Small Moves

"Beep." With the referee's whistle, the game between the Boston Celtics and the Sacramento Kings officially began.

"Clang!" "Clang!" "Clang!"... As soon as the game started, neither side found their rhythm, and the first five possessions all resulted in missed shots.

"Swish."

Peja Stojakovic ran off the ball, heading to the three-point line at the left 45-degree angle. The ball arrived right as he did, delivered instantly by Mike Bibby.

Peja Stojakovic caught the ball, jumped, hung in the air, and released.

The motion was fluid, executed with the precision of a blade.

Three-pointer good.

0:3

The deadlock was finally broken, and the Sacramento Kings led by 3 points.

Following that three-pointer from Peja Stojakovic, the Sacramento Kings found their rhythm and began scoring frequently.

Although Paul Pierce scored 4 consecutive points during this stretch, it still didn't stop the gap from widening.

Halfway through the quarter, the score was 6:14, with the Boston Celtics trailing the Sacramento Kings by 8 points.

"Timeout!" Doc Rivers called for a timeout to make personnel adjustments.

"Goodwin, get ready to check in." Doc Rivers decisively sent in the current Boston Celtics sixth man—Goodwin.

"Yes."

Goodwin sprang up from his chair, quickly took off his warm-up jacket, and prepared to enter the game.

"Goodwin!" "Goodwin!" "Goodwin!"... The female fans in the arena screamed wildly upon seeing that Goodwin was finally checking in.

Boston Celtics players: We're used to it!

Sacramento Kings players: I'm not!

The Sacramento Kings players on the court stared at Goodwin in unison; if looks could kill, Goodwin would have met his maker a dozen times over.

"Rookie, I'm going to lock you down." Peja Stojakovic hated "pretty boys" like Goodwin more than anything.

"Oh!" Goodwin replied dismissively.

Before the game, Goodwin had researched Peja Stojakovic. His offensive game was indeed excellent; he was one of the best shooters in the league, possessing great shot selection and superb shooting technique. His shooting form wasn't textbook, but his release was fast, his accuracy was high, his range was vast, and his ability to cut to the basket was strong. At his height, he had a clear advantage playing the small forward position.

However, his one-on-one isolation ability was relatively poor, his individual ball-handling offense was weak, his dribbling and driving skills were below average, and his post-up game was virtually non-existent.

As for his defense, his strength and footwork were decent—at least he wasn't a liability—but his defensive attitude was overly passive and soft, and his mental toughness was lacking. His career average of less than 0.2 blocks per game was the best proof of that.

This season, he was averaging 24.2 points, 6.3 rebounds, 2.1 assists, and 0.2 blocks, with a field goal percentage of 48.8% and a three-point percentage of 43.3%.

Seeing Goodwin's dismissive expression was like adding fuel to the fire; Peja Stojakovic, already annoyed, was now even more furious.

Goodwin watched the changes in Peja Stojakovic's facial expression and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

Jump in and jump out, come and get me, dummy!

Goodwin almost blurted that out, but fortunately, he held it back.

Stay low-key, stay low-key!

The Boston Celtics inbounded the ball, passing it to Mike James, who quickly dribbled across half-court.

As soon as Mike James crossed the timeline, Goodwin, who was in the left corner, began to move, sprinting along the baseline toward the right corner.

Peja Stojakovic followed him closely, his arms spread wide to prevent any sudden passes.

Zip!

As he reached the paint, Goodwin suddenly slammed on the brakes and turned to run back the other way.

Want to shake me off? Try again in your next life.

Peja Stojakovic reacted immediately, braking hard to chase after Goodwin.

The next moment, a figure appeared between the two of them.

With a loud thud, Peja Stojakovic didn't have time to dodge and ran straight into him.

"Fuck!" Peja Stojakovic couldn't help but curse.

He hadn't noticed Mark Blount's arrival at all.

He watched helplessly as Goodwin used the screen to pop out to the perimeter, caught the pass from Mike James, jumped, hung in the air, and released a three-pointer.

The ball, as if guided by GPS, dropped steadily into the hoop.

Three-pointer good.

9:14, the gap instantly returned to 5 points.

The entire TD Garden erupted, especially the female fans who had come to support Goodwin, their screams echoing continuously.

After making the shot, Goodwin looked at the approaching Peja Stojakovic and said, "I thought you were going to lock me down? How did you let me score? Man, your defense is trash; you should just get off the court." The sarcasm was dialed up to the max.

After saying this, Goodwin turned and ran, not giving Peja Stojakovic any time to respond.

WTF!

Peja Stojakovic hurried to chase after him, unleashing a torrent of trash talk at Goodwin.

Goodwin let it go in one ear and out the other.

He owed this to the "well-intentioned" efforts of Paul Pierce; during team practices, he frequently matched up against Paul Pierce, who would spray him with trash talk every chance he got.

One had to know that Paul Pierce was one of the premier trash talkers in the NBA.

Therefore, Goodwin had already grown accustomed to it.

After Peja Stojakovic finished his outburst, he realized that his enemy hadn't lost a single drop of health, which dealt a heavy blow to his psyche and sent his anger surging upward.

Glancing at Mike Bibby, Peja Stojakovic moved his feet and sprinted toward the paint.

Goodwin followed him closely without making any excessive moves.

Suddenly, Peja Stojakovic slammed on the brakes and cut back, causing the corners of Goodwin's mouth to curl up slightly; you want to pay me back, are you overthinking this?

Goodwin also slammed on his brakes to pursue him.

The next moment, Peja Stojakovic's left hand reached Goodwin's waist and gave a forceful shove.

Completely caught off guard, Goodwin lost his balance instantly.

With a loud thud, he collided heavily with the floor.

Damn it! That hurts.

"Whistle." The referee happened to catch Peja Stojakovic's action and immediately called an offensive foul on him.

Peja Stojakovic ran back to the other end of the court with a look of unwillingness on his face.

Meanwhile, Goodwin got back up with the help of his teammates.

"You alright, Goodwin?" Paul Pierce asked with concern.

"I'm fine, senior Paul," Goodwin replied.

"Get used to it early, Goodwin. This is the physicality of the NBA. Sometimes, if the referee doesn't catch this kind of contact, you're the one who suffers," Vin Baker reminded him.

Goodwin nodded.

He then made up his mind that he would definitely have to learn a few tricks from Paul Pierce later on.

Not having a sword in your hand and having a sword but choosing not to use it were two completely different things.

Damn it, if it weren't for the referee, I would be the one suffering right now. You son of a bitch Peja Stojakovic, you just wait for me; I'm going to shoot you into the ground.

Goodwin glared at Peja Stojakovic's retreating back and thought to himself.