บท 202: The Jones Rule.
(TL/n: I'm not dead... yet. I'm counting the missing days. Once my finals are over I promise to catch up on the missed updates.)
After the Thunder's opening game, the team officially announced LeBron James' injury.
A Grade 3 ankle sprain would keep him sidelined for 4 to 6 weeks.
It wasn't just the injury itself that caught everyone's attention—it was the way it happened.
Dahntay Jones, known for his physical style of play, had been responsible, and this time, it seemed to surpass even his usual level of recklessness.
The league later announced a punishment for Jones: a $25,000 fine and a two-game suspension.
While some thought the punishment was fair, Han Sen didn't hold back his criticism during a post-practice media session.
"Why wasn't LeBron punished when he undercut Granger and me? Nobody supports these dangerous moves, but why does he get away with it?" Han questioned, stirring the pot and calling out the league's inconsistency.
Han's statement hit a nerve because it addressed a deeper issue: the league's leniency on undercutting jump shooters.
The infamous 'Bowen's three strikes on Carter' incident was well-remembered by fans. Carter's response of chasing Bruce Bowen down court became legendary, but Bowen himself faced no consequences.
He only received a single-game suspension in 2008 for undercutting Chris Paul.
Similarly, when Zaza Pachulia undercut Kawhi Leonard, the league turned a blind eye.
Han's remarks sparked a public uproar.
LeBron's situation was particularly controversial because he'd been both the victim and the perpetrator of such plays.
'Bronsexuals' online, argued that his actions were unintentional while others deliberately targeted him. Their reasoning only fueled more criticism.
One comment on social media stood out: "You can't always prove intent. Most undercuts happen unintentionally during defense."
This sparked heated debates. Some agreed, noting that defenders often watch the shooter's upper body and don't intentionally target their landing spot.
Others argued the opposite, claiming that a deliberate effort to pull back one's feet could prevent these incidents altogether.
As public discourse continued, the league acted swiftly, introducing a new rule.
The Landing Zone Rule states that if a defender gets too close to a shooter and does not leave them space to land, referees can assess a technical foul or flagrant foul, depending on the severity of the action.
Like previous similar regulations, fans have dubbed this one the 'Jones Rule.' ①
When you carefully examine the rule, it doesn't just punish reckless closeouts—it's designed to address the root of the issue.
Whether intentional or not, any action that could potentially lead to a dangerous closeout will automatically result in at least a technical foul.
At that time, technical fouls still carried the penalty of one free throw and loss of possession, meaning even incidental infractions could drastically impact the game. This forced defenders to be far more cautious about their footwork.
After this adjustment, almost every closeout deemed reckless was likely intentional.
Given that Jones was suspended for his incident, this rule set a precedent: other players engaging in similar actions would face serious consequences.
From a rules standpoint, it marked a significant step forward in curbing dangerous defensive habits.
This was particularly good news for Han Sen, as jump shooters were the most vulnerable to such fouls. Kobe Bryant himself once famously trained to land with both feet to avoid being undercut.
With the Jones Rule enacted, the controversy quieted—somewhat. LeBron's most fervent fans pivoted, branding the Grizzlies as a 'dirty team' whose championship run relied on rough play.
The Grizzlies started gaining a reputation akin to the Spurs in their prime—polarizing but undeniably effective.
On the bright side, such notoriety wasn't entirely bad.
After all, fans only ever accused the Spurs of dirty play, not the other way around. The Grizzlies' haters, ironically, provided them a protective aura.
Amid the controversy, the Grizzlies defeated the Thunder, then the Blazers, Rockets, Jazz, Clippers, and Knicks, starting the season with a 6-0 record.
They not only thrived during one of the toughest seasons in history but were also one win away from their best start ever.
The last time they had such a chance, Zach Randolph's injury against the Bulls had shattered it.
This time, they had the opportunity again.
Their next opponent? The Warriors.
...
The Warriors hadn't made the playoffs since the 2006-07 season, best remembered for the iconic 'We Believe' team upsetting the Mavericks as an eighth seed.
That squad had its moment but wasn't considered a serious contender, labeled as 'chaotic' and 'defenseless.'
