Life as NBA Rookie (SlamDunk System)-Chapter 191-195

Chapter 191: He’s Already Entered "The Zone"

Losing Game 3, the defending champions are now one step away from the cliff’s edge.

Led by Kobe, the Lakers’ core players know all too well that if they can’t pull off a win in the upcoming Game 4, they’ll not only be down 1-3 in the series, but flipping the script against this Warriors team in the remaining games would be like chasing a pipe dream.

Determined not to go down without a fight, Kobe and his teammates put in extra practice on their three-point shooting leading up to Game 4.

This was a suggestion from Lakers assistant coach Brian Shaw.

In the first three games, aside from heavy double-teaming on Kobe, the Warriors leaned hard on a zone defense to keep Curry and Nash from getting torched. So, in Shaw’s view, the Lakers needed to shoot with more precision to boost their offensive efficiency and punish Golden State’s zone.

Plus, after three games, both the Lakers and Warriors had shown their cards in this high-stakes gamble.

Zack, without a doubt, is the Warriors’ ace.

And the Lakers?

Before Game 4 tipped off, Phil Jackson had a heart-to-heart with Kobe, saying, "Kobe, this is hands-down your best shot at beating him."

The Zen Master is a coach who excels at unlocking the potential of his star players.

Jackson knew Kobe’s a guy who never backs down from a challenge.

So, instead of coddling him, Jackson focused on giving Kobe the spark he needed to flip that "superhero mode" switch on the court.

Two days later, at the Staples Center.

Game 4 of the Western Conference Finals between the Warriors and Lakers kicked off as scheduled.

During pregame warm-ups, Zack spotted LeBron James, rocking his signature backward baseball cap, courtside.

Curious, Zack wondered why LeBron was making an appearance tonight.

"Bron, you here to cheer me on?" Zack teased, walking over to chat with him.

LeBron gave a wry smile. "Cleveland’s been suffocating, man. I just needed to get outta there for a bit."

Suffocating? That’s putting it lightly.

This postseason, LeBron’s Cavaliers made history as the first top-seeded team to get bounced in the first round since the playoffs switched to a best-of-seven format. That’s left LeBron taking a daily beating from the American media.

After all, in this era dominated by Zack, LeBron—who’s been a cut above the rest in the regular season—is seen by many in the U.S. media as the one guy who could eventually challenge Zack’s reign.

American basketball is desperate for a "Captain America" to topple Zack’s dynasty.

Sure, LeBron’s track record against Zack has been a string of losses so far.

But in sports, one loss—or even a few—doesn’t define you.

LeBron’s young enough.

Just like it took Jordan years to finally get past the Pistons.

This season, as LeBron’s started to master the role of a primary playmaker, his stats and increasingly explosive athleticism have given American fans a glimpse of his bright future.

Fans are rooting for LeBron, who’s been nipping at Zack’s heels, to one day catch up—like those comic book superheroes who lose a few battles before coming out on top.

But with the Cavs’ first-round exit crushing those lofty expectations, LeBron, who’d sparked so much hope in the regular season, is now paying the price.

And that price is steep.

So steep that LeBron couldn’t stand to stay in Cleveland a second longer.

On his agent Rich Paul’s advice, LeBron, craving some fresh air, showed up at Game 4 of the Western Conference Finals.

For one, this year’s Western Conference Finals are generating insane buzz, and LeBron could keep himself in the spotlight by being there. Plus, it’s a chance to show the world he’s not down for the count.

"You know, I still got a lot to learn from Messiah and Kobe," LeBron said humbly during a courtside interview with reporters. "I’m hoping watching them up close will show me how these two greats lead their teams to the finish line."

In that moment, with LeBron’s modest attitude and expressed desire to grow, Zack figured even the media hounds who’d been tearing into him would probably cut him some slack afterward.

As for what LeBron might actually learn from watching?

That’s not the point.

What matters is that LeBron’s using this appearance to show the world he’s got a heart that won’t quit.

It’s like taking a test—you might not know the answers, but you gotta make sure everyone hears you flipping those pages.

Warm-ups wrapped up.

At center court, both teams’ starting lineups took their places.

Tonight, Zack, playing center, faced off against the Lakers’ Pau Gasol for the opening tip.

Amusingly, knowing he’s no match for Zack in the jump ball, Gasol didn’t even bother trying and jogged back to his half as soon as the game started.

Curry brought the ball up, and the Warriors quickly spread the floor, setting up Zack for an isolation against Odom on the wing.

In a flash, Zack bulldozed through Odom’s defense, pulled up, and drained a jumper.

From the stands, LeBron, who’d instinctively put himself in Zack’s shoes, frowned.

As Zack broke through, both Gasol brothers were in position to help defensively, so aside from passing, pulling up for a jumper was Zack’s best option.

But that move?

It’s been LeBron’s Achilles’ heel for years.

LeBron’s dead certain he could blow by Odom with his speed and strength, just like Zack did.

What he can’t do is reliably punish defenses with a pull-up jumper like Zack.

LeBron knows—except for those rare, lights-out nights—his pull-up shots usually end up punishing his own teammates.

Contrary to what some haters think, LeBron’s actually really good at recognizing his strengths and weaknesses.

If he didn’t know his pull-up jumper was a weak spot, why would he so often bail out mid-drive to make a jump pass?

In the future, as the poster child for pragmatic, results-driven basketball, LeBron’s all about playing to his strengths, avoiding his weaknesses, or finding workarounds—call it whatever you want.

You can question a lot about LeBron, but you can’t deny he’s a guy who knows how to leverage his advantages to create easy buckets and rack up "smart points."

Back to the game, it’s the Lakers’ ball.

Kobe, who’d been putting in extra work on his threes, rose up over Wallace and splashed one.

Kobe’s three-point shooting has always been streaky.

But tonight, his confident stroke from deep jogged Zack’s memory.

If Zack’s recollection is right, historically, Kobe shot the lights out from three this season—up until the Finals, at least. Especially in that Western Conference Finals against the Suns, where Kobe hit 43% from deep while launching over seven a game.

Zack knew that to cool Kobe’s hot hand, the Warriors would need to switch from zone to man-to-man defense.

In a zone, with Pau Gasol anchoring the middle, the Lakers could always find open shooters on the wings.

In the first three games, the Warriors stuck with the zone because, aside from Battier, the Lakers didn’t have consistent outside threats.

But now, with Kobe drilling another three on the next possession, this Mamba was starting to show his fangs, and the Warriors needed to adjust their defense.

Zack shot a quick glance to his teammates, signaling the change.

He knows his old rival well.

He’s not betting on Kobe missing those threes.

Nor is he betting that Kobe won’t keep firing over the Warriors’ zone all night.

Because if regular-season Kobe could break the NBA’s single-game three-point record against Garnett’s drop coverage, then this obsessive, Mamba-mentality Kobe could absolutely do the same.

Back on the court, it’s the Lakers’ turn again.

Seeing the Warriors respect his game, Kobe called for the ball, got low, shook off Wallace, and dished to Pau Gasol, who used a screen to get open near the free-throw line and hit a jumper.

Unlike the first three games, Kobe was noticeably more aggressive from the jump tonight.

Scoring, driving, dishing.

Every possession, Kobe was driving the Lakers’ offense. To Zack, he looked less like Jordan’s heir and more like a souped-up, athletic version of Luka Dončić.

This was a Kobe Zack had never seen before.

He was eating up nearly all of the Lakers’ first-quarter possessions, trying to impose his will on the game in a way that matched his intensity.

