章節 134: I'll Lead You to Victory.
After the press conference ended, Battier gave Han Sen a 'Batman' hug and whispered thanks in his ear.
No matter how many compliments were said in front of the reporters, none could compare to this one in person.
"Save the thanks for later. Like you said, winning just one playoff game isn't nearly enough," Han Sen smiled and patted Battier on the shoulder after they parted.
Memphis fans were celebrating their victory wildly after the game, but on social media, Stan was already being hyped up.
Successfully predicting two playoff upsets even earned him the nickname 'Octopus.' (TL/n: Paul, the octopus, who correctly predicted the 2010 FIFA World Cup.)
Of course, it was still too early to say Stan was a legend, as the series had seven games, and this was only the beginning.
Two days later, the second game of the Grizzlies vs. Thunder series resumed.
Brooks demonstrated his ability to adjust in this game. The Thunder collapsed their defense into the paint, significantly weakening the Grizzlies' inside game.
In contrast, after the success of the first game, Hollins stuck to his strategy, doing everything possible to get the ball to the paint.
As a result, Randolph shot 5-for-16 and only scored 15 points with 9 rebounds, and the Grizzlies lost the game 92-106.
With their inside play struggling, the Grizzlies' transition game also suffered. Harden, who only scored 8 points in the previous game, exploded for 21 in this one.
Stan's analytical predictions were accurate, but he seemed to have overlooked the difference in coaching abilities between the two head coaches.
After two games, the league announced the winners of the first batch of season awards: Sixth Man of the Year, Most Improved Player, and Coach of the Year.
Coach of the Year was unsurprising. After leading a fringe playoff team to the top of the league, Thibodeau was almost unanimously chosen.
The Sixth Man of the Year went to Lamar Odom, boosted by the 'Kardashian effect', marking his first time receiving this honor despite being known as one of the league's top sixth men.
It wasn't that he had his best season, but the competition for the award wasn't particularly fierce this year.
The competition for Most Improved Player, however, was the fiercest, with Kevin Love, Westbrook, and Han Sen all in the running.
- Last season, Love averaged 14 points, 11 rebounds, and 2.3 assists, while this season, he put up 20.2 points, 15.2 rebounds, and 2.5 assists.
- Westbrook averaged 16 points, 5 rebounds, 8 assists, and 1.3 steals last season, increasing to 21.9 points, 4.6 rebounds, 8.2 assists, and 1.9 steals this season.
- Han Sen averaged 13.2 points, 2.5 rebounds, 1.6 assists, and 2.1 steals last season, jumping to 21.4 points, 3.5 rebounds, 2.1 assists, and 2.3 steals this season.
Ultimately, Han's team success and his statistical improvement helped him edge out Love and Westbrook to win the Most Improved Player award.
During the training session after receiving the award, Han Sen's teammates congratulated him.
Although this award wasn't the most prestigious, beating out Love and Westbrook made it one of the highest-caliber Most Improved Player awards in history.
Yet Han Sen wasn't feeling particularly happy—not because of any supposed 'curse' of the award, which was just a stereotype—but because of the Grizzlies' current playoff predicament.
Brooks had always been considered a 'nanny-type' coach, much like Brown. But the difference between the two in terms of tactical skills was stark.
Or you could say the biggest difference between Brooks and other defensive coaches like Brown and Hollins was his ability to adapt on the fly.
If Hollins stubbornly stuck to his inside strategy, the Grizzlies could very well exit in the first round.
Plus, Hollins was a stickler for obedience, or you might call it stubbornness.
Back when they played the Lakers, Han Sen had already clashed with him over defending Kobe. If Joerger hadn't mediated, they might have ended up in a full-blown argument.
Strong-arming Hollins was not an option.
Before practice started, Han Sen approached Battier, hoping he could convince Hollins. Battier was the only team member Han Sen knew who had successfully persuaded Hollins before.
However, when practice began, the Grizzlies' drills still focused on low-post tactics.