However, last season the new head coach Mark Jackson instilled a defensive mindset into the team, shedding their old reputation.
The front office also made bold moves, trading long-time cornerstone Monta Ellis for Australia's defensive stalwart, Andrew Bogut.
This year, the Warriors surprised many by starting 4-2, staking their claim among the Western Conference's heavyweights.
This was enough to earn respect from critics, with Stephen Curry leading the charge.
Initially, Curry's 4-year, $44 million contract was seen as a risky move, given his history of injuries and limited playtime (only 26 games the previous season). His ankle surgery further solidified the 'injury-prone' label.
Yet, in the first six games, Curry averaged 22 points, 4 rebounds, and 7 assists, cracking the league's top 10 scorers.
Fans started drawing parallels to Han Sen's early days with the Grizzlies, especially after realizing Curry and Han were from the same draft class.
Adding to the conversation were other standouts from the 2009 draft, like James Harden (averaging 25+ with the Rockets) and Blake Griffin (putting up 20+ points, 10 rebounds, and 5 assists with the Clippers).
Fans began reevaluating the so-called 'weak' 2009 draft class, comparing its depth to the legendary 2003 draft.
Some even unearthed Han's comment to Curry after his three-point contest win years earlier: "The future is yours." This only added hype to the matchup.
But surprisingly, the pregame spotlight wasn't on Han or Curry. Instead, it was on the Warriors' rookie, Draymond Green.
A 35th pick with a knack for stirring the pot, Green had built a solid social media following of over a million fans.
Before facing the Grizzlies, he made waves with a bold statement:
"The Grizzlies are an outdated team. Their style of play is about to become irrelevant. The Warriors play modern basketball."
This ignited heated debates online.
Some thought Green's comments were absurd, pointing out that the Grizzlies had swept the Heat and beaten the Lakers in last year's playoffs.
Others conceded he might have a point, as the Grizzlies' slow-paced, grind-it-out style contrasted sharply with the Warriors' fast-paced offense, marked by off-ball screens and three-point shooting.
Still, most fans mocked Green, dismissing him as a second-round pick trying to make noise.
Han Sen, however, saw potential—not in Green's words but in his ability to stir controversy.
Back when he was with the Cavaliers, Han had 'mentored' Paul Pierce into becoming a top-tier hater. He had tried doing the same with Blake Griffin, but Griffin lacked the killer instinct.
Green, though, had all the makings of a 'hater-in-chief.'
With the Warriors poised to rise, their fans would inevitably add to Han's hater points. Green's ability to fan the flames made him invaluable.
Realizing this, Han decided to help amplify Green's profile on social media.
Logging into his own account, he fired off a response:
"Someone explain to me which team has won a championship playing 'modern basketball.' I'll wait."
Han Sen's comment cut straight to the core because, as of now, no team truly embodies 'modern basketball' to the point of winning championships.
But he wasn't just talking for the sake of argument—'modern basketball' itself is an ambiguous term.
Sure, the game has evolved towards more spacing and efficient scoring, but if running fast is all it takes to define modern basketball, the Suns' 'Seven Seconds or Less' offense predates anything the Warriors are doing.
The truth is, each era has its own dominant style, and the Warriors' emergence owes much to changes in league rules over the years.
Take the Warriors' iconic 'Death Lineup' as an example—it only became viable after a series of rule adjustments significantly diminished the role of traditional centers.
Imagine Yao Ming or Shaquille O'Neal parked in the paint—how many possessions could Green's frame survive against them?
In fact, the Warriors' breakout season came just a year after the league implemented the Verticality Rule. ②
When Green saw that Han Sen had responded to him, he got fired up.
Though the two had exchanged trash talk back in their NCAA days—Han's first $500,000 bet had been with Green—there was now a huge disparity in their statuses.
Han was the reigning Finals MVP, while Green was a second-round pick.
Green had feared being ignored, but now that Han had acknowledged him, he had a chance to elevate his profile.
"The Warriors will be the first! And I'll do it alongside Stephen Curry!"
Green's bold declaration, akin to "Kobe and I combined for 83 points," was shameless yet effective. He knew that tying himself to Curry would secure his role within the Warriors' system.
"Let's see if your 'modern basketball' can last three quarters," Han fired back on social media.