Sure, Kobe’s never been a fan of Zack’s ball-dominant style.

But with the Lakers backed into a corner by the Warriors, Kobe, in questioning Zack’s approach, started to understand it—and became it. In doing so, he stepped onto a path he’d never taken before, influenced subtly by Zack.

End of the first quarter: 34-34.

Kobe dropped 14 points, 5 rebounds, and 5 assists in the first.

Running the show—scoring, playmaking, crashing the boards—Kobe seemed to have entered a new realm.

But the more he tried to control the game, the more he realized Zack, the pioneer of this ball-dominant style, had left every other player in this era in the dust.

Kobe had seen prime Michael Jordan with his own eyes.

That relentless, predatory Jordan who’d score until you bowed down.

To become the next Jordan, Kobe had studied MJ’s game obsessively, mimicking his moves.

But in this Western Conference Finals, with a healthy Zack dominating through unmatched court presence, Kobe had to admit—whether he liked it or not—that Zack had shown every superstar a new way to rule the game.

It wasn’t Jordan’s way.

But Zack’s method proved his influence on the game had surpassed even Jordan’s.

Kobe wouldn’t bet against Zack leading the Lakers to a win over the Warriors if their roles were reversed.

So, to beat the Warriors in this series, Kobe knew he had to close the gap between their ace and the Lakers’ best.

Kobe’s never denied that Zack’s the better player.

But beating a guy like Zack? That’s one of the fires that keeps Kobe going.

Just like he studied Jordan to become Jordan—and surpass him.

Even now, with Kobe no longer in his prime, as long as he can still play, he’ll keep climbing toward that mountaintop.

Second quarter, just two minutes in, Kobe asked Jackson to put him back in.

To keep the Warriors in control during lineup rotations, Zack had played the entire first quarter, leading a mixed unit against the Lakers’ starters while setting up Nash for a staggered run later.

Kobe wasn’t about to let the Warriors capitalize on Zack’s setup for Nash to pull away during the rotation phase.

"I can’t match his ability to lead a team," Kobe told Jackson. "He can take a bunch of bench guys and go toe-to-toe with our starters—something I can’t do."

"To beat the Warriors, I’ve gotta stay on the floor."

Jackson, feeling the weight of Kobe’s words, looked at him with conviction and said, "We’re counting on you, Kobe."

At the Staples Center, Kobe was the first to check back in.

Warriors coach Mike Malone, channeling his inner Zen Master, stayed calm and held off until the final five minutes of the second quarter to bring Zack back.

On CCTV, as Zack returned, commentator Zhang Weiping said, "Mike Malone’s finally putting Zack back in. Man, he’s in no rush at all!"

Why would Malone rush?

Truth be told, Malone believed the Warriors had already built a massive lead in the first half.

It might not show on the scoreboard yet, but as the game wore on, Malone was confident Zack’s endless stamina would carry the Warriors to victory.

On the court, as soon as Zack checked in, he shook Odom with a hesitation move.

Spotting Pau Gasol already in position to contest, Zack stepped back outside, pulled up, and fired a three to get a feel for his shot.

Swish!

Courtside, LeBron’s face lit up with envy at Zack’s effortless, technically pristine shot.

Compared to his own infamous, streaky "Bald Lion" jumper, Zack’s ability to shoot at will made LeBron feel the unbridgeable technical gap between them.

But watching Zack’s dominance up close also rebuilt LeBron’s shattered confidence.

Because, aside from the technical gulf, LeBron realized he could do most of what Zack was doing on the court.

"Rich, you know what? This game’s got me believing in myself again," LeBron told Rich Paul. "It’s shown me that if I can team up with the right guys, I can prove myself all over again!"

LeBron knew he didn’t need to match every single thing Zack could do.

And with the NBA set to tweak its traveling and gather-step rules next season, ushering in an era that rewards offense even more, LeBron figured the technical gap between him and Zack would only shrink.

So, as long as he kept honing his all-time great athleticism and found teammates to cover his weaknesses, he could take a different path to catch Zack.

Meanwhile, at the Staples Center, Zack had no clue that his return from injury wasn’t just inspiring Kobe—it was indirectly boosting LeBron’s confidence too.

Right before halftime, with the Lakers holding the final possession, Kobe took control.

Old man Bell moved to double Kobe with eight seconds left on the clock—a perfectly timed and executed trap.

But Kobe, burning to go head-to-head with Zack, spun out of the double, leaned back, and launched.

Swish!

The Staples Center erupted as Kobe’s high-difficulty three at the buzzer lit up the arena.

But as the home crowd rose, chanting "MVP" for Kobe, his early shot left the Warriors with 2.4 seconds to answer.

Spotting Curry’s eager look for a half-court heave, Zack didn’t hesitate, firing the inbounds pass to him.

Then, as Stephen Curry chucked the ball from the Warriors’ half toward the Lakers’ hoop, the fans who’d been screaming "MVP" for Kobe fell silent.

Swish!

It was Curry’s half-court Showtime.

He’d just nailed an unbelievable buzzer-beating three from the Warriors’ end!

Halftime: 68-65.

Thanks to Curry’s miracle shot, the Warriors headed into the break with a three-point lead.

Kobe, who’d poured in 25 points, 8 rebounds, and 7 assists in the first half, slumped into the locker room, gasping for air, unable to fathom why luck was on the Warriors’ side.

No question, Curry’s half-court heave was a dagger to the Lakers’ morale.

But was it really just luck?

Zack didn’t know.

What he did know was that if it happened again, he’d still pass to Curry.

After all, it’s a no-lose deal: if Curry hits, Zack gets an assist, and Curry gets a highlight-reel half-court three.

If he misses? Well, under today’s rules, it’s just another missed three on Curry’s stat sheet.

"Nice work, Stephen!" Zack said with a grin, ruffling Curry’s hair in the locker room.

Curry, who’d only hit that half-court shot in the first half, let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He’d thought Zack might call him out for bricking all those open looks earlier.

"He hasn’t forgotten those missed shots," Draymond Green said, pulling Curry aside and keeping others away from Zack. "He’s just in that mode that’s all his own."

After a pause, Draymond explained to a puzzled Curry, "I’m telling you, from the second he walked back into this locker room, he’s already in ’The Zone.’"

...

Chapter 192: When a God Descends on Staples

Phil Jackson’s read on Zack was spot-on.

After halftime, the Lakers had the ball. Kobe, laser-focused on winning, darted past his defender and found Pau Gasol cutting along the opposite wing. Pau caught the pass and finished with a fluid layup in one seamless motion.

68-67.

Then, Curry brought the ball up for the Warriors and quickly fed Zack. Before Curry could even process what happened, Zack—swarmed by a double-team from Lamar Odom and Kobe—flicked the ball back to him in a way Curry barely saw.

How’d he even make that pass? And so perfectly? Curry thought, stunned.

Swish! After a scoreless first half, aside from a long-range three, Curry’s wide-open triple finally got his scoring column moving again.

The jumbotron replay revealed the magic: Zack had used his elbow to sneak the ball behind his back, threading it through Kobe’s legs to Curry’s hands.

On CCTV, commentator Zhang Weiping wiped sweat from his brow. "Zack’s got some serious guts pulling that off!"

"He doesn’t make mistakes," Warriors assistant coach Jack said confidently from the bench. "The elbow pass was just his delivery method, but I’m sure he had the whole play mapped out before he even made it."

Back on the court, it was the Lakers’ turn. Kobe called for a high pick-and-roll and found Pau Gasol again. But just as Pau tried to repeat the last play, Zack swooped in like a divine intervention, pinning the "Kobe-and-Pau" connection to the backboard.

