"Beep, beep!"
Carlisle called a timeout.
This next possession was crucial for the Mavericks. They had to score if they wanted any chance of turning the game around.
They needed to draw up the play carefully.
On the bench, however, Nowitzki approached Carlisle on his own and said seriously, "Coach, give me the final possession. I'll make it.
"I'll help us win this game.
"We're not stopping here."
Carlisle froze.
He knew how badly Nowitzki wanted to win, but asking for the ball himself at such a critical moment was a first.
And it was more than simply demanding the final shot. It showed just how confident Nowitzki was.
Confident that he would score.
Confident that he could lead the Mavericks to a comeback.
"Alright!"
Carlisle agreed without hesitation.
At a moment like this, if he couldn't trust the "German Wunderkind," then who could he trust?
The timeout soon ended.
The final possession began.
Marion inbounded to Kidd, who made no attempt to rush. There was plenty of time. The important thing was to execute properly and get a good shot.
24 seconds.
17 seconds.
11 seconds.
With 10 seconds remaining, Nowitzki moved up toward the perimeter. At the same time, Marion smartly got in Blake's way.
George stepped up to guard Nowitzki.
"Thump, thump, thump!"
Nowitzki dribbled slowly, lowering his center of gravity as if preparing to drive.
A few seconds later, Kidd suddenly came up again and screened George.
Nowitzki burst to his right.
From the right side of the arc, a full step beyond the three-point line, he confidently rose and fired a deep three.
Curry rushed over to contest, though at that point it was little more than psychological pressure.
He immediately turned to watch the ball spinning through the air, desperately hoping it would miss.
If it missed, the Suns would win the series and advance to the Finals.
But...
"Swish!"
The crisp sound of the net rang out.
The ball dropped straight through.
It was good.
Another ridiculous make.
Nowitzki had been terrifyingly accurate tonight.
"BOOM!"
The arena erupted.
With that three-pointer, the Mavericks erased their 2-point deficit and took a 1-point lead.
The Suns had only 10.3 seconds left.
"Beep, beep!"
Gentry called timeout.
...
"That was huge!"
In the broadcast studio, Mike Breen couldn't help clapping as he exclaimed, "With the Mavericks backed into a corner, Nowitzki has finally exploded.
"He knocks down that three, and tonight he's up to 51 points, surpassing the 50-point playoff career high he set in 2006.
"When players are pushed to the brink, they can unleash incredible energy. That's part of what makes basketball so special.
"And now, with that three from Nowitzki, the Mavericks have taken a 1-point lead and thrown all the pressure back onto the Suns."
"Exactly."
Van Gundy tapped the desk and nodded. "Nowitzki has been incredible tonight, and his scoring duel with Blake has been spectacular.
"Fifty-one points.
"That alone tells you how great he's been.
"But don't forget, Blake already has 52 tonight, along with 10 three-pointers!
"There are still 10.3 seconds left.
"He could do it again, just like in their last matchup, and steal this game at the very end."
"Absolutely."
And it wasn't only the two commentators thinking that way.
Every Suns fan in US Airways Center was thinking the same thing.
If Nowitzki couldn't be stopped, then the Suns would answer with offense.
Let Blake end the game himself.
...
On the Suns' bench, Gentry held his playboard and addressed the players.
"This series has already been dramatic enough. The Mavericks keep getting these 'X-factors' to step up, and there have been too many unpredictable twists.
"Tonight, whether it's a two or a three, let's make this final possession count and end the series right here."
"Yeah!"
The players responded in unison.
Every extra game meant more danger. They were just as desperate to win tonight and secure their place in the Finals.
"Coach."
Blake looked at Gentry and said calmly, "Give me the last possession. Let me finish it.
"I'll make it."
He had just said almost exactly what Nowitzki had said moments earlier.
The same absolute confidence.
Gentry paused, then smiled.
"Alright. The game-winner is yours."
Not simply, "The possession is yours."
The game-winner was his.
That alone showed just how much Gentry trusted Blake in the clutch, and how much faith he had in Blake's ability to deliver when the game was on the line.
"Yeah!"
"Give it to Blake!"
"Exactly! Let our leader finish this!"
The players entrusted the final shot to Blake as well, placing the decisive moment in the hands of the one player they trusted most, their team's lone cornerstone and leader.
"Beep, beep!"
The timeout ended.
10.3 seconds remained.
One possession to decide everything.
The Suns trailed by 1 and had the ball.
Nash inbounded from the sideline and easily found Blake near the top of the floor, nearly two meters beyond the three-point line.
The Mavericks had no reason to foul.
All they had to do was get one stop, and the game was theirs.
Marion stepped up to pick up Blake.
A little farther back, Nowitzki and Stevenson waited on either side.
The Mavericks' three best perimeter defenders were all focused on Blake.
10.3 seconds.
8.1 seconds.
The clock continued to run.
Marion followed Blake beyond the arc and taunted him.
"You don't actually think you're going to hit another game-winner, do you?
"Keep dreaming.
"We're winning tonight. There's no way you're scoring here!"
"Is that so?"
Blake smiled faintly, glanced at the clock, then locked eyes with Marion.
His gaze sharpened.
"Here I come."
The instant Blake controlled the ball with his left hand, he burst left, then snapped into a crossover.
Marion nearly lost his footing.
Blake followed with a between-the-legs dribble, shifting the ball back to his right hand.
He lowered his stance, dipped his left shoulder, and suddenly accelerated left again.
"He's going left!"
Marion's eyes narrowed as he slid hard in that direction.
But at that exact moment, Blake crossed over again.
Double crossover.
Marion was sent stumbling to the left while Blake exploded toward the right wing.
The entire sequence happened in an instant.
Blake shook Marion free, stopped sharply on the right side of the arc, and rose for three.
"Damn it!"
Marion had already lost his balance and couldn't recover in time to contest.
All he could do was watch and shout, "There's no way you're making that three!"
Blake didn't answer.
He rose with his eyes fixed on the rim, the corner of his mouth curling slightly upward.
Then he gathered the ball, flicked his wrist, and released.
The ball left his fingertips.
Blake landed.
The shot was still spinning through the air, and every pair of eyes in the arena was locked onto it.
Everyone except Blake.
He turned around confidently.
His back to the basket.
Then he raised both hands and began celebrating before the shot had even gone in.
The next instant, the clock hit zero.
"Swish!"
The beautiful sound of the net echoed through the arena.
The ball dropped straight through.
Blake had buried the game-winning three.
The Mavericks were finished.
...
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