Chương 29: Chapter 29: Breathe Easy
In reality, Andrew didn't disregard Van Gundy; rather, he was acutely aware that the timeout was limited, and the last attack was crucial. He needed to orchestrate his tactics with meticulous detail.
As the timeout concluded, Andrew finished laying out his strategy.
"Steve, don't sweat it; just treat this like practice. You can count on me," Andrew said, pulling Novak aside with a firm grip on his shoulder.
Novak nodded vigorously, his mind racing with possibilities for how he might contribute. Yet, he never expected to find himself in such a pivotal moment. Though nerves surged through him, Andrew's unwavering trust calmed his racing heart.
No matter what, he couldn't let Andrew down.
As the timeout expired, the Rockets prepared to inbound the ball.
Meanwhile, Riley stood rigid on the sidelines, his eyes locked on the unfolding scene.
The Rockets' offensive system caught him off guard, yet he took solace in the fact that his old rival, Van Gundy, was sticking to his tried-and-true methods, allowing himself to be outmaneuvered in the final moments.
With a narrow two-point lead and less than six seconds on the clock, the Heat had already pocketed half the victory.
For those last six seconds, Van Gundy had to ensure a reliable two-pointer in this final play, crafting a hundred defensive strategies with his eyes closed.
However, when play resumed and he saw Novak stepping onto the court, his mind hit a wall.
"Van Gundy finally found a three-point shooter?" he pondered, glancing at the Rockets' bench and fixing his gaze on Andrew.
Previously, whispers had floated around that the Rockets' complex offensive schemes stemmed from this young strategist's mind. A rookie who had never graced the court before—surely, this was a gamble designed to make their interior play as short as possible.
Noticing Yao Ming still positioned high on the court confirmed Riley's suspicions.
Old Jiang was still crafty, and only Phil Jackson could match him in wit.
With six seconds left, the final attack of the game hung in the balance. The American Airlines Arena fell silent, the fans seemingly able to hear their own heartbeats.
Across the ocean, Chinese fans clasped their hands in anticipation, knowing victory teetered on this moment.
In that instant, billions of eyes focused on this small arena.
"Beep!"
The referee's whistle shattered the silence, and the game resumed!
Alston inbounded the ball for the Rockets.
Battier and Yao Ming executed a double screen for McGrady, who used the pick-and-roll to move beyond the three-point line and receive the ball.
Riley maintained his composure on the sidelines.
The Heat's defense was sharp and calculated. Posey anticipated McGrady's move, sliding toward the three-point line, while the interior defenders focused on the Rockets' pick-and-roll, collapsing towards the basket.
As a result, McGrady was forced to take a contested shot against Posey's defense.
Under the immense pressure of the moment, sinking the shot was a long shot; yet, it relied on McGrady's remarkable talent.
McGrady caught the ball and launched into a quick first step.
However, Posey was ready, expertly cutting off his path to the basket.
Everything unfolded according to Riley's playbook.
The arena buzzed with excitement, fans eager to celebrate the impending victory.
Meanwhile, Chinese fans across the ocean could only shake their heads in disbelief, marveling at how Riley had outmaneuvered Van Gundy.
Then, in a stunning twist, the court's dynamics shifted.
Instead of forcing a shot, McGrady passed the ball to the right corner.
With all eyes on McGrady, Novak had deftly maneuvered to the bottom corner after Hayes set the screen.
Riley's eyes widened in shock.
He hadn't anticipated this outcome. He had employed a similar tactic in the last play, but that had featured Kapono—who had performed superbly. Novak, on the other hand, was a rookie with no prior experience!
What kind of audacity did it take to entrust such a pivotal moment to a newcomer?
Novak caught the ball, almost untouched, and without hesitation, he followed Andrew's guidance: just like in practice, he launched his shot.
"Beep!"
The moment the ball left his hands, a red light flickered on the sidelines—this was a shot with a whistle.
Time seemed to freeze.
Every eye in the arena was glued to the spinning basketball, collectively wishing, "Don't miss! Don't miss!"
Countless Chinese fans across the ocean held their breath, fervently chanting "It's in! It's in!" in their minds.
An invisible clash of faith reverberated through the arena, the tension palpable as the air crackled with energy.
The basketball soared through the air, tracing a beautiful arc, descending toward the hoop.
"Swish!"
A resounding cheer echoed through the American Airlines Arena.
Novak's three-pointer—nothing but net!
The Rockets had defeated their opponents!
"Yay!"
The Rockets' bench erupted in jubilation, players rushing onto the court in a frenzy of celebration.
In that moment, Novak, the architect of this dramatic victory, found himself engulfed in excited embraces from his teammates.
Chinese fans across the ocean screamed in exhilaration, swept up in the madness.
This game had been nothing short of thrilling!
Most importantly, the Rockets had clinched the win!
"Remember the name: Steve Novak!"
The side referee confirmed Novak's shot; no timeout had been called, and the buzzer-beater stood.
Fans in the arena were left speechless, their hearts crushed by the visiting team's triumph in such a high-stakes showdown.
Andrew's spirits soared as he watched his players celebrate wildly, a smile spreading across his face.
At that moment, he noticed someone watching him. Turning his head, he met the gaze of Pat Riley, the Heat's head coach.
Andrew flashed a knowing smile at him.
Riley looked taken aback before turning away.
This time, the mischief maker had played his hand too well. Riley probably assumed it was a fluke, but only Andrew understood that this was no stroke of luck; it had been meticulously planned.
Though Novak lacked defensive prowess, his three-point accuracy when left open was likely the best in the league.
After all, he had been the one to drain 297 of 300 three-pointers in training—hardly a fluke!
Andrew's only worry was whether Novak could hold his nerve in such a decisive moment. That was precisely why he had spoken to Novak before sending him onto the court, seeking to ease the psychological weight.
It seemed that this moment had not rattled him; sinking this critical shot might just mark the beginning of an extraordinary career.
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