From delaying Kobe on the pick-and-roll to sprinting back to swat Pau’s shot, Zack was a wall of impossibility standing in the Lakers’ way.

In the Warriors’ paint, Rasheed Wallace secured the loose ball and immediately tossed it to Zack, who stormed across halfcourt. The Lakers’ defense was quick to retreat, but Zack, locked in, spotted a gap in their coverage near the wing. With one hand gripping the ball, he launched it skyward.

Heads turned. Rasheed Wallace, his signature braids flopping in the air, soared for the alley-oop.

BOOM!

From the Warriors’ bench, Steve Nash, a maestro of playmaking himself, couldn’t help but marvel. "His vision, his reads, his passing—it makes most defenses irrelevant."

Nash didn’t want to say Zack could be in the GOAT conversation for assists alone, but after a full season together, he felt like he could play until 45 with Zack running the show. All Nash had to do was get the ball across halfcourt, hand it to Zack, and watch him orchestrate one high-quality possession after another.

"You’d better bring out whatever tricks you’ve got left," Zack said to a silent Kobe on the court. "Otherwise, the score we’ve got to settle is about to get a little longer."

Kobe bit his lip, fighting to stay calm. His history against Zack had taught him that keeping his cool was the only way to beat the best player of this era.

No doubt, the older, wiser "No. 24 Kobe" was a far cry from the hotheaded, long-haired "No. 8 Kobe." Fewer hairs, fewer hot-headed moments.

On the perimeter, Kobe, in a triple-threat stance, patiently scanned the floor and found Marc Gasol battling Troy Murphy in the post. At the top of the key, Marc sank a long two-point jumper. Swish.

Just like in Zack’s memory, despite his sturdy frame, Marc Gasol was a stretch big at heart. But his clean midrange shot drew a grumble from the Warriors’ bench—specifically from the "second-best center in history."

"Why’s he only pounding the paint when I’m guarding him?" Kwame Brown griped. "But against Troy, he’s out here shooting jumpers?"

Sure, even a slimmed-down Brown had more bulk than Murphy. But post play isn’t just about size. Known as "Golden State’s Bill Laimbeer," Murphy had a knack for holding his own in the paint. If Marc couldn’t bully him right away, Murphy’s pesky tricks threw him off. Brown? Against any decent center, Zack took over, so Brown couldn’t match Murphy’s defensive impact on Marc. And offensively? Murphy’s floor-spacing was light-years ahead of Brown’s.

On the court, Zack called for a Murphy screen, drawing both Gasol brothers’ attention before firing a slick behind-the-back pass to Murphy.

Swish. Murphy buried the three.

On CCTV, Zhang Weiping said, "Murphy’s three-point shooting is lethal. If Yi Jianlian could develop a shot like that, he’d never be out of a job in this league."

Murphy’s career three-point percentage hovered near 39%, and even as his shot volume grew later in his career, his accuracy stayed sharp. Zack knew the "soft big" label stuck to Murphy in his past life not because of his skill but because, as a role player, he couldn’t control his career’s trajectory. Plus, the Warriors’ big contract to Murphy after his rookie deal made him too expensive for non-rich teams.

In this timeline, with Murphy cashing in during the early years of Zack’s cheap rookie contract, he was living the dream: big money, championship rings. Who could call him anything but a winner?

On the Warriors’ bench, Mike Dunleavy Jr. leaned over to Grant Hill. "You know, Troy always says if he could go back, he’d let Messiah punch him a few more times."

Hill, who’d heard the stories of Zack’s early days with the team, chuckled. "If taking a few punches means a career like that, I’d sign up for a beating too."

Back on the court, with the Warriors’ defense locked in under Zack’s command, Kobe felt that familiar suffocating pressure. Without Zack, the Lakers could steamroll the other four Warriors with raw talent. But with Zack leading them, whether it was Murphy, Curry, or Barnes, as long as they rallied around him, they gave the Lakers fits.

For a fleeting moment, Kobe wondered: if the Lakers had gone all-in to bring Zack’s talent to L.A. back then, would he already have more rings than Jordan by now?

But just as quickly, Kobe shook off the thought.

On the perimeter, refocusing, Kobe used a Marc Gasol screen at the top of the key and nailed a cold-blooded answer-ball three. The Staples Center faithful, still believing Kobe could lead them past the Warriors, erupted in deafening cheers.

Kobe’s stubborn pride might’ve briefly regretted not teaming up with Zack, but tonight, his only focus was winning.

On the Warriors’ next possession, Zack, who hadn’t bullied Odom in a while, called for the ball on the right wing. Seeing Odom momentarily distracted, Zack pounced, blowing past him in a flash.

The Gasol brothers had to clean up Odom’s mess in the paint. Zack, unbothered, barreled through Pau Gasol, and with Marc hanging on him, slammed the ball home from a few feet out.

Pointing to his reddened arm—slapped hard by Marc—Zack knew the "Zack Rule" had robbed him of an and-one. But instead of arguing with the refs or losing his cool, he just turned and walked away with a swagger.

Head referee Dan Crawford, perhaps feeling guilty, made it up on the next play. When Curry got lightly brushed by Battier on a cut to the basket, Crawford blew the whistle and sent Curry to the line. Zack knew it was compensation for the missed call, but watching Curry—his "whistle stand-in"—take the free throws felt... odd.

Curry sank both shots.

On the Lakers’ next possession, Kobe, trying to shake Wallace with a step-back, got stuffed by Zack at the rim.

"That’s where you’re no James," Zack taunted. "Brown’s step-back layups? Never blocked me."

Kobe just snorted, but Zack knew he’d gotten under his skin. For someone as obsessed with craft as Kobe, being told he was "less than James" was a dagger.

What Kobe didn’t know was that Zack’s jab was just about technique—Kobe hadn’t mastered the crab-dribble move to sneak an extra step or two after a step-back to avoid getting swatted.

On the Warriors’ counterattack, a distracted Odom forced Kobe to switch onto Zack.

"You think you can stop me alone?" Zack teased.

Kobe stayed silent, but as Zack started his move, Kobe lashed out with a sharp hand-check, a venomous strike from the Black Mamba.

It stung, but it didn’t faze Zack. He was determined to devour this snake.

BOOM! On the left side, Zack powered through Kobe, controlling his speed as he bulldozed to the rim, dunking with his left hand while Kobe clung to his arm.

This time, Crawford had to call the and-one.

"I told you," Zack said, staring down Kobe. "You alone? Not enough."

From the sideline, LeBron James, catching Kobe’s glare that screamed "I’d fight you right now," was reminded of countless painful moments. That was Zack: anyone who dared stand in his way got crushed.

If Kobe was L.A.’s hope, Zack was here to snuff it out.

At the line, Zack sank the free throw.

On the Lakers’ next possession, the battered Black Mamba dragged himself to the perimeter and drained a clutch three to keep L.A. alive.

"That’s Kobe!" roared Jack Nicholson, the Lakers’ courtside mascot and Hollywood legend, taunting Zack. "You’ll never break Kobe Bryant!"

Zack ignored him. He wasn’t one for trash talk off the court.

Seeing Odom sag off to stop his drive, Zack pulled back to the three-point line and splashed a jumper, shrugging at Nicholson as he jogged back. "So what? I’m walking over your corpses to the Finals."

In the third quarter, Kobe dropped another 14 points, finishing the frame with 39 points, 10 rebounds, and 9 assists. But the scoreboard told a brutal story for Lakers fans: 102-92, Warriors.

