's quickness. He managed to keep possession but couldn't advance the ball past half-court in time.
"Beep!"
The referee's whistle pierced through the arena—the Rockets were called for an 8-second violation.
Andrew stood up immediately, his face a mix of calm and determination. Across the court, Karl's smirk told him that the old coach had finally exposed the Rockets' biggest weakness.
Iverson wasn't done either. The Nuggets' star orchestrated a quick sequence of plays: Anthony drained a turnaround jumper, Iverson forced Barria into a bad pass, and Smith drove in for an easy layup.
Just like that, the 15-point lead was shaved down to 11.
Andrew called for a timeout, knowing the momentum was shifting.
"The Rockets are in trouble now," Brin said, his voice filled with excitement. The battle on the court had now escalated into a tactical war between two head coaches, each trying to outmaneuver the other.
"Coach, it's my fault," Barria admitted, his head hanging low as he approached Andrew during the timeout.
Andrew placed a firm hand on Barria's shoulder. "No, it's not on you. This is a team effort. Steve, get ready," he said, turning to Blake, who was sitting on the bench, still in his warm-up gear.
Blake was ready in an instant, shedding his training clothes and stepping up, his eyes gleaming with purpose.
"We're still up by 11," Andrew began, his voice steady. "We've fought hard for three quarters, and we're not about to hand this game over. Steve, you get the ball across half-court. T-Mac, stay in the backcourt for support. We stay focused and finish this."
The crowd erupted into cheers as the timeout ended. Blake, the steady-handed veteran, took charge of the ball, bringing a sense of calm back to the Rockets' offense.
Iverson, relentless as ever, pressed Blake hard, but Blake's superior ball-handling skills and court vision allowed him to dribble past half-court without breaking a sweat.
The ball moved swiftly into Yao Ming's hands, and the Rockets ran a well-executed off-ball screen, freeing up space for Yao to work inside. The Nuggets couldn't double-team in time, and Yao forced Camby into a foul. As Martin leaped to block the shot, he landed awkwardly, injuring his ankle.
The crowd gasped as Martin was stretchered off the court.
Yao coolly sank both free throws, pushing the Rockets' lead back to 13 points.
On the other end, Anthony and Iverson continued their relentless assault, but the Rockets' defense, energized by Andrew's tactical adjustments, held firm. Blake's ball distribution kept the Nuggets off balance, and Yao's presence in the paint made any inside attempt a gamble.
By the time the final buzzer sounded, the Rockets had held their ground and secured a much-needed victory.