บท 63: Chapter 63: Calm Under Pressure
Boozer's arrogant celebration instantly drew a chorus of boos from the passionate Rockets fans. The camera zoomed in on his smug expression as he relished the hostile atmosphere.
"Let's go, Rockets!" the crowd roared, growing louder, their energy now at its peak.
The Rockets went on offense. Yao Ming held the ball at the free-throw line, but Oku, using subtle but dirty tactics, made sure to prod at Yao with little fouls unseen by the referees.
At the same time, the Jazz defenders were using every trick in the book to disrupt the Rockets. Back in 2006, the league allowed a more physical style of play. The referees let things slide much more easily than they do now, and the Jazz were capitalizing on this, throwing the Rockets off their rhythm.
The Rockets seemed rattled, their usual fluid offense sputtering as they failed to move the ball effectively.
Frustrated, Yao tried to overpower Oku, but the Jazz's defensive ace, Kirilenko, quickly collapsed on him, slapping the ball away with a clean strip—though it was debatable if it was truly clean. No whistle blew.
The Jazz sped down the court, and Deron Williams sent a perfect pass to Fisher, who was wide open on the weak side. Fisher rose up and drained a three-pointer.
The Toyota Center gasped. The Jazz had jumped out to a 5-0 lead.
Back on offense, Yao, feeling the pressure, dished the ball to McGrady, who was quickly smothered by Kirilenko. McGrady tried to fake him out, and as he did, Kirilenko caught him on the elbow, a clear foul. The referee? Silent.
McGrady's shot didn't even touch the rim. Boozer grabbed the rebound, and Battier was forced to foul to stop the fast break.
McGrady stared at the referee, visibly annoyed, but the ref refused to acknowledge him.
The camera panned to Andrew, who sat composed on the Rockets' bench, his sharp eyes assessing everything. Despite the Jazz's relentless pressure, Andrew remained calm, his expression unwavering.
"They're suffocating the Rockets," commented Mike Breen from the booth. "The way the Jazz are playing is reminiscent of how the Suns fell apart when defensive intensity ramped up in the playoffs."
"Maybe the Rockets are feeling the effects of their long break," Mark Jackson added. "They haven't played a meaningful game in a while."
"Carlos Boozer's pre-game confidence wasn't for nothing," Breen continued. "The Jazz have clearly prepared well for this series, and Coach Andrew hasn't yet found a way to counter it."
"Welcome to playoff basketball!" Jackson quipped with a grin.
Meanwhile, the Jazz ran the same pick-and-roll play that had worked earlier. Boozer caught the ball inside, bulldozing Blake out of the way, and finished with an emphatic one-handed dunk.
7-0.
Boozer was fired up, waving his arms to incite the crowd, basking in the boos from Rockets fans. He was feeding off their hostility.
The Rockets called for a timeout.
Andrew rose from his seat, calm as ever.
Everything about this game felt familiar to him. The Jazz, just like before, were relying on their brutal defense and surgical pick-and-roll to dismantle the Rockets. But Andrew knew this playbook by heart. He'd seen it all before.
"Hoo, hoo, hoo..." The Rockets players were winded as they made their way to the bench. Even though only a few minutes had passed, the intensity of the Jazz's physical play had already drained their energy.
But the bigger issue wasn't their stamina—it was their frustration. The constant little fouls and the lack of calls from the referees were getting under their skin.
"Deep breath," Andrew instructed as the players gathered around him. His voice was soft but firm.
The players exchanged confused glances, unsure why he wasn't immediately addressing the tactical side of things.
"Take a deep breath," Andrew repeated, this time with more authority.
The players complied, filling their lungs with air. Slowly, the tension in their bodies eased.
Andrew waited until he saw the anxiety lift from their faces. "We swept these guys 4-0 during the regular season. Believe in yourselves. We're going to win this game."
His tone was calm, almost too calm for the situation, but it had the desired effect. The players, feeling reassured, began to nod.
Only then did Andrew pick up his clipboard.
"The Jazz are playing differently than they did in the regular season. They've simplified their pick-and-rolls and amped up the physicality on defense," he began, his voice steady as ever.
He quickly dissected the Jazz's game plan, his sharp basketball mind pinpointing their weaknesses.
"Their defense is okay, but we need to tighten ours. Steve, the refs are letting a lot go, so don't be afraid to get physical. If Boozer drags the ball up high, crank up the pressure," Andrew said, looking directly at Blake.
Blake nodded, his face determined.
"Shane, your closeouts are quick. Kirilenko can't shoot from deep to save his life. If he catches the ball outside, you've got time to recover."
Battier, ever the defensive anchor, nodded in agreement.
"As for offense, don't try to bait them into fouls. Run your sets, move without the ball, and be decisive with the pick-and-roll. Once we open up space on the perimeter, the rest will follow."
Everyone nodded, understanding exactly what Andrew wanted from them.
"For the next play," Andrew continued, drawing rapidly on the board, "Shane, you're setting up here. T-Mac, you're here. Blake, you're here. Yao, if the ball comes your way, don't hesitate. Attack the basket hard. And if it's open, put it back up for the offensive board. We aren't giving the Jazz any time for cheap tricks."
The team was laser-focused now, nodding in unison.
"Let's go, Rockets," Andrew said, extending his hand.
"Let's go!" the players shouted in response, their hands piling on top of his.
The timeout ended.
"Oh, the Rockets seem fired up. I wonder what Coach Andrew told them," Jackson remarked from the broadcast booth, noticing the shift in the Rockets' energy.
"Coach Andrew has a reputation for turning things around. I remember reading about a similar situation in the summer league. The Rockets were down and out, but after a timeout, they came back with a vengeance," Breen said, intrigued.
"Really? Well, we're about to find out if that magic works in the playoffs," Jackson responded.
Both teams returned to the floor, ready to restart the game.
Andrew's plan was in motion.
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