As much as it pained them, Lakers fans had to admit: even with Kobe playing out of his mind, they couldn’t overcome the Gundam on the other side—the one fulfilling his pregame promise to drop 60 if Kobe scored 50.

"Mike, I’m not sitting in the fourth," Zack told Coach Malone before the final quarter. "I’m not giving the Lakers any chance to catch up. You know we’re on the road tonight."

Malone, aware that only generous officiating kept Zack’s third-quarter total at "just" 47, nodded. "Got it. But if you’re tired, let me know. I’ll call a timeout."

After the break, neither Zack nor Kobe rested. Kobe knew a loss would bury the Lakers’ season. Zack feared that letting this chance slip could drag the series out longer than needed.

At Staples, the fourth quarter opened with Zack striking first. As he blew past Odom, Kobe and Battier collapsed on him. But to the crowd’s disbelief, Zack, surrounded by three defenders, muscled through for a graceful jumper that dropped.

In that moment, he was a god among men, showing the mortals in front of him that if he wanted something, nothing could stop him.

The Lakers answered with a Kobe floater, briefly lifting their spirits. But before the crowd could cheer, Zack shook Odom, stepped back, and buried a 45-degree three that doused L.A.’s comeback hopes.

The pattern repeated all second half.

From the Lakers’ bench, Phil Jackson felt Zack was redefining basketball itself. "We’ve tried every possible way to stop him," the Zen Master said, exasperated. "But he just keeps breaking our defense."

Jackson didn’t want to admit the Warriors were winning because of Zack alone, but deep down, he knew it was true.

On the Warriors’ next possession, Nash brought the ball up and handed it to Zack without a second thought. Nash didn’t need to worry about running the offense or calling plays—just trust Zack to end the game and play his role as a point guard.

Swish! On the left wing, facing an early double-team, Zack pulled up and drained a jumper in one smooth motion.

"Three guys couldn’t stop me earlier," he said, grinning at Kobe and Odom. "You think two’s enough now? Why don’t you try all five?"

The unstoppable Zack single-handedly stretched the Warriors’ lead from 10 to 17. And to the despair of Lakers fans, as time ticked down, their team showed no signs of closing the gap.

The refs had given the Lakers plenty of help—10 free throws in the first six minutes of the fourth alone. But the Basketball God himself put the game to bed.

On the next possession, Zack took the ball again. Facing a broken Odom, he drew another double from Battier and Kobe. Spotting his escape route early, Zack spun past Battier, dismantling the trap in an instant.

Charging into the paint with the Gasol brothers waiting, Zack didn’t hesitate. Every fan in Staples Center widened their eyes—this was a true one-against-five moment.

Like a modern-day warrior storming the battlefield, Zack smashed through the Lakers’ defense. And with a windmill dunk that shredded the Gasol brothers, he painted a masterpiece that would live in history.

On TNT, Charles Barkley declared to North America, "Let’s congratulate the Golden State Warriors! In this do-or-die battle, Messiah himself dunked the Lakers into oblivion!"

Chapter 193: The Only Path Forward—Become a Legend or Be Forgotten in Infamy

It’s over. It’s all over.

With Zack personally crushing the Lakers’ will to fight, Game 4 of the series, a pivotal moment that would shape the outcome, ended with the Warriors storming the Staples Center.

Final score: 128–110.

In the post-game press conference, Warriors head coach Mike Malone couldn’t wait to boast about Zack’s heroics that night.

"He dropped 61 points, 20 rebounds, 14 assists, 5 blocks, and 2 steals—what an incredible stat line!" Malone said, beaming with pride. "In the history of the NBA, no one’s ever put up a 60+20+10 game. But honestly, those numbers still don’t capture his true value out there!"

After a brief pause, Malone added, "His offense, his defense, his sheer willpower—trust me, the stats might tell you what kind of game Messiah played, but only we know how he’s leading us forward in his own unique way!"

"If a 60+20+10 performance from Messiah still doesn’t convince you he’s surpassed Michael Jordan, then all I can say is MJ should be thanking his lucky stars Messiah was born a decade later," Kwame Brown said bluntly. "If MJ and Messiah played in the same era, I have no doubt MJ would’ve ended up like Kobe did tonight."

"Honestly, this might be the easiest playoff run I’ve ever been on," two-time MVP Steve Nash admitted. "61 points, 20 rebounds, 14 assists? I’m gonna have to fire up NBA 2K and see if I can match that stat line."

Zack always seems to do something spectacular at the Staples Center. But compared to his past performances, his 60+ triple-double in Game 4 of the Western Conference Finals carried a special weight, both in significance and impact.

The entire North American sports world was buzzing after the game.

Returning from injury, Zack once again proved he’s the best player of this era. With a dazzling stat line, he led the Warriors to dismantle the defending champion Lakers on their home court.

With a 3–1 series lead, no one doubted the Warriors would trample the Lakers’ corpse on their way to the Finals.

Lakers head coach Phil Jackson said helplessly after the game, "You saw it—Kobe played his best game in two years, dropping 48 points, 11 rebounds, and 11 assists. But even that wasn’t enough to stop them. It just shows they deserved this win more than we did."

If time could rewind, Jackson would probably tell a younger Michael Jordan, still being bullied by the Pistons, why they could only stop him by trying to beat him into submission.

After experiencing Game 4 of the Western Conference Finals firsthand, Jackson finally understood how Chuck Daly must have felt back then.

When a god is on the other side, mere mortals are destined to look small. No matter how fiercely mortals resist, the god will show them, in ways they’ve never seen, the vast chasm between divine and human.

Take Zack’s one-on-five windmill dunk that obliterated the Lakers’ fighting spirit. Even after the game, that dunk—arguably the best of Zack’s career—still left Jackson’s weathered heart reeling.

Kobe didn’t take any post-game interviews after Game 4.

LeBron James, who witnessed Zack dismantle the Lakers in person, became even more convinced he needed to make a major decision this summer.

Zack had ascended to the throne of basketball divinity.

LeBron knew he needed stronger teammates and a team unafraid of the luxury tax to compete in this new era. Unfortunately, no matter how much Cleveland’s owner Dan Gilbert was willing to spend, the Cavaliers couldn’t provide that.

So, LeBron had to hit the free-agent market to find a team capable of challenging Zack.

Leaving Cleveland might mean losing his roots. But staying in Cleveland, LeBron knew, could cost him everything.

---

The next day, Game 5 of the Western Conference Finals shifted to Oracle Arena.

Kobe and the Lakers, unwilling to bow out, put up a fierce fight in Oakland. Zack, struggling with his shot, had what might’ve been his worst offensive performance of the playoffs.

Unlike previous games where teammates shut him down, the Lakers in Game 5 capitalized on Zack’s cold shooting with a targeted sagging defense and interior double-teams to limit his drives.

This turned Zack into something like "Giannis facing an anti-Letter Armor." But "something like" means he still found a way to break the deadlock for the Warriors with his playmaking.

On the court, facing the Lakers’ relentless defense, Zack didn’t stubbornly keep shooting like a younger Kobe might have. Instead, he used his gravitational pull on the Lakers’ defense to create wide-open looks for his teammates.

Back at Oracle, Stephen Curry was the biggest beneficiary, going 9-for-15 from the field, 6-for-9 from three, and 12-for-12 from the free-throw line, finishing with 36 points, 4 rebounds, and 2 assists.

