๐ November 13, 2024 โ TD Garden, Boston
The fourth quarter began with the lights burning hotter than they had all night. Maybe it was the scoreboard. Maybe it was just Boston.
The noise in TD Garden wasn't thunderous. It was sharp. Every made basket by the Celtics felt like a gavel strike. Every missed shot by Orlando was followed by a wave of anticipatory silence, the kind that builds pressure just by hanging in the air.
Zoran stood just past the arc as play resumed. His hands rested on his knees. Sweat traced down the back of his neck and soaked into his jersey collar. He didn't notice. He was too busy watching the spacing.
Boston had tightened their defense again. No more easy pin-downs. No clean handoffs. Even the passing lanes felt like they had grown thorns.
Orlando's first two possessions of the quarter stalled. A misread by Anthony Black. A rushed pull-up from Suggs. No points.
On the other end, Brown snaked around two screens and pulled up clean.70โ59.
The crowd stirred, then rose when White stripped Paolo on the next trip. Fast break. Tatum filled the lane. Layup.72โ59.
Timeout Mosley.
Zoran didn't sit.
He stood next to the huddle, towel over his shoulder, listening but not blinking. He didn't need new plays. He needed the pulse. The rhythm. Boston hadn't changed schemes. They'd just turned the volume up.
Mosley drew up a set playโweak-side flare into a ghost screen, with Franz popping up top.
Zoran waited.
Back on the floor, he inbounded. The Celtics pressed high again, Jrue shading across the inbound lane like he'd been there before the pass was even thrown.
Franz broke free, barely.
Ball reversed once. Twice.
Then back to Zoran, top of the key.
He jabbed right, drove left, and used Porziลฤฃis' hedge against himโveered back toward the middle and rose.
Midrange. Splash.72โ61.
The silence from the crowd wasn't stunned. It was measured.
They respected shots like that.
Boston came back with force.
Tatum posted Franz and got two free throws.74โ61.
On the other end, Wendell set a hard screen, Zoran slipped under the arc, and Suggs found him on the cut.
Contact. Finish. Whistle.Zoran hit the floor but got up without looking at the ref.
He walked straight to the free throw line.
Made one. Missed one.74โ64.
Midway through the fourth now. Every possession felt like it held weight. Orlando wasn't out of it. But the margin felt tight enough to snap.
Jrue hit a leaning floater.Zoran came down and missed a pull-up three on a broken set.
Boston ran. Fast break. White lobbed it. Brown slammed it.78โ64.
Zoran jogged back, not because he was slow, but because it was the only way to breathe.
Timeout Orlando.
Coach Mosley didn't pull him.
When the huddle broke, Paolo looked at him for the first time that night.
"You good?"
Zoran didn't answer. Just nodded once.
Next play: curl off Wendell, catch in stride, floater.78โ66.
Back on defense, he forced Jrue to reverse the ball twice before a wild corner three clanged off.
Franz rebounded. Zoran pushed.
Fast break. He kept the dribble alive, saw Tatum cheating middle, and slipped a bounce pass to Suggs slicing baseline.Layup.78โ68.
With under three minutes left, the Celtics began to slow things down.
Porziลฤฃas missed a turnaround. Wendell boarded.
Zoran walked it up. Called nothing. Just motioned with his off-hand.
Ball swung to Paolo. Then back.
Zoran isolated. Jrue again. He jabbed. Crossed. Pulled up just inside the arc.
Bucket.78โ70.
The crowd started buzzing againโbut it wasn't celebration. It was concern.
Two possessions later, Tatum hit a dagger. A contested step-back three with the shot clock bleeding.81โ70.
The building shook.
It didn't knock Zoran over.
He walked the ball up the next trip, found Franz on the wing, then ghosted behind the screen. Franz kicked it back.
Catch. Fire.Three.
81โ73.
Timeout Boston.
There were still 1:14 left.
Zoran had 22 points now. 4 rebounds. 3 assists. No turnovers.
It wasn't enough to win. But it was enough to matter.
The next two possessions came fast. Orlando fouled. Boston hit free throws. Zoran scored again on a curling cut.Final: Celtics 85, Magic 75
The loss wasn't the headline.
The film would be.
After the game, he sat at his locker for nearly ten minutes.
No one rushed to interview him. No mic shoved in his face.
But one Celtics assistant walked past and gave him a short nod.
He didn't smile. Just tied his shoes tighter, then loosened them again.
Paolo clapped his shoulder once on the way to the showers.
"You're good," he muttered. "You'll be real good."
Zoran didn't respond. But for a half-second, he looked up.
Not to answer. Just to remember the words.
------------------------------------------Author Question-------------------------------------
Do you guys like the layout of the new chapters or should I switch back to the old layout?. just been experimenting with it.