NBA: Basketball Legend.

Chapter 81: Chapter 81: Kobe Enters and a Wave of Explosions!

Chapter 81: Kobe Enters and a Wave of Explosions!

After using the [Status Upgrade Card], Chen Yan could immediately feel the changes surging through his body.

His muscles weren’t as tight as before, his mind felt sharper, and even the fatigue seemed to melt away.

Physically, he felt better than he had in any of the previous games. But he’d only know for sure once he hit the court.

The 15-minute halftime break flew by.

Second half — game on.

The Phoenix Suns kept their starting five: Nash, Chen Yan, Raja Bell, Boris Diaw, and Amare Stoudemire.

The Lakers made a slight adjustment, subbing out Luke Walton for sniper Vladimir Radmanović to stretch the floor.

The Suns got first possession.

Nash brought the ball up past halfcourt, and Chen Yan stepped up to set a screen for him. Having wasted a few scoring opportunities in the first half, Chen wasn’t looking to go iso or force his own shot right away. Instead, he took the initiative to create space and open looks for his teammates.

This time, his screen was solid—he completely wiped Fisher out.

Nash used the pick, changed direction, and slipped right past the veteran point guard. But just as he turned the corner to attack the paint...

Kobe.

He slid around Chen’s screen and jumped right into Nash’s path.

Kobe clearly saw Nash as the bigger threat. The guy was a three-time assist king, a member of the exclusive 50–40–90 club, and could torch you in multiple ways.

Nash didn’t force it. He shuffled sideways, read the double, and kicked it back to Chen Yan.

Mismatch.

Standing in front of Chen was Fisher—shorter, older, and clearly slower.

Fisher bent his knees, pulled up his shorts, and gave Chen that classic pitbull glare.

”Let’s see what you’ve got, rookie.”

Chen Yan didn’t hesitate. He exploded to the right, one dribble, one step—gone.

In the paint, Kwame Brown rotated over to help, but Chen soared, twisted in mid-air, and pulled off a gorgeous reverse layup through contact.

And-one!

Fisher turned around in disbelief.

”Damn... he’s for real.”

”Wow! Chen just bullied Fisher off the dribble, drew the foul, and still got it to drop!”

”Fisher’s speed out there... man, it’s like he’s dragging an anchor.”

”Haha, c’mon now. Comparing Fisher’s speed to Chen’s is just cruel.”

The TNT crew couldn’t help but crack jokes as Chen calmly stepped up and knocked down the free throw.

54–59.

Lakers inbounded quickly.

Fisher pushed the ball up and handed it off to Kobe, who set up the offense at the top of the key.

This time, Kobe and Garnett ran a high pick-and-roll. Using Garnett’s massive frame, Kobe accelerated into the paint, slicing through the defense and finishing with a smooth reverse layup.

54–61.

Back in the day, teams used to double Kobe immediately on those screens and live with the big man getting open. But not anymore. Not with Kevin Garnett as the screener. You don’t leave an All-Star like that unguarded—no team would.

Suns wasted no time.

Nash flew up the court and swung it to Diaw at the elbow. For a moment, Diaw considered attacking Kwame Brown one-on-one.

But this version of Diaw didn’t have the strength or footwork yet. After a couple of clumsy dribbles, he realized Brown wasn’t budging.

Awkward.

So he turned and flipped a one-handed pass to Chen Yan in the corner.

Chen caught it, then slid up to the left wing. Raja Bell stepped in to screen for him, cupping his hands over his crotch and bracing for impact.

Kobe, anticipating the screen, started to go over it early—but Chen had other plans.

He dropped his center of gravity and snapped in the opposite direction.

Kobe tried to recover, but Chen’s first step was too fast—lightning quick. He gained a step, then blew by completely, curling baseline.

Here comes Kwame again.

Chen hesitated—then hit him with a sudden spin move and a lefty layup off the glass!

56–61.

Kwame staggered back, dazed by the change of pace.

He looked around like he needed GPS help.

From the Suns bench, the subs erupted—waving towels, yelling, clapping.

It wasn’t just the move—it was the vibe.

Chen was back.