This version of Curry is practically Lady Luck’s favorite son. When Zack fights through the "Zack Rule" to carry the Warriors, the refs—who are usually friendly with him—seem to feel guilty for not calling fouls in his favor. Curry has officially become the designated whistle beneficiary for Zack.

Beyond Curry’s stellar night, during lineup rotations, an aging Nash taught young Monta Ellis a lesson with steady scoring and masterful control of the game’s flow. Under Nash’s leadership, the Warriors’ bench outscored the Lakers’ by a whopping 20 points.

Final score: 116–134.

The Warriors capped the Western Conference Finals with a dominant scoring display, eliminating the Lakers 4–1 and returning to the Finals stage for the first time in two years.

The Lakers, fresh off last year’s championship, could only accept their fate despite their reluctance. Kobe felt he’d given everything in this series. Starting from Game 3, he’d tried every trick to boost his impact.

But even a player as great as Kobe couldn’t bridge the talent gap between himself and Zack.

Sure, Kobe, playing as the team’s primary ball-handler, filled up the stat sheet every night. But as Mike Malone said, stats don’t fully capture Zack’s true value.

Take defense, for example.

The Warriors can build a complete defensive system around Zack. But the Lakers? Their interior players’ physical advantages make them better suited to anchor a team’s defense. No matter how hard Kobe plays on that end, his defensive impact can’t match Zack’s.

In the NBA’s long history, the only team to win a championship with a perimeter player as the defensive anchor was the Chicago Bulls. Even then, the Bulls couldn’t rely on Jordan alone to build their defense.

Jordan’s one-on-one defense was elite, but he couldn’t single-handedly hold up the team’s defense like Hakeem Olajuwon did in his prime.

There’s a reason why, in Zack’s previous life, Bulls players later criticized The Last Dance. As Scottie Pippen himself put it: "If Michael Jordan was that great, he must’ve had at least three or four rings before we joined him, right?"

Sadly, before Pippen and his teammates came along, Jordan’s ring count was zero. No matter how tough the old GOAT’s talk was, he couldn’t argue with that.

"Congrats," said Marc Gasol, a Zack fanboy, with tears in his eyes after Game 5. "The championship is yours this year. I’ll be rooting for you from my TV!"

Zack accepted Gasol’s well-wishes and comforted him, saying, "The future’s yours, Marc."

Gasol clenched his fist. "Next season, I’ll prove myself," he said. Then, glancing at Kwame Brown passing by, he added, "I won’t let those nobodies make people think any random guy can call himself the West’s second-best center."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Brown, feeling deeply insulted, said to Zack after Gasol walked away.

Zack quickly calmed him down, but Brown, still fuming, held up three fingers. "I’m about to win my third ring! Once Shaq retires, I’ll be the active center with the most championships in the NBA! These damn young centers better learn to respect me! I need respect! Respect! Respect!"

Knowing the only way to cool Brown off was to change the subject, Zack said with a chuckle, "There’s a party later. You in?"

"Hell yeah, I’m in!" Brown replied.

Having failed to earn Gasol’s respect in the series, Brown made up for it by stealing the show at the Finals-qualifying party that night.

With the celebration behind them, Zack turned his focus to the East.

While the Warriors clinched their Finals berth in just five games, the Eastern Conference Finals between the top-seeded Celtics (outside of the eliminated Cavaliers) and the Bobcats were a bloodbath.

In the semifinals, the Alvin Gentry-led Celtics faced a tough challenge from the Magic. It wasn’t until Game 5 that the Celtics, powered by Paul Pierce’s heroic return from an ankle injury, tipped the scales.

Like Zack’s own story years ago, Pierce’s decision to play through pain not only inspired the Celtics but also led to clutch shots despite hobbling on one leg.

Pierce’s grit in that Game 5 stood in stark contrast to Dwight Howard, who had a chance to swing the series for the Magic with free throws but missed six straight in the clutch—while smiling.

Post-game, Orlando’s media unleashed a firestorm on Howard. They couldn’t fathom why he was grinning like a winner after blowing the game.

Orlando fans could handle a loss, but Howard’s carefree smile after bricking crucial free throws sent them into a collective meltdown.

"Dwight has no shame! Can a player this irresponsible really lead us to a championship?" one outlet raged.

"We all know Dwight’s bad at free throws, but how can he keep smiling after missing game-changing shots?" another wrote.

"I’m done! Trade Dwight now! He’s just a giant baby who’ll never grow up!" screamed a third.

After Game 5, Howard was so battered by the media and fans that he shut down. The Celtics easily dispatched the broken-spirited, Howard-led Magic in Game 6, setting up an Eastern Conference Finals matchup with the Bobcats, who’d stunned everyone by taking down the Cavaliers and Hawks.

The Bobcats’ playoff run was the stuff of legend. In the first round, they became the first team in the seven-game era to pull off a Black Eight miracle. Then, against their old rivals, the Hawks, they rode their momentum to their best postseason finish in franchise history.

Despite the experts and fans favoring the Celtics, the Bobcats—united under Ron Artest—tied the series 2–2 after four games.

The only downside? Their owner, Michael Jordan, was used as a punching bag by Artest to motivate the team.

"We’re not playing for that cold-blooded capitalist!" Artest declared. "We’re playing for ourselves and for Charlotte’s fans!"

"We’re in the Eastern Conference Finals! One more step, and we’re in the Finals!"

"We’ll show that capitalist why we’re worth our paychecks!"

Fueled by this fire, the young Bobcats played with ferocious energy. In Game 5, they pushed the Celtics to overtime. If not for Pierce’s clutch shot under pressure, the Bobcats might’ve pulled off another miracle at TD Garden.

Just when everyone thought the Celtics would close it out, the Bobcats struck back in Game 6 at Time Warner Cable Arena. Brandon Roy hit a highly controversial game-winning ultra-long three.

The controversy? The clock didn’t start until after Roy caught the ball, and replays showed he couldn’t have gotten the shot off with just 0.8 seconds left. But since neither the refs nor the Celtics noticed anything amiss in real-time, the shot stood, forcing a Game 7.

Could the Bobcats keep their Cinderella run alive and reach the Finals?

Zack, as a neutral observer, didn’t care if they did. But he was thrilled with their chaos in the East, as it dragged the formidable Celtics into a grueling series.

Zack knew that even if the Celtics won Game 7, they’d be physically drained—an invisible advantage for the Warriors heading into the Finals.

On May 30, Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Finals tipped off at TD Garden.

The Bobcats, both made and broken by Ron Artest, suffered a devastating blow early when Artest was ejected for a flagrant-2 elbow to Al Horford’s head.

Though Artest insisted it was an accident, the ejection threw the Bobcats into disarray, ending their legendary playoff run.

Post-game, fans and media lamented the Bobcats’ Game 7 loss. After six games of relentless fight, they’d shown they could pull off a miracle.

Zack knew Artest would regret the ejection, but his focus was on the Celtics, who were coming to challenge the Warriors in the Finals.

Sure, the Bobcats’ resistance gave the Warriors advantages in timing and rest. But Zack, never one to pop champagne at halftime, wasn’t underestimating this Celtics team.

With just one series left, the Warriors—who won 75 games in the regular season—could cap off their dream season. But until that final step, they couldn’t afford to assume they’d already won.

In the NBA, only the champion gets the flowers and praise when the dust settles.

"The runner-up is always the biggest loser!" Zack told his team before the Finals. "And a 75-win runner-up? That’s the worst kind of loser!"

"We’ve got one path forward: win the championship. Anything less, and we’ll all be laughingstocks, forgotten in infamy!"

---

Chapter 194: Both Teams Have Reasons They Can’t Afford to Lose—A Gift from Fate!

