"Nowitzki again! His fadeaway jumper, it’s good!"
"Duncan can’t do anything about it! He’s unstoppable, unstoppable, you hear me?"
Kenny Smith shouted excitedly in the TNT broadcast booth.
Beside him, Miller couldn’t help but stand up. "There’s still a minute and a half left, but that shot was crucial. The Spurs don’t want to lose, but the Suns are unstoppable!"
He had spent almost his entire career with the Pacers. Although he only played for the Phoenix Suns for two years, he won a championship with them, making his career complete. In his heart, he was a Suns guy.
And this Suns team in front of him suddenly reminded him of that Five-star Phoenix Suns team that had crushed the league.
Back then, the Suns were so strong it was despair-inducing. No matter how hard their opponents tried, they could easily blow them out.
In the arena, the entire US Airways Center erupted.
Some fans even started chanting "MVP!"
In this series, especially the last two games, Nowitzki’s performance had been MVP-caliber.
Popovich called another timeout.
They were only down by 5. He needed to give his players a breather.
As the players came off the court, his gaze immediately fell on Duncan, and he opened his mouth to say something.
But when he saw Duncan panting for breath, walking past him and collapsing directly onto a chair, he held back the words he was about to say.
Duncan had truly given it his all.
He hadn’t rested for a single minute, pouring in 39 points.
He was about to hit 40.
And it wasn’t just scoring; he had also grabbed 14 rebounds and recorded 4 blocks.
He even had 5 assists with only 3 turnovers.
He protected the rim, he facilitated the offense, he ran all over the court, carrying the Spurs forward all by himself.
If he hadn’t scored half the team’s points by himself, the Spurs would have collapsed long ago.
Under these circumstances, what more could Popovich ask of him?
Taking a deep breath, Popovich said in a low voice, "Gentlemen, we cannot lose. We absolutely cannot lose, do you understand?"
He could already imagine what would happen if they were swept 4-0.
No one spoke.
Duncan had given his all, but hadn’t the others done the same?
Parker had rested for less than two minutes.
Ginobili was about the same.
Bowen, especially, had spent the entire game chasing Nowitzki around.
"We can’t lose!" Popovich’s voice trembled. In that instant, a thought that had been nagging him throughout the game resurfaced in his mind.
’Just be direct about it, take Nowitzki out of the game!’
Ever since the second quarter, when the Spurs started to fall apart, Popovich had been contemplating the possibility of doing just that.
But he had always dismissed it.
He didn’t have the gall to do it.
Chen Yu had treated Duncan right away before, so he really couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Besides, when you do something like that, you always have to consider the consequences.
’You take out their guy, what’s to stop them from taking out yours?’
On the other side, the team doctor was hurriedly treating a cut on Poseidon’s forehead.
Chen Yu stood nearby, watching.
This game was being played fiercely.
The Spurs were like a pack of wolves cornered on a cliff, fighting for their lives.
As a result, the intensity of the game was extremely high.
In the first three games, both teams had scored over 100 points at times. But in this one, with the game almost over, the Suns only had 79. That was the best proof.
With this level of defensive intensity, a few bumps and bruises were only to be expected.
The timeout ended quickly.
Chen Yu pulled Hardaway and Nowitzki aside for a final reminder, "Protect yourselves. Even if we lose this game, they can’t win the series."
This game had completely drained Duncan. For the next game, even at their home court, the Spurs would have even less of a chance to win.
And in a situation like this, with the defense playing so physically, Chen Yu was genuinely afraid an accident might happen.
After all, this was only the first round.
The Spurs couldn’t afford a loss, but the Suns could!
"Got it!" Hardaway gave him a thumbs-up.
Nowitzki also patted Chen Yu on the shoulder, grinning to reveal a set of perfect teeth.
In previous years, he had been called soft, always unable to lead the Mavericks to a breakthrough in the playoffs.
He was frustrated and disheartened.
But he was a smart man. He knew that he couldn’t entirely blame others for calling him soft. The problem was with him—his style of play wasn’t tough enough.
’You want to answer them, but you just don’t have the ability!’
But this season, with Chen Yu’s help, he had mastered the Golden Chicken Standalone.
In the playoffs, Nowitzki could truly feel that his skills had improved.
As his name echoed through the arena with chants of "MVP," he knew all his hard work had not been in vain.
’From now on, no one can call me soft again.’
’Because I’m not soft. I have the ability to make the shot and lead the team to victory.’
And none of this would have been possible without Chen Yu’s help.
The game resumed.
The Spurs were on offense, and again, they looked for Duncan.
Nowitzki immediately bodied up on Duncan, puffing out his cheeks and widening his eyes, looking as if he was giving it every last ounce of his strength.
The Suns were double-teaming him. Marion had already rushed over, giving him no room to attack.
Duncan made a half-turn and forced his way up. Staggering and about to fall, he passed the ball out.
It went to Bowen near the corner.
It was a bad pass; Bowen almost fumbled it.
He didn’t have much time to adjust, as Poseidon was already closing in on him.
And Hardaway instantly left Parker to close out on Ginobili.
In this game, the Suns had repeatedly left Parker open.
They were betting on his weak long-range shooting; he was 1-for-5 from three.
Even if they left him open and he drove to the paint, Marion would quickly rotate over to help.
Bowen gritted his teeth and took the shot.
CLANG! The three-pointer hit the rim and bounced out.
Chandler instantly boxed out Muhammad behind him and leaped to grab the rebound.
There was a considerable height difference between the two, and Chandler protected the rim very well.
On the sideline, Popovich stood motionless with his arms crossed, but his body couldn’t help but tremble slightly.
If that shot had gone in, the Spurs would have had a great chance to come back.
But it didn’t, and now their hopes were growing slimmer.
At that moment, Popovich clearly felt that he and the Spurs were marching toward their doom.
The blade hanging over his head was about to fall on his neck!
The feeling was enough to drive him mad.
Hardaway controlled the ball.
The Spurs opted for a full-court press, but forcing Hardaway into a turnover was still a difficult task.
The Suns, in control of the pace, began to run their offense.
As the ball moved around, Marion drove the baseline. At the elbow, Nowitzki came off a screen from Chandler.
Duncan was caught squarely behind the screen.
Bowen fought his way around Chandler to get back.
The opening was only there for an instant.
After catching the ball, Nowitzki surprisingly added a pump fake, getting Bowen to bite. Then he took one hard dribble to his left and pulled up for the shot.
It was his signature fadeaway jumper again.
He was in the zone now, running purely on muscle memory. Every shot he took subconsciously included the fadeaway motion.
The basketball traced a high arc, dropping through the net like a bombshell from the heavens.
The entire arena erupted.
Nowitzki pounded his chest and roared at the ceiling.
’Who the hell is soft now?!’
On the sideline, Popovich’s vision nearly went black.
That shot, you could say, had extinguished any hope of a comeback for the Spurs.
4-0. The Spurs were about to be swept.
He was the one who persuaded Holt, who convinced Buford to support him, to increase the team’s investment and push them close to the luxury tax line.
He was also the one who promised them a guaranteed trip to the Western Conference Finals, a run at the championship, and a return to glory for the Spurs.
But all of it had been mercilessly shattered by the Suns, by Nowitzki.
Less than a minute flew by.
The Spurs were swept, 4-0.

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