Han's unexpected engagement with a second-round rookie surprised many, but the resulting exchange successfully turned the spotlight onto the upcoming game.
Of course, Green benefited the most from the attention. While his strong defense had earned him a spot in Mark Jackson's rotation, he was still at the bottom of the pecking order.
Now, everyone knew who he was.
Fans even dug into their past and discovered that Han and Green had a history, including Han's iconic buzzer-beater where he leaped onto the scorer's table.
TNT took note of the hype, sending their star commentary trio to cover the game live.
...
On game night, Oracle Arena—usually not a sellout—was packed to the brim. Online viewership also surged. It was rare for a non-marquee matchup to generate this level of excitement.
But it was understandable.
Han was notorious for his trash talk, and now the Warriors had a loudmouth of their own.
Add in the personal history and drama, and you had a story that transcended the typical regular-season narrative.
During warmups, the broadcast team even split the screen between Han and Green. Green must have been thrilled.
Green's No. 23 jersey matched Han's iconic 77, creating a perfect visual callback to their NCAA days. The theatrics were flawless.
Han, unfazed, went about his warmups. Green wasn't even a starter yet. If cultivating a 'hater-in-chief' was like raising fish, Green was still just a fingerling in Han's pond.
After the pregame ceremony, the starting lineups were announced.
The Grizzlies fielded their usual five, while the Warriors started Curry, Thompson, Barnes, David Lee, and Ezeli. Bogut was still recovering from ankle surgery.
Capitalizing on this, the Grizzlies immediately attacked the paint, overwhelming the Warriors' interior defense and forcing fouls.
Offensively, the Warriors struggled to execute in half-court sets.
Han noticed an odd pattern: though Curry was the team's top scorer, Mark Jackson's system didn't heavily rely on him as a primary ball-handler.
Instead, Jackson used Curry primarily as an off-ball shooter, elevating Klay Thompson's role in the offense.
This approach seemed baffling. As an off-ball shooter, Thompson's height gave him a tactical edge, but marginalizing Curry's potential as a playmaker? That was a misstep.
Han began to understand why Jackson was eventually fired.
Failing to recognize Curry's full potential was one thing, but relegating your top scorer to a secondary role was indefensible.
In hindsight, Jackson's frustration over being replaced by Steve Kerr felt misplaced.
He wasn't akin to Rick Carlisle losing his job after building a foundation; his approach felt outdated, more comparable to Lionel Hollins' rigid coaching style.
Five minutes into the game, the Grizzlies led 11-5.
Then, David Lee picked up his second foul.
Although Jackson had tried using the bigger Ezeli to guard the more physical Zach Randolph, the Grizzlies' twin towers were too dominant for Lee to match up against.
As the crowd roared, Han glanced toward the scorer's table and saw Green checking in, adjusting his jersey.
Who said the NBA isn't a bit theatrical? Thanks to the pregame trash talk, Green's rotation role had been bumped up, giving him an earlier-than-expected debut.
Han smirked. 'The fish has entered the pond,' he thought. Green might be loud now, but he was just getting started as Han's newest project.
-End of Chapter-
Translator's note:
① The actual rule that mandates defenders give shooters space is not officially called the 'Jones Rule.' It's commonly referred to as the 'Zaza Rule' or more formally, 'The Landing Zone Rule.'
This rule was introduced by the NBA after the infamous incident in the 2017 Western Conference Finals when Zaza Pachulia stepped under Kawhi Leonard during a jump shot, causing Leonard to suffer an ankle injury.
The rule aimed to protect jump shooters by penalizing defenders who invade their landing space, even if the contact is deemed unintentional.
The rule specifies that, if a defender doesn't allow a shooter a safe place to land, it can be called as a flagrant foul depending on the severity of the contact. It is often assessed under 'unsportsmanlike conduct' guidelines.
It's not tied to Dahntay Jones or any specific rule named after him. The 'Jones Rule' reference here is a fictional interpretation made to highlight a similar scenario in this context.
② Verticality Rule: This rule restricts defenders from turning their bodies or lowering their hands while contesting shots. Defenders can jump straight up with their arms raised vertically but cannot pivot mid-air or extend into the offensive player's space.
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