Since Tim Duncan headed east, this marks the Celtics’ third straight trip to the NBA Finals.

Before the Finals tipped off, ESPN columnist Tim Bontemps took a moment to look back at the Celtics’ Finals history over the past two years. In the 2007-08 season, the newly formed Big Three fell 2-4 to the Supersonics, serving as the backdrop for the Western Conference’s new powerhouse. In 2008-09, after a grueling seven-game war with the Lakers, the Celtics watched their arch-rivals, led by Kobe Bryant, complete their resurgence.

"The Celtics are, without a doubt, the NBA’s most tragic team in recent years," Bontemps wrote. "This is their third consecutive Finals appearance. If they don’t win the championship, they’ll cement their status as the league’s ultimate runners-up for three straight years."

No question about it—stepping onto the Finals stage again, this Celtics team, led by Duncan, Paul Pierce, and Vince Carter, is hungrier than ever to hoist the Larry O’Brien Trophy and break their second-place curse.

Even if their opponent is the 75-win Warriors.

"We’ve fought our way here with a burning desire for the championship," Pierce said before the Celtics headed to Oakland. "No matter who’s standing in our way, we’re going to beat them and bring that damn trophy back for our fans who’ve stuck with us through it all!"

The Celtics are desperate to end their runner-up streak with a title.

And the Warriors? If they don’t win it all this year, no matter how dazzling their regular-season record was, they’ll go down as the biggest laughingstock in NBA history.

June 3, 2010.

The NBA Finals kicked off with Game 1, and the basketball world’s eyes were glued to Oracle Arena. Courtside, even someone as good-looking as David Beckham, who could give Zack a run for his money, only got a few seconds of camera time. With Hollywood stars, sports icons, and high-society elites packed into the stands, the broadcast director had too many VIPs to spotlight.

On TNT, Kenny Smith, warming up the pregame show, said, "Charles, what do you make of Shaq—our soon-to-be colleague next season—saying he wishes both teams could lose this Finals?"

This season, Shaquille O’Neal wrapped up his retirement tour with the Knicks, calling it quits a year earlier than in Zack’s memory. It was a smart move. After dragging the Knicks back to the playoffs, Shaq salvaged some of his historical standing, which had taken a beating from Zack’s relentless on-court dominance. Retiring now was the perfect exit strategy—because if he didn’t, younger fans would only remember him as the guy Zack toyed with in mismatches.

But even with his new TNT gig lined up, Shaq still had a bone to pick with Duncan and Zack. If Duncan won another ring before his career was done, he’d surpass Shaq in championships. Shaq couldn’t stomach that. Worse, he really didn’t want to see Zack lead the Warriors to a title in unstoppable fashion, cementing his place atop the basketball pantheon.

If it were up to Shaq, he’d want Duncan and Zack—his old nemeses—to crash and burn together on the court.

"Shaq’s being a bit petty," Charles Barkley said, weighing in. "As a veteran, he shouldn’t be throwing a tantrum just because the younger guys are outshining him. Me? I’m never worried about the next generation passing me up. I just want to see them keep pushing for the top."

Truth be told, Barkley wouldn’t mind if Zack surpassed Michael Jordan today. That way, the world would recognize him—Charles Barkley—as Zack’s true predecessor, knocking that "false god" with six rings down to second place in history.

Who’s the world’s consensus Barkley heir? Zack himself, obviously.

"I’ve never thought I’d be the next Michael Jordan," Zack said before the Finals, brushing off the inevitable MJ comparisons. "I’ve always believed I’m one of a kind."

When pressed on which legend’s style came closest to his, Zack added, "You know, I’ve been modeling my game after Charles Barkley since college. And Oscar Robertson? He’s the one who helped me become the most versatile player in NBA history. So, I’d say my style’s like a taller version of Barkley mixed with Robertson."

Zack’s comments sent Barkley into a frenzy of excitement. Especially when Zack doubled down, saying he’d been emulating Barkley since his college days. Right then and there, Barkley made a silent vow: for the rest of his life, he’d fight to defend Zack’s claim as the greatest ever.

Any analyst or reporter trying to argue that Jordan was on Zack’s level? They’d become Barkley’s sworn enemies, destined to be dismantled. Jordan? What a joke. Was he even worthy of shining the shoes of Barkley’s noble successor?

At Oracle Arena, amid waves of gold-clad fans, the Warriors’ starting five—led by Zack—took the floor: Zack, Troy Murphy, Rasheed Wallace, Trevor Bell, and Stephen Curry. The Warriors stuck with the strategy they’d used against the Lakers, with Steve Nash as the sixth man and Murphy starting alongside Zack to stretch the floor offensively.

The only tweak? Trevor Bell was back in the starting lineup for the Finals. With the Celtics boasting Pierce and Carter on the wings, the Warriors needed a dedicated defender to lock them down.

As the Warriors’ starters settled in, the Celtics’ starting five, led by Pierce, strode confidently to center court: Al Horford, Tim Duncan, Paul Pierce, Vince Carter, and Kelenna Dooling.

This season, Horford, who earned an All-Star nod as a reserve in the East, had taken a big leap. Historically, as a star big man who could guard LeBron James one-on-one even late in his career, Horford’s growth in his first three seasons made him one of the few bigs in the league capable of matching up with Zack.

Back in Zack’s second season, Jeff Van Gundy had said it best: to slow down the Warriors’ offense, you need someone who can hang with Zack one-on-one. Otherwise, if Zack creates a natural mismatch, your only defensive options are various zone coverages.

Before tip-off, Zack glanced at the Celtics’ bench. Unlike the past two years, when Doc Rivers would just yell "Come on, come on, let’s go!" or "Move, move!" at critical moments, the Celtics now had Alvin Gentry as head coach—a massive upgrade in Zack’s eyes.

In the Eastern Conference Semifinals, Gentry’s Celtics needed six games to get past the Magic. But this Magic team, with "St. Jack" Jackson and "Agent Zero" Arenas, was tougher than its historical counterpart. As for their seven-game slugfest with the Bobcats in the Eastern Conference Finals? Zack knew that miracle-run Bobcats team, which defied regular-season expectations, wasn’t one to underestimate. Plus, the Bobcats had a lineup that matched up well against Boston.

Ron Artest gave Pierce—who was still nursing an ankle injury—fits. Zach Randolph was a matchup nightmare for Duncan. And Brandon Roy? He tore through Boston’s backcourt like it was a morning jog. If not for Gentry’s sharp coaching and Artest’s ejection for a flagrant-2 in Game 7, Zack thought the Bobcats might’ve pulled off the upset.

If Doc Rivers were still coaching, this Celtics team might’ve drowned in the East’s tougher-than-usual waters.

"The Warriors have a clear edge in energy reserves for this series," Kenny Smith said before the tip. "They got nearly ten days of rest before the Finals."

Barkley chimed in, "That’s the luck they earned with their dominance. They swept the West with an invincible run, so Celtics fans can’t complain about the Warriors getting more rest."

Barkley hit the nail on the head. Why did the Warriors have every advantage in this Finals? Their 75-win regular season locked up home-court advantage against any opponent. And their superior stamina? Well, as Barkley put it to Smith, "Kenny, if the Celtics were in the West, do you think they could’ve steamrolled the Mavericks and Lakers like the Warriors did? But flip it around—I bet the Warriors could’ve cruised to the Finals even in the East!"

On the court, Zack won the tip for the Warriors. Curry brought the ball up, and with the Celtics still settling in, he quickly fed Zack. Facing Horford, Zack glided through a crossover, pulled up, and drained a jumper.

