A few possessions earlier, the atmosphere inside Phoenix's American Airlines Center had still been joyous.
The fans had cheered their hearts out, Hornacek had confidently directed his team, and Isaiah Thomas had been treated like a hero.
They had all been waiting for a resounding victory, or a career-defining highlight of their own.
But now, there was no emotion left inside the American Airlines Center except tension.
The fans clenched their fists and gritted their teeth. The noisy stands had fallen silent, and everyone could hear only the pounding of their own hearts.
On the court, no one cared about the cheerleaders' performance anymore. All Suns fans cared about now was one question—could the Suns hold on to their final two-point lead until the end?
Jeff Hornacek was under immense pressure. If the Suns had been pinned to the ground and beaten by the Grizzlies from the start, he might not have felt nearly this much pressure.
After all, everyone agreed that it would be incredibly difficult for the Suns to crush the Grizzlies.
But during the game, the Suns had given everyone hope. They had nearly toppled the first seed in the West.
That made it hard for the fans to accept losing to the Grizzlies again.
The cruelest thing was not having no hope from the beginning, but seeing hope halfway through, only to have it taken away.
Hornacek and every fan in the arena did not want that to happen.
"Isaiah, drag out the clock as much as possible on the final possession. And make sure you score! Drive to the basket—I need you to finish at the rim! If you do that, victory will be ours! Remember, you absolutely cannot make a mistake. We can't hand over a win that's already in our grasp!"
Hornacek patted