Lakers’ possession.

This time, they posted up Garnett on the low block. Kobe stationed himself at the elbow, keeping the Suns from sending help.

With two elite scorers spacing the floor like this, Phoenix had no choice but to play it straight up.

After Garnett’s strong post-up, he hit his signature turnaround, iron-blooded jumper.

”Swish!”

56–63.

Stoudemire timed his jump perfectly and got a hand up right in Garnett’s face, but it still wasn’t enough to stop the Big Ticket from knocking it down.

The Suns wasted no time inbounding the ball. Stoudemire hit Nash on the baseline, and Phoenix kicked into high gear.

Chen Yan sprinted up the court alongside Kobe, keeping pace in transition. The Suns’ offensive rhythm was lightning-fast. Just a step outside the three-point arc, Chen caught a pass from Nash on the run.

He took one dribble, slid the ball between his legs, then gave a slick shoulder fake into a behind-the-back move—smooth as silk, all in one motion.

Kobe slid with him, eyes locked in, but Chen wasn’t backing down. Despite his rough first half, he attacked without hesitation.

Then—he rose.

Kobe contested, but Chen Yan was already in perfect rhythm.

”Swish!”

’The heavenly soldiers shone on the snowy frontier, raining golden armor like sand through the wind.’

A poetic metaphor for a deadly shot—Chen’s three-pointer was cold-blooded.

His edge, his fire—it was back.

”Damn! That was nasty!”

”That shake was disgusting—dude just hit a dry pull right in Kobe’s face!”

”Yo, Kobe looked helpless. That kinda pull-up’s impossible to stop!”

”That’s eight straight for Chen! He’s heating up!”

The Chinese fans were losing their minds. Chen had officially flipped the switch—from brick mode to bucket mode.

Back on the other end, the Lakers ran their triangle offense.

Kobe slid into the low post, drawing a double-team immediately. Calm and composed, he kicked it out to Fisher, who was wide open.

But instead of shooting, Fisher swung it to Radmanovic in the corner.

Radmanovic—L.A.’s king of long twos. A legit 6’10” sniper, he loved those awkward mid-range looks just a foot inside the arc. His two-point and three-point percentages? Nearly identical. Steady shooter, no doubt.

But rational decision-making? Not really his thing.

Soft like Charmin and stubborn to a fault, Vlad loved doing his own thing. And this time? He tried to get flashy.

Caught the pass. Pump-faked. Then hit a slow crossover, trying to sauce Chen Yan.

Bad move.

”Snap!”

The ball stayed, his body moved. Chen picked his pocket clean.

Radmanovic’s dribble was weak, his handle loose, and his center of gravity was all over the place—perfect target for a two-way hound like Chen.

Chen took off with the rock.

Kobe and Fisher instantly turned and sprinted back. Transition defense activated.

Chen reached half court, then spotted Nash diagonally ahead and zipped him the ball.

Without slowing down, Chen accelerated toward the rim.

Nash read the angle perfectly, floated the lob high into the air.

Kobe launched himself, trying to swat it out of the sky.

Too late.

The lob arced just past his fingertips—

”BOOM!”

A thunderous slam!

Kobe crashed into Chen midair and was knocked flat by the sheer force.

On the broadcast, the replay showed Chen cocking it back and yamming it down with one arm, right over Kobe’s outstretched frame.

The home crowd went silent.

Phil Jackson didn’t wait.

Timeout, Lakers.

Chen landed, chest heaving, arms raised. He turned to the baseline cameras and roared.

He was back. Fully back.

”Yo!! My guy is flexin’ now?” Kenny Smith laughed.

”Man, what a run! Chen Yan’s already got 10 in the second half!” Reggie Miller said, amazed.

”Chen’s screaming into the camera! This dude’s not usually this fired up.” Barkley chimed in.

”He’s gotta let it out, Chuck! That first half had him locked up,” Kenny added with a grin.

As the timeout buzzer echoed through the arena, Kobe, visibly fuming, slammed the basketball with one hand and stomped toward the bench.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it—how Chen Yan, cold as ice in the first half, suddenly turned into a flamethrower.

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