Swish. The Warriors fired the first shot in their return to the Finals after two years. 0-2.

On the other end, with Horford handed off to Murphy, Zack zeroed in on Duncan. Barkley marveled, "He attacks the toughest matchup on offense and guards the other team’s best big on defense. Only the Warriors know how much security Messiah gives them on both ends."

The Celtics’ opening play typically ran through their bigs. On the wing, seeing Duncan out of position, Pierce swung the ball to Carter, who dumped it inside to Horford. While back-to-the-basket isn’t Horford’s bread and butter, against the Warriors’ softer interior defender, Murphy, he had to take on some paint duties. Horford spun and hit a hook shot. 2-2.

Murphy’s "Golden State Bill Laimbeer" reputation couldn’t hide his defensive flaws. For this series, Kwame Brown would’ve been a better matchup for Horford defensively. But after consulting his assistants, Warriors coach Mike Malone stuck with Murphy to pair with Zack for offensive spacing.

At the top of the key, using a Murphy screen, the Warriors’ human tank drew a help defender in Duncan. As Horford moved to pick up Zack again, Murphy smartly drifted away, opening space. Zack, locking eyes with Duncan, fired a no-look pass to Murphy, who was ready to shoot.

Swish. Murphy’s three-pointer dropped. 2-5.

"That’s Messiah," Barkley said on TNT. "If your defensive rotations can’t keep up with his rhythm, he’ll keep creating chances for his team."

On the court, Duncan took the blame for Horford. "My bad, I didn’t get through the screen quick enough. Next time, I’ll be faster to help."

Was it really Duncan’s fault? Of course not. But with Horford tasked with guarding Zack, the Celtics had agreed to give him extra emotional support to keep his confidence intact against the onslaught.

On Boston’s next possession, using a Dooling screen and Curry’s slow closeout, Pierce got a clean look to isolate Curry. This was Gentry’s game plan—exploit the Warriors’ weak point-guard defense. While other teams had tried similar tactics, the Celtics executed it differently. Barkley noticed that as Pierce and Dooling ran the pick-and-roll, Duncan locked onto Zack, preventing him from helping Curry or Wallace.

Gentry had clearly studied the Warriors’ past opponents and perfected the isolation play. "If you don’t neutralize Messiah’s help defense, it doesn’t matter how you set up your pick-and-roll—he’ll cover for his teammates with his defensive range," Gentry thought from the bench.

The Celtics’ six-game battle with the Magic drained their energy, sure, but it also taught them how to handle help-defense monsters like Zack and Dwight Howard. The key? Use Duncan’s star-level physicality to body up and block their help-defense paths.

Duncan did his job perfectly. Pierce, meanwhile, backed Curry down with ease, spinning for a jumper. Watching his former teammate Dell Curry’s son get manhandled, Vince Carter—whom Stephen Curry looked up to—couldn’t help but wince. But as they jogged back on defense, Carter gave Pierce a thumbs-up. That’s how you do it! Teach Dell’s kid how tough this league is!

For the next few possessions, Pierce and Carter took turns bullying Curry. Elbows, shoulders, bumps—they hammered the young guard, leaving him visibly frustrated.

"I’m trying my best," Curry said after another defensive breakdown, clutching his chest as Zack approached, expecting a tongue-lashing. "I know I’m letting the team down."

But Zack, placing a gentle hand on Curry’s shoulder, said softly, "You’re doing fine."

Huh? Curry blinked, confused.

Even after a full season together, Curry couldn’t wrap his head around Zack’s kindness. Normally, even a close teammate like Brown would catch heat for defensive lapses. But Zack didn’t just hold back—he encouraged Curry. "Don’t worry about those points. I know you’ll make them pay on offense."

Curry’s eyes lit up with determination. "I will. I promise."

On the Warriors’ next possession, Curry, using a slightly cheeky screen from Wallace, darted to the top of the key, caught the ball, and fired. The shot, fueled by frustration, clanged off the rim with a loud ping. But in the paint, Zack outmuscled Duncan, snagged the offensive rebound, and whipped it back to Curry.

Duncan couldn’t believe it. Is this guy even human? Zack’s core strength let him corral the ball mid-air with one arm and deliver a pinpoint pass to Curry on the perimeter.

Swish. Curry’s second-chance three dropped, and Oracle erupted. The fans, who used to grumble that Curry wasn’t worthy of his legendary jersey, showed their true colors—cheering like crazy.

"Stephen—Curry!" the crowd roared.

As they jogged back on defense, Curry bumped fists with Zack, feeling happier than ever. In that moment, he knew playing for the Warriors wasn’t just fate—it was a gift from destiny.

Chapter 195: The Art of Command

In the NBA, what does it mean to be a great conductor on the court?

As Murphy and Curry knocked down back-to-back threes, the Celtics’ defense started to stretch outward. Seizing the moment, Zack broke Al Horford’s ankles with a slick crossover on the wing.

Horford’s footing was already shaky after Zack’s first juke.

When Zack pulled the ball back and accelerated, Horford, who’d barely been keeping up, lost his balance completely.

From there, Zack had a clear path to the Celtics’ paint, finishing with an easy layup to put two points on the board for the Warriors.

Sure, pinpoint passing is a key part of orchestrating a team’s offense.

But compared to your average playmaker, in just half a quarter tonight, Zack showed the Celtics the ultimate art of command—controlling the opponent.

Early in the game, noticing the Celtics clogging the paint, Zack connected with Murphy on a no-look pass.

Then, seeing Boston’s defense still holding firm, Zack didn’t hesitate to call for Curry to run an off-ball three-point play.

And when the Celtics’ defense was forced to spread out, Zack took over, using his individual brilliance to score those two points for the Warriors.

Under Zack’s masterful direction, every Warriors possession caught the Celtics off guard, hitting them where they least expected it.

At the scorer’s table, Celtics coach Alvin Gentry called a timeout right after the official break to tweak his team’s defensive setup.

Because in the possession before the timeout, Zack had once again manipulated Boston’s defense, drawing attention to create an open corner three for Old Man Bell.

Sure, Bell’s offense and defense have slipped with age this season.

But as a career 40%-plus 3-and-D shooter, a wide-open corner three is still money in his hands.

Swish!

Bell’s three forced Gentry to burn another timeout.

But as he pulled out his whiteboard to draw up a new plan, Gentry’s mind went blank.

With Zack’s passing getting his teammates’ shots to fall, Gentry’s options were limited: either cut off Zack’s passing lanes or keep gambling that the rest of the Warriors would miss.

Back when Gentry studied the Lakers-Warriors Western Conference Finals, he couldn’t help but rag on Phil Jackson for being outcoached and Mike Malone for seeming tactically clueless. But now, he realized why the Lakers could only watch as Zack dominated: they couldn’t neutralize the Warriors’ supporting cast and lock down Zack at the same time.

And the Warriors’ offense, which looked like it relied solely on riding Zack’s coattails, was actually Malone’s carefully crafted best solution.

Now, the test was on Gentry.

He had to make a choice before the timeout ended to keep Zack from puppeteering Boston’s defense.

After the timeout, Gentry put his faith in Al Horford.

The game resumed.

Late in the first quarter, Jaylen Brown, subbing in for Murphy, stepped up to delay a play, saving "Private Stephen" Curry.

The Celtics’ isolation play fizzled, so they turned to Duncan posting up.

Zack locked in, giving his old college buddy some heavy physicality, forcing Duncan into an awkward, off-balance shot.

