The Arco Arena in Sacramento was buzzing with excitement as countless fans gathered with their families to witness a game destined to be legendary. The Kings, a team that had taken the league by storm this season, had won six of their first nine games, emerging as a surprising contender in the competitive Western Conference. Their opponents tonight were the defending champion San Antonio Spurs, making the matchup even more exciting. Adding to the intrigue was that the Kings' general manager, Jake, who had masterminded the team's transformation, was a former assistant coach for the Spurs and a protégé of the legendary Gregg Popovich. This wasn't just a battle between teams; it was a showdown between mentor and disciple. The stakes couldn't be higher.
The game had attracted nationwide attention, and even the broadcaster couldn't resist the hype, making sure it was broadcast live across the U.S.
"Listen carefully," Popovich said sternly in the Spurs' locker room. "This year's Kings are not to be underestimated, especially their inside game. Tim, I need you to limit Cousins and reduce his shots in the paint. Kawhi, you'll need to dominate the perimeter. Can you do that?"
Duncan and Leonard, expressionless as always, exchanged glances and nodded. The Spurs were in the midst of a transition, with Duncan slowly passing the torch to the rising star, Leonard, just as David Robinson had done for him years earlier.
"One more thing," Popovich added, his tone now playful yet deadly serious. "This is our first game against Jake since he left. He's been doing well, but if any of you make me look bad in front of him, you'll regret it."
The players knew better than to test Popovich's temper. Parker stood up first, raising his fist in a show of unity. "We'll win this for you, coach," he said confidently. The rest of the team followed suit.
Meanwhile, Jake was sitting on the sidelines, dressed in a sharp suit, trying to stay composed. Unlike his usual laid-back demeanor, today he was sitting upright, visibly tense. The team's trainer sitting next to him noticed his sweaty hands and tried to reassure him.
"Relax, Jake. You've already proven yourself as a top GM. You have nothing to worry about."
Jake forced a smile, but it didn't ease his nerves. "You don't understand," he muttered. "You've never worked with that old man. If we lose badly tonight, I'll never hear the end of it."
Out on the court, the Kings players were huddled up. Rudy Gay, their veteran leader, was unusually serious. "Tonight's game is crucial," he said. "We're up against last year's champs. They won't give us many chances, so we need to execute perfectly and minimize mistakes."
"But we're not without hope," he added. "This Spurs team is older than last year, and they don't know what tricks we have up our sleeves. We've got a real shot at winning tonight."
Despite Gay's pep talk, some of the younger players were visibly anxious. CJ McCollum, still inexperienced in high-pressure situations, felt his legs shaking as he saw the Spurs players lined up in their black jerseys. Tim Duncan stood like a giant Buddha on the court, his calm, emotionless demeanor only adding to his intimidating presence. DeMarcus Cousins, standing next to Duncan, swallowed nervously, wondering how he could compete with such a legendary figure.
The game tipped off, and Cousins won the jump ball, passing it to CJ, who slowly dribbled up the court. After signaling for the first play, CJ noticed that the Kings' shooters, Ben McLemore and Omri Casspi, were struggling to get open. The Spurs' perimeter defense, led by Kawhi Leonard and Danny Green, was suffocating. Though Leonard hadn't yet earned a Defensive Player of the Year award, everyone knew it was only a matter of time. Green, meanwhile, was in his prime, known for his deadly three-point shooting and lockdown defense.
With the shot clock winding down and the play breaking down, CJ was forced to pass the ball inside to Cousins. But Cousins, too, found himself bottled up by the Brazilian big man, Tiago Splitter. Splitter's physical defense left Cousins with no room to operate, and as the shot clock hit zero, Cousins had to force a contested shot. Unsurprisingly, it clanged off the rim, and Duncan easily boxed out Gay to grab the rebound.
"This isn't going to work," Jake muttered under his breath, tugging anxiously at his sleeves. It was already clear from the first possession that the Spurs were prepared for a slow, methodical defensive battle. Their ironclad defense left the Kings with few offensive options, and the Kings—who thrived on high-scoring games—weren't known for their defense.
