"This will be the craziest day in Cleveland."
That was the headline from the Cleveland Plain Dealer leading into Game 6 of the NBA Finals. The city buzzed with anticipation, realizing they were on the brink of a second championship—just one year after breaking the drought.
Cleveland, once the poster child of sports heartbreak, now stood on the cusp of back-to-back titles. What had felt impossible was now within reach, and the sheer madness of it gripped the city.
The day before the game, Han Sen gathered the team at his estate for a bonfire. This wasn't just a celebration; it was a pressure release valve. The stakes were sky-high. Lose, and it's back to Oakland for a Game 7, with no guarantees Han could slip into The Zone again.
The vibe was loose. Drinks flowed, music played, and Han even brought in party hosts to keep things light. But not everyone was in a festive mood.
Jokić sat quietly by the fire, staring into the flames.
Han noticed. He walked over, clapping a hand on Jokić's shoulder, then handing him a freshly grilled skewer.
"Why the long face?" Han asked, plopping down beside him.
Jokić accepted the skewer but didn't eat it—which was odd. Normally, he'd devour it without hesitation.
"Trouble with Natalija?" Han teased, half-expecting some relationship drama.
Jokić shook his head, sighing. "Nah. I've just been thinking... How do I handle Draymond?"Han blinked, caught off guard. He even mock-checked Jokić's forehead. "No fever. Not hallucinating. You're thinking about basketball? At a party?"Jokić chuckled softly, then shrugged. "I just don't want to be the reason we fall short."
Ah. G4 was still haunting him.
Han didn't have an answer. Not off the top of his head.
"Hold up," Han said, disappearing briefly and returning with someone who did have answers: Tim Grover, his personal trainer.
Grover didn't waste time. "You need to bulk up this summer. Get to around 120 kilos."
It was part of a plan he'd already considered. Jokić had slimmed down to adapt to the NBA's pace, but if he wanted to dominate inside, especially against someone like Draymond, he needed more muscle—not fat, but functional strength.
Jokić hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can I start after horse racing season?"Grover blinked, confused. Han burst out laughing, shaking his head.
If someone told Jokić the world was ending tomorrow, he'd probably ask if he could squeeze in one last race.
"Your call. We'll start when you're back in Cleveland," Grover replied, smiling.
Han leaned in, adding, "Win tomorrow, and I've got a gift for you. Something better than a trophy."
Jokić smirked, finally relaxing. He nodded, and Han left him to discuss training details with Grover.
As Han moved through the crowd, he spotted JR Smith deep in conversation with a group of partygoers, a mischievous grin spreading across Han's face.
---
Quicken Loans Arena.
Thousands packed the plaza outside, turning it into a sea of wine and gold. The crowd's energy rivaled last year's championship parade.
Inside, it was standing-room only—fans even lining the concourse levels.
Banners waved, faces painted, chants echoing. This was Cleveland's final home game of the season, championship or not.
With 30 minutes to tip-off, players hit the court for warmups.
When the cameras panned to LeBron, the arena erupted in boos.
Last year, he brought Cleveland a title. Tonight, he might deliver another—but for the wrong team.
And there was nothing more poetic than that.
---
After the opening ceremony, both teams rolled out the same starting lineups from Game 5. Kerr kept Iguodala on the bench, sticking with McCaw in the starting five.
With the crowd roaring, Jokić tipped the ball back to Cleveland's side, and Game 6 was officially underway.
Right out of the gate, Han Sen and Jokić ran a pick-and-roll. Han fed Jokić on the cut, drawing a foul from McCaw.
If Kerr was going to stick with McCaw, then Cleveland was going to keep exploiting that mismatch.
The Cavs' offensive strategy looked familiar, mirroring their Game 5 approach. But it was on the defensive end where things took a sharp turn.
After Jokić knocked down both free throws, the Cavs dialed up their defensive intensity to levels reminiscent of their third-quarter surge in Game 5.
LeBron tried to drive past Covington, but Tucker rotated over, cutting him off at the free-throw line. Tucker's long arms disrupted LeBron's passing lane, forcing a desperate kick-out to the perimeter.
Golden State's shooters were blanketed. No one could shake free. With five seconds left on the shot clock, the ball found its way to Curry.
Time to defuse the bomb.
But Han was glued to him. Curry had to settle for a step-back three from way beyond the arc, and it clanged off the rim.
Kerr was still processing the miss, but Mike Brown was already off the bench, yelling at the Warriors to get back on defense.
Most teams don't go all-out defensively from the opening tip. It can sap energy, hurt offensive rhythm, and create stamina issues late in the game.
But that wasn't Cleveland's concern tonight.
Malone was sending a clear message: We're here to finish this.
For Golden State, this was the moment of truth. If they could withstand this early onslaught, the Cavs might fade as fatigue set in—just like the Warriors did in Game 5.
But if they couldn't?
This game could be over by halftime.
Brown's reaction was quick, but Cleveland's transition game was quicker.