Too bad for Zack—Duncan’s casual-looking toss kissed the glass and dropped through the net.

"Lucky shot!"

"Luck’s part of the game!"

Compared to when Zack first entered the league, Duncan’s ability to grind out buckets has faded with time.

But in that moment, the ageless Stone Buddha reminded Zack of the 21-year-old rookie who once stood like a nobody in front of him.

Back on offense, Zack wanted to run a pick-and-roll to get Duncan switched onto him, hoping to answer with a bucket of his own.

But Boston, trusting Horford, executed crisp defensive rotations, giving Horford just enough time to recover and get back in position.

Zack saw it clearly: the Celtics wanted Horford to take him one-on-one.

No hesitation. Zack attacked from the top of the key.

This time, Horford, learning from earlier, held his ground against Zack’s bulldozing drive. Using the leeway allowed by the "Zack Rule," he even swiped at the ball.

On the court, Horford’s vicious chop came down hard, nearly taking the ball and Zack’s hand with it.

In an era where hand-checking’s a no-go, that move would’ve been a foul on anyone else.

But since it was Zack he was guarding, the refs, predictably, swallowed their whistles.

Still, in the next instant, not only did Horford fail to steal the ball, but Zack powered through the contact, muscled his way to the rim, and forced the ball in.

On TNT, Charles Barkley shook his head. "Al Horford did everything he possibly could, but even that’s not enough to stop Messiah from marching forward!"

Courtside, Gentry was floored.

Especially in the next possession.

When Zack, like a tiger, tore through Horford’s tough defense to shred Boston’s line again, Gentry couldn’t help but question whether sticking with Horford was the right call.

Horford’s a reliable guy, no doubt.

But tonight, he was up against Zack.

Gentry knew when you’re facing a god, no mortal—however dependable—can hold their own with just flesh and blood.

Luckily, Warriors coach Mike Malone, whom Gentry once called tactically clueless, bailed him out with a substitution.

At Oracle Arena, Nash checked in for Curry.

On the first play with Nash on the floor, the Warriors’ role players reconnected with Zack under Nash’s guidance.

More importantly, with Nash taking over playmaking duties, Zack’s scoring threat exploded exponentially.

At the top of the arc, after a "Zack-Nash pick-and-roll," Horford had to step up to hedge on Dooling, leaving him no chance to stick with Zack like before.

Zack rolled hard to the rim.

Nash, spotting it, fired a pinpoint bounce pass through traffic to connect with Zack.

Sure, Curry’s aggressive scoring makes him a great fit with Zack.

But when Zack wants to focus on scoring, Nash’s superior passing makes him the perfect sidekick.

In the Celtics’ paint, Zack threw down a one-handed slam.

At the scorer’s table, Gentry was forced to call another timeout.

After the break, Gentry swapped Vince Carter for Tony Allen.

As a defensive specialist, Tony "The Teacher" Allen made an immediate impact.

Taking over Dooling’s assignment on Nash, Allen didn’t even need Horford’s help to navigate around Zack’s screens, using his instincts and experience.

But on the flip side, Allen’s offensive limitations were glaring.

In this era, Allen’s game is mostly cutting to the rim for easy buckets. So when Boston went on offense, they were essentially playing 4-on-5.

The Warriors’ interior, guarded by Brown and Zack, eats up wing players with no shooting range for breakfast.

Cutting to the rim? Go ahead.

No matter how Allen sliced through, he’d eventually have to finish at the basket—where either Brown or Zack would be waiting, ready to protect the rim in transition.

Plus, with Carter—Boston’s best outside shooter—off the floor, the Warriors could shrink their defense, clogging the paint even more.

Quick question: where’s Allen supposed to cut to now?

In Zack’s eyes, using a guy like Allen effectively requires a tailored lineup.

Historically, Allen thrived in Memphis because Marc Gasol and Zach Randolph could space the floor, giving him room to cut.

But before Horford developed a reliable three-point shot, Boston can’t just clear the paint for Allen by pulling Duncan and Horford out to the perimeter—not when those two are the only ones who can challenge the Warriors’ interior.

On the Warriors’ bench, Malone, unaware Gentry once called him clueless, smirked. "Alvin Gentry’s making one bad move after another tonight. The Celtics are falling apart—this game’s ours!"

The first half proved Malone right.

Halftime: 53-65.

The Warriors led by 12.

In Malone’s view, Gentry’s biggest mistake was obsessing over stopping the Warriors’ offense.

Sure, "defense wins championships" is the NBA’s oldest cliché.

But in the Western Conference Finals, even Phil Jackson gave up on beating this Warriors team through defense alone.

The Celtics need solid defense, no question.

But if Gentry thought he could drag the Warriors into a gritty, trench-warfare slugfest like last year’s Finals, Malone figured he was dreaming.

"Times have changed," Malone said during the break. "And we’re the ones setting the pace!"

If the old NBA was like World War I’s trench warfare, today’s game, with rule changes favoring offense, has evolved into World War II’s fast-paced, mobile battles.

Defense will always matter.

But with shooters hitting from deeper and more accurately, and every rule tweak tilting toward offense, Malone knew the NBA had quietly entered a new era.

After halftime, Gentry, realizing defense alone wouldn’t beat the Warriors, leaned into his offensive expertise.

Under his adjustments, Boston sped up the pace and boldly brought in Eddie House—a one-trick pony who does nothing but shoot threes—to create space for the rest of the team.

In Zack’s memory, House is like a proto-Steve Kerr, an offensive sparkplug. Truth is, Gentry wasn’t trying to trap the Warriors in a defensive grind, as Malone assumed.

But Zack’s court presence was far beyond what Gentry had planned for.

For a first-time Finals coach like Gentry, it was inevitable he’d get flustered with rotations and game management.

Let’s be real: if Gentry had a card like Zack in his deck, would he look this outmatched against Malone?

Take the third quarter, for example. As the Celtics started to gain momentum, Malone didn’t need to overthink like Gentry.

He just called a timeout, gave Zack a knowing look, and let him take care of business.

On the court, Warriors’ possession.

This time, with Horford bear-hugging Zack, even the refs—who’ve been giving Zack the short end of the whistle—had to blow the call.

But as the whistle sounded, Gentry, courtside, witnessed a scene that crushed his spirit.

Zack, like a prime Shaq, powered through with Horford still draped on him, slamming the ball home with authority.

"Al went for the foul!" Gentry groaned, exasperated. "If he can score through that, what are we supposed to do?"

In that moment, Gentry’s frustration stood in stark contrast to Malone’s calm, collected vibe on the Warriors’ bench.

At the free-throw line, Zack sank the and-one, then, on the next defensive possession, flew out to the perimeter to swat House’s shot into the stands.

At Oracle Arena, with one play on offense and one on defense, Zack once again proved why he’s the NBA’s most dominant force today.

And Gentry? He was losing it. "One second he’s under the basket, the next he’s out on the three-point line! Are we playing an alien tonight?"

Gentry’s meltdown lasted until the final buzzer.

Final score: 112-124.

Zack, who’d been blowing Gentry’s mind all night, finished with 45 points, 16 rebounds, 10 assists, 4 blocks, and 2 steals.

Postgame, when Warriors coach Mike Malone said the Celtics lost because of poor coaching while the Warriors won thanks to his sharp game plan, Gentry—who rarely gets into it with other coaches—snapped back, "Can someone tell me what Mike Malone’s actual strategy was out there?"

"Just give the ball to Messiah, right? And he’s got the nerve to say the Warriors won because of his coaching?"

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