"Chris!!! He hit another shot over Wembanyama! No way, that went in too?! What an outrageous shot!!!"
"Guys, I have to take back what I said earlier. It's not just humans who can't guard Chris—now it seems even aliens can't stop him!!"
"You can see that during those last two possessions, Victor and Chris seemed to exchange a few words. Spurred on by that tension, Chris deliberately sought out a difficult matchup against Victor. That fits his usual style perfectly—letting the ball do the talking and beating his opponent head-on is what he loves most."
"This is insane. Since the start of the season, this is the first time I've seen a player deliberately call for Victor. Other ball handlers can't avoid him fast enough."
"That's what makes Chris different, isn't it?"
The sideline commentators and the teammates on the bench all cheered Chen Xi's spectacular basket.
But Wembanyama on the court was already itching to get one back.
He quickly got into position in the frontcourt, stepped out to the perimeter, took the ball from Brunson, then turned to initiate offense against Chen Xi, the tougher defender.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa?!! Is he serious, guys?! What am I seeing?!"
"Victor is calling for Chris? He wants to challenge Chris's defense? Oh, man, that isn't a wise choice, even if he has an enormous size advantage..."
"If he got a mismatch against Chris in the paint, I'd support Victor's decision. But out on the perimeter, seeing him try to force the issue like this, all I can say is that young people still lack composure. Confidence is a good thing, but blind confidence is arrogance."
At that moment, neither the commentators nor the fans at courtside thought highly of Wembanyama's chances. Even Popovich, standing by the technical table, had furrowed