During the session, Battier told Han Sen the result: Hollins firmly believed that controlling the paint was the key to winning basketball games.
This was very much in line with reality. Otherwise, the Grizzlies wouldn't be the only team in the league still running a traditional low-post offense with a twin-tower setup.
It wasn't just confidence from winning the first game; it was Hollins' entire tactical foundation—what his NBA career was built on.
At that moment, Han Sen recalled what Conley had once said: Hollins had served as an interim coach twice before, but both times he wasn't retained—there was a reason for that.
Game 3 of the series saw both teams return to Memphis for battle.
The FedEx Forum was packed and livelier than ever.
Even though they lost Game 2, with the series tied 1-1, the Grizzlies had already stolen home-court advantage from the Thunder.
And Randolph was unlikely to shoot 5-for-16 again, so the Grizzlies still held an inside advantage and remained the more likely team to advance.
Many fans in the arena held up signs saying things like "I want to drink Scarlett's bathwater" and "How about Swift's bathwater?" Someone even brought a "Whoop that trick" flag.
You could feel the passion of the Memphis fans; the shame of the past wasn't just felt by players like Battier and Jason Williams—fans felt it even more deeply.
After all, the Grizzlies hadn't made the playoffs since then.
After the opening ceremony, both teams' starting lineups were announced.
- Thunder: Westbrook, Sefolosha, Durant, Ibaka, Perkins.
- Grizzlies: Conley, Tony Allen, Han Sen, Randolph, Marc Gasol.
With Gasol winning the tip-off for the Grizzlies, the game officially began.
Randolph called for the ball in the low post against Perkins. Sefolosha collapsed in to help, but Randolph spun to the baseline and hit a fadeaway jumper.
The FedEx Forum erupted in cheers.
That's right, Randolph wouldn't continue his poor shooting from the previous game.
The Grizzlies stuck to their strategy, but the Thunder adjusted again. This time, Durant didn't go for isolation right away but let Westbrook drive to the basket.
He exploded past Conley with a lightning-quick move, got into the paint, and finished a layup over Gasol.
His speed was unreal.
When John Wall dazzled fans at the rookie game, everyone was amazed, but Westbrook was even faster than Wall.
His speed was Olympic-level, so fast that he could probably compete in the 100-meter dash.
On the other end, Randolph continued to post up.
But this time, the help defense came from Ibaka instead of Sefolosha.
Ibaka's help defense, which shone during the rookie game, was far more disruptive than Sefolosha's.
Ibaka also adjusted, focusing on using his long arms to block Randolph's passing lane to Gasol.
Randolph was forced into a tough fadeaway, and the ball bounced off the rim.
Ibaka used his quick bounce to grab the rebound, and the Thunder immediately launched a fast break.
When Westbrook caught the ball, his speed was so fast that even the cameras couldn't keep up. The screen blurred as he sprinted down the court.
By the time the camera caught up, Westbrook was already soaring in the Grizzlies' backcourt, pulling off a powerful tomahawk slam.
After landing, Westbrook's veins bulged as he let out a roar, and the crowd buzzed with excitement.
Playing on the road, the momentum had been with the Grizzlies, but Westbrook's passionate display snatched it away.
Five minutes into the game, the Thunder had taken control and led 10-4.
Randolph's touch was clearly better than last game—he not only hit the opening basket but also knocked down both his free throws.
But Brooks' pregame adjustments were even more effective.
When Randolph used his post moves to get to the basket, Sefolosha would simply foul him, sending him to the line rather than letting him score.
This strategy was clearly aimed at disrupting Randolph's rhythm.
Although Randolph hit both free throws, he missed his next shot.
Seeing this, Hollins called Battier off the bench to sub in.
The idea behind the substitution was to create more spacing by replacing Allen with Battier, allowing Randolph to avoid double teams.
However, when Brooks saw this change, he quickly made adjustments, instructing Sefolosha to stay home while Ibaka continued to help on defense.
Randolph tried to pass to Gasol on the baseline, but Ibaka's long arms disrupted the play.
