NBA: Basketball Legend.

Chapter 227: Chapter 227: Eight Consecutive Triple-Doubles, Barkley’s Heartbreak

Chapter 227: Eight Consecutive Triple-Doubles, Barkley’s Heartbreak

Chen Yan’s buzzer-beater had lifted the Suns to their eighth straight win—but it came at a cost.

Steve Nash’s back flared up again during the postgame celebration, Matt Barnes accidentally tore a stitch above his eyebrow, and Amar’e Stoudemire... well, he managed to injure himself in the most ridiculous way possible—falling off Chen Yan’s back mid-celebration and puncturing his index finger. He would be sidelined for three days.

It was the definition of joy turned to chaos—a string of bizarre injuries that would go down in Suns history.

Still, the show had to go on.

On March 23rd, the Suns traveled to Sacramento for the second game of a back-to-back against the Kings, their final matchup of the season.

The ”Chen Yan Effect” was stronger than ever. Arco Arena was packed to the rafters, ticket prices up nearly twenty percent. Even Kings fans were holding up signs that read: ”Congrats, Chen Yan, on Your 8th Straight Triple-Double!”

Barkley couldn’t help but laugh from the TNT booth. ”Kings fans already switched sides before tipoff,” he joked.

The game tipped off quickly, but the energy on the court didn’t quite match the hype. Both teams were limping through injuries—Sacramento was missing Brad Miller and Ron Artest, while Phoenix was still adjusting without Nash and Stoudemire.

The Kings’ defense was paper thin, and Chen Yan sliced through it like it wasn’t even there. Getting into the paint was easier for him than walking into his own apartment. When he wasn’t driving, he was stepping into wide-open jumpers from the perimeter.

By the end of the first quarter, the Suns led 31–21. Chen had already dropped 15 points, setting the tone.

In the second quarter, Phoenix turned up the pace. A 10–0 run blew the game wide open. Kevin Martin, Sacramento’s awkwardly elegant scorer, tried to answer with his signature twisting jumpers. Some went in. Most didn’t. His rhythm was as unpredictable as his release.

Halftime score: 63–42, Suns in full control.

Chen Yan’s line: 22 points, 4 assists, 6 rebounds.

Coming out of the break, Chen immediately went to work in the post, bullying Kevin Martin on the block. It wasn’t his usual move, but Martin’s wiry frame couldn’t withstand the contact.

Furious at being manhandled in front of his home crowd, Martin countered with extra aggression on the next play, shoving into Chen’s chest.

Beep!

The whistle blew—defensive foul. But as the whistle sounded, Chen spun and released a jumper.

Bang!

The shot banked in perfectly.

2 + 1.

Chen pointed down at the court, grinning. Martin could only shake his head, hands on his hips, embarrassed.

Chen wasn’t even known for post play, yet here he was scoring at will.

Then something hilarious happened. As Chen stepped to the line, the Kings fans started chanting in unison:

”PASS! PASS! PASS!”

Even Chen couldn’t hold back a laugh. The crowd didn’t care about the Kings anymore—they wanted to see history. Everyone in that arena had come to witness Chen’s eighth straight triple-double.

In the next few possessions, he humored them—feeding his teammates with crisp passes, directing traffic, and letting others finish the plays. When the Suns rebounded, his teammates boxed out hard to let Chen grab the boards cleanly.

Phoenix’s lead ballooned past twenty. With the game all but over, Chen decided to make the most of his minutes.

By the end of the third quarter, he had piled up 25 points, 9 assists, and 10 rebounds. Less than a minute into the fourth, he threw a perfect bounce pass to Barea, who slashed along the baseline for an easy layup.

That was assist number ten.

Triple-double number eight.

The Kings fans stood and cheered—not for their team, but for Chen Yan. They knew they were witnessing history.

”Eight straight triple-doubles!” Kenny Smith shouted from the booth. ”Some people think it looks easy, but take it from an NBA vet—it’s not. What Chen is doing right now is unreal!”

Barkley nodded. ”He just makes it look easy. That’s what separates the great ones from the rest.”

Kenny smirked. ”Speaking of great ones... Charles, didn’t you say you’d call Michael if Chen broke his record?”

Barkley sighed dramatically. ”I was hoping you’d forget.”

The cameras zoomed in as Barkley reluctantly pulled out his phone. ”Let’s just hope the man hasn’t blocked me yet,” he muttered, earning laughter from Kenny.

After a few rings, a familiar voice came through. ”Hey Charles, I’m playing golf. What’s up?”

”Michael,” Barkley said, grinning, ”I just wanted to let you know—Chen broke your streak of seven straight triple-doubles. Just now.”

There was a pause, then Jordan’s calm reply. ”Really? Congratulations to Chen. He’s a great player, and I’m not surprised.”

Barkley frowned. ”C’mon, man. You’ve set a lot of records in the NBA. Chen’s nickname is ’The Record Crusher.’ You think he’ll break all of them one day?”

Jordan chuckled, sensing Barkley’s trap. ”Maybe. He’s young, it’s his rookie year—anything’s possible. But I know one thing for sure...”

”What’s that?” Barkley asked.

”I’ve got five championships. He doesn’t.”

The booth went silent. Kenny Smith nearly fell off his chair laughing.

Barkley’s expression turned sour. He could practically see Jordan holding up five fingers on the other end of the line.

”Hey, Michael, we’re talking about Chen, not you—”

”I’ve got five championships.”

”Michael, the signal’s bad. Gotta go!” Barkley snapped, quickly hanging up.

Kenny was in tears from laughter. ”Oh man, Charles, he got you again!”

Barkley slumped back, muttering, ”I’m never calling that guy again.”

As the fourth quarter wound down, the Suns coasted to a 104–81 win.

Chen finished with 28 points, 11 assists, and 10 rebounds in 36 minutes—his eighth consecutive triple-double. D’Antoni benched him early in the fourth, confident the game was in hand.

Afterward, even the opposing coach couldn’t hold back praise. ”He’s impossible to defend,” Kings coach Reggie Theus admitted. ”You can read what he’s going to do and still can’t stop it.”

D’Antoni grinned when told of the compliment. ”Difficult to defend now? Wait until Steve and Amar’e are back. Then he’ll be impossible.”

At the postgame interview, a reporter asked, ”Chen, you’ve just broken Michael Jordan’s record of seven consecutive triple-doubles. Is this the most special moment of your career?”

Chen smirked slightly. ”I don’t want to break just one record. Not two, not three, not four...”

The room burst into laughter.

Everyone knew what that meant—another classic Chen Yan moment.

The confidence, the flair, the showmanship—

It wasn’t arrogance. It was inevitability.

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