Jokić fired a full-court pass to Han, who blew past two defenders like they weren't even there. No hesitation, no deceleration—just pure speed and power as he soared in for a thunderous tomahawk slam.
The crowd erupted. Quicken Loans Arena was alive.
As the Warriors tried to regroup, the chants started:
DE-FENSE! DE-FENSE!
The noise was deafening, rattling eardrums and shaking the very foundation of the arena. In that moment, Cleveland wasn't just a home court—it was a fortress.
---
Golden State's next possession? Another brick.
LeBron snagged an offensive rebound, tried to muscle it back up… and got stuffed by Jokić.
While LeBron turned to complain to the refs, the Cavs were already sprinting the other way. Han dished it to JR for an easy layup.
Funny thing about small-ball lineups: they only work if you play fast. Transition offense is the key. LeBron had preached that to Draymond in their heated exchanges.
The problem?
Talking about it is easy.
Executing it is hard.
Fast breaks start with defense. And LeBron wasn't defending—just cherry-picking, hoping for quick outlets. Without stops, there are no fast breaks.
Cleveland, on the other hand, was putting on a clinic.
Sure, the Cavs had defensive holes. Jokić wasn't exactly a lockdown perimeter defender.
But Malone had already accounted for that. He kept Jokić anchored in the paint, relying on the Cavs' perimeter rotations to cover ground.
And with Han lurking on the outside? Good luck trying to exploit mismatches.
---
The real difference-maker?
Effort.
When Jokić is rotating over to block LeBron, you know the entire team is locked in.
Strike while the iron's hot. That was the Cavs' mentality.
The Warriors didn't see it coming.
By the end of the first quarter, Cleveland led 30-18.
Golden State, the team known for explosive scoring bursts, had been held under 20 points. Unthinkable.
Kerr sat on the bench, his brow furrowed, probably questioning his decision to keep Iguodala out of the starting lineup.
Basketball is like chess. And in these Finals, Malone had been the grandmaster.
The good news for the Warriors? A 12-point deficit isn't insurmountable.
If they could chip away before halftime, they'd still have a shot.
But if they didn't…
Cleveland might be celebrating early.
---
The second quarter began with the Warriors' bench unit clawing back into the game. Led by Iguodala and LeBron, they managed to cut the deficit to single digits.
Wade, who had been solid throughout the Finals, seemed off tonight. Malone noticed and didn't hesitate—subbing the starters back earlier than planned.
And just like that, Han Sen made his presence felt.
He swatted Iguodala's shot with authority, igniting the crowd and shifting momentum. The Cavs quickly stretched the lead back to double digits before Kerr could even react with a timeout.
Coming out of the break, Kerr rolled out his best lineup—the starters plus Iguodala. It helped stabilize things momentarily, but the Cavs were relentless.
As the game wore on, Cleveland's early defensive intensity began to wane. Fatigue set in, evident in their slower rotations and closeouts. Malone recognized it and made an adjustment: focus defensive pressure on the Splash Brothers, daring LeBron and Iguodala to shoot from deep.
The results were immediate.
Golden State bricked shot after shot from beyond the arc. Meanwhile, the Cavs capitalized, ballooning the lead to over 15 points.
That's when it hit everyone—the Warriors' spacing wasn't as invincible as it seemed. Their perimeter threats hinged almost entirely on Curry and Thompson. LeBron and Iguodala couldn't stretch the floor consistently, and it showed.
Iguodala managed with cuts and hustle plays, but LeBron was trapped. His reluctance to shoot threes left him barreling into packed defenses, with Covington, Tucker, and Jokić waiting.
By halftime, the Cavs led by 20.
The Warriors were unraveling.
With one possession left in the half, LeBron held the ball at the top of the key. No defender within three feet. He scanned, directing traffic, but the Cavs smothered Curry and Thompson. With two seconds left, LeBron dished to Draymond Green.
Green's contested three clanged off the rim.
And then—it happened.
Frustration boiled over.
Draymond stormed toward LeBron, shouting, "Shoot the damn ball! You were wide open!"
The arena went silent for a beat. Players froze, ears perked.
LeBron's face tightened. "Don't tell me how to play basketball!"
Klay Thompson rushed over, trying to defuse the situation, but Draymond wasn't done. "We're down 20! Why won't you shoot?!"
LeBron snapped, lowering his voice to a growl, "Shut your mouth. We'll talk in the locker room."
Wrong move.
Draymond exploded, his voice cutting through the arena noise. "You're a b****, and you know it! We don't need you. We won without you. Get out of here!"
LeBron froze. The last time someone disrespected him like that was Westbrook—and at least Russ had the resume to back it up.
Draymond? Not so much.
"You better take that back!" LeBron barked, jabbing a finger at Draymond's chest.
But Draymond just laughed, raising his voice even higher: "LISTEN UP! WE WERE CHAMPS BEFORE YOU GOT HERE!"
The halftime buzzer had sounded, but no one moved.
The implosion had begun.