With little time left on the shot clock, the Grizzlies' possession ended with nothing.
"They need to find a way to get the ball into Han Sen's hands more," Barkley remarked from the commentator's booth.
The game reminded him of basketball from the previous century—the Grizzlies were playing far too rigidly.
As he spoke, Durant crossed over Battier and smoothly hit a mid-range jumper.
In the previous two games, Durant had decent scoring numbers, but Tony Allen, who was known as his defensive kryptonite, had held him to just 10-for-22 shooting in one game and 8-for-18 in another, along with forcing three turnovers. Durant's performance had clearly been impacted.
However, going up against Battier, it was different. Battier himself admitted that he no longer had the speed to keep up with Durant. When Durant had full energy, Battier's defense was noticeably less effective than Allen's.
On the Grizzlies' next possession, Han Sen's off-ball movement drew a foul from the Thunder.
At that point, a substitution occurred. Harden entered the game, replacing Sefolosha.
This was a clear signal. In the previous game, the Thunder had built their lead by tightening their defense and using Harden to push the pace in transition.
Now, the situation was even more favorable for the Thunder, and Brooks was making moves to seal the game early.
At that moment, Han quickly called his teammates together for a brief 'huddle'.
...
The tension on the court was palpable, the Grizzlies down by a few crucial points, and the roar of the Memphis crowd was growing restless.
Sweat dripped from everyone's faces, and the pressure felt heavier with every passing second.
Han looked each of his teammates dead in the eye, his voice low but filled with intensity. "Listen up, we're not losing like this," he began, his words cutting through the noise like a blade.
"They've adjusted. They've figured out our plays, and if we keep feeding the post like this, we're going home early."
Since Game 2, Brooks had made adjustments that had lowered the defensive pressure on Han Sen significantly.
Randolph clenched his fists, his frustration evident. He had been double-teamed in the post and was clearly struggling over the last two games.
Gasol nodded, wiping his forehead. Battier stayed silent, his veteran eyes watching Han closely.
Even Conley, the team's point guard, shifted uneasily, glancing toward the bench, knowing that their coach, Hollins, wouldn't easily stray from the low-post offense that defined the Grizzlies' identity.
Han saw Conley's hesitation, and with a commanding tone, he stepped forward. "Forget the playbook. Forget the plan. If we keep doing what they expect, we're done."
Conley's gaze met his, uncertain but searching for something—confidence, belief. Han Sen didn't blink.
"Give me the ball," Han said, his voice rising with the kind of conviction that made you believe he had already seen the future.
"I don't care about the double teams, the traps, or their rotations. I've been here before. We've been here before."
Randolph stared at him, the weight of the series heavy on his shoulders. Gasol opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, trusting Han's resolve more than any game plan.
"We're not out of this yet," Han Sen said, his voice building, like thunder before a storm. "But we need to change everything right now. The ball goes through me. I'll take the hits. I'll take the pressure. Just get me the damn ball."
The arena's noise felt distant, almost muted for a moment. Han Sen's words hung in the air like a promise.
"You give me the ball," he repeated, louder now, his eyes burning with a fire none of them had seen before. "And I'll lead us to win this thing. Right here. Right now."
For a second, no one spoke. It was as if time had frozen, waiting for someone to break the spell.
Hearing something like that from a second-year player would normally make you think they were being arrogant.
But coming from Han, it didn't feel that way.
It wasn't because Han had a big mouth—it was because he had done it before.
He was the 'Celtics Killer' and 'Scoreboard Terminator'. No one thought he was just talking big.
Then, one by one, they nodded. Randolph. Gasol. Conley. Even Battier, who had seen it all, placed his trust in Han Sen.
As they broke the huddle, Han grabbed Conley's arm and pulled him back for a final word. "Don't look at the bench. Don't second-guess. We're winning this together. We're taking this game back."
Conley nodded, the doubt in his eyes fading.
They stepped back onto the court, the roar of the crowd crashing down like waves, and Han Sen's words echoed in their minds: "I'll lead us to victory."
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