The tension in the arena was palpable. Jake knew that the Spurs' system, honed over years under Popovich, was built for grinding out tough wins. The Kings, despite their hot start, were still an unproven team. As the game wore on, it became increasingly clear that Jake's team was facing an uphill battle.
Still, there was a spark of hope. The Spurs were aging, and the Kings were hungry. If Jake had learned anything from his years under Popovich, it was that no game was won on paper. Tonight, they had a chance to prove they belonged. But whether they could rise to the challenge remained to be seen.
As expected, after the defensive switch, Duncan held the ball on the weak side, pulling all of Rudy Gay's attention. Even without running any fancy plays, Duncan's mere presence was enough to rattle Gay, who wasn't confident he could defend the veteran one-on-one. But the Spurs were far too experienced to rely on simple isolation plays. After drawing enough defensive attention, Duncan made a move toward the basket. It was as if Gay had been hit by a truck—he staggered back just half a step, but it was enough to leave the basket wide open.
Casspi, positioned near the baseline, had been watching the struggle between Gay and Duncan. When he saw Gay faltering, he instinctively stepped in to help. But just as Casspi shifted his focus to Duncan, the basketball zipped out of Duncan's hands, flying straight to Tony Parker in the corner like it had wings. It was a textbook inside-out play, one the Spurs had executed countless times to create open shots for their perimeter shooters.
This particular tactic had been a staple for the Spurs in recent years, especially during the 2012 Finals when Danny Green and Gary Neal rained down three-pointers on the Miami Heat. But Jake, as Popovich's former disciple, knew the Spurs' playbook all too well. He had anticipated the move. Casspi, realizing the pass to Parker, turned quickly and rushed to close out on him. Parker, ever the wily veteran, pump-faked, easily shaking Casspi, and dribbled toward the paint.
"No!" Jake, who had been sitting nervously, suddenly stood up, his eyes locked on the court. "It's not an inside-out! They've got something new!"
Sure enough, when everyone expected Parker to kick the ball out again for a shot, he smiled cunningly and passed it straight into the paint. Out of nowhere, Kawhi Leonard appeared, cutting to the basket. Duncan had already sealed off the lane, with Gay half-pushed out of bounds. Leonard took the ball and launched into the air for a thunderous tomahawk dunk, shaking the entire basket.
"Is this…?" Jake stared in disbelief, trying to process what he'd just seen. "Is this motion offense?"
Jake was momentarily stunned. The Spurs' motion offense relied heavily on ball movement, inside positioning, and strong-to-weak side ball transfers to create open shots. This system challenged a team's basketball IQ, vision, and quick decision-making. While Jake knew the Spurs had been experimenting with this offense since 2011, it hadn't fully taken shape until LaMarcus Aldridge joined the team later on. The team was still transitioning away from the "Big Three" of Duncan, Parker, and Ginobili. So why was it being used now?
Had Jake's presence triggered some sort of butterfly effect?
Suddenly, the confidence Jake had been clinging to vanished. He was now facing the peak of Spurs' team basketball, a system that would become legendary even in his original timeline. As Jake feared, the Kings quickly unraveled under the Spurs' relentless offense. The basketball moved seamlessly from player to player, each pass creating more open space, while the Kings' defense struggled to keep up. The Spurs were in no rush—they wore down their opponents, both physically and mentally, with their precise ball movement.
"Swoosh!" Another three-pointer from Danny Green.
The scoreboard now read 21:10. It was a one-sided massacre.
"We can't wait for the rotation!" Jake could no longer stay seated. He discreetly made his way to the coach's seat and whispered urgently to Mike Malone. "If we keep playing like this and wait for the bench, we're done!"
Jake knew exactly what was coming. In addition to the near-flawless starting lineup, the Spurs had two deadly weapons on their bench—Boris Diaw and Manu Ginobili. Both were masters of making plays, and once they entered the game, any hope of a comeback would be crushed.