Date: June 21, 2021

Location: TD Garden, Boston

Event: NBA Finals Game 4 – Celtics lead series 2–1

5:12 PM – Celtics Locker RoomGame 4.

The air was heavier tonight. The team felt it. The pressure. The weight of destiny. The Suns were wounded—but dangerous. Boston could smell a 3–1 series lead, but Kyle knew that desperation births monsters.

Kyle sat in his corner, taped up but not cleared. He wore Derrick Wilson's vintage gray hoodie. The one with "Savage Mode" scratched across the chest. His father's scent had long faded, but the memory still lingered.

Coach Udoka paced with quiet urgency.

"We're not chasing rings tonight—we're chasing control. Phoenix won't go quietly."

Eyes turned toward Kyle. He gave a simple nod, then pointed at the dry-erase board.

"Booker's gonna test the elbow early. Trap the switch. Rotate late corner—force Ayton to make decisions, not Booker. He doesn't want to pass under pressure."

Smart grinned. "He ain't wrong."

6:30 PM – Tip-OffThe Garden vibrated with tension. Every bounce of the ball felt amplified.

Jaylen Brown opened with a fierce drive and dunk. Tatum followed with a three. Celtics led 10–2 early, riding momentum from Game 3.

But then Phoenix punched back. Hard.

Booker found rhythm—two midrange fadeaways and a pull-up triple in transition. Ayton bruised Williams in the paint, muscling to the rim for a pair of and-ones. By the end of the first quarter:

Suns 29 – Celtics 26

On the bench, Kyle scribbled rotations, watching the Suns push the tempo and shift into ghost screens to confuse Boston's defense.

Second Quarter – ChaosEverything broke open.

Payne exploded off the bench with back-to-back threes. The Suns' pace scrambled Boston's transition defense. At one point, Phoenix led by 14. The Garden was quiet for the first time all series.

Kyle stood, shouting into the headset:

"Switch to 1-3-1 press. Force cross-court passes. Let the weakside recover. They're running too much middle."

Coach Daly relayed it.

The next sequence? Phoenix turned it over twice.

Kyle leaned back. "We're still in this."

Tatum brought them back within 6 before the half, burying a contested three over Bridges as the buzzer rang.

Halftime: Suns 58 – Celtics 52

Third Quarter – Blood in the WaterThe third was war.

Bodies crashed into hardwood. Elbows. Screams. Tempers flared. And then…

Injury.

Robert Williams went down hard contesting Ayton at the rim. He grabbed at his left knee and didn't get up.

The crowd hushed.

Kyle's stomach twisted. He turned away. Not again.

Medical staff helped Rob limp to the tunnel. Boston had lost its rim protector.

In the chaos, Phoenix capitalized. Booker torched every switch, and the Celtics lacked interior defense without Time Lord.

End of 3rd: Suns 87 – Celtics 77

Fourth Quarter – RebellionJaylen took over.

Like a man possessed, he slashed, drew fouls, and played suffocating defense. Tatum matched him, hitting big shots despite exhaustion setting in.

With 3:14 left, Celtics pulled within two: 97–95.

Phoenix called timeout.

On the bench, Kyle limped over to the huddle, gripping the board.

"They'll ice Tatum's drives. So let him be a decoy. Let Jaylen cut baseline off a pin-down from Horford. That's the opening. Don't settle for three."

Udoka nodded. They ran it.

Brown curled… caught… reverse lay-in.

Tie game.

97–97

Final MinuteWith 45 seconds left, Booker isolated on the left wing.

Smart pressed. Kyle shouted, "Don't bite!"

But Booker faked, stepped back—and drilled the dagger three.

Suns 100 – Celtics 97

Boston scrambled. Tatum missed a contested jumper. Phoenix hit two free throws to seal it.

Final: Suns 102 – Celtics 97

Series tied 2–2

Postgame – The Boiling PointBackstage, the locker room was silent.

Williams was in a brace. Tatum had his arm in ice. Everyone looked to Kyle, waiting for his words.

But he sat still.

Finally, he looked up and spoke, voice low:

"We gave them breath. Now they want war. So let's give them fire."

Jaylen nodded.

"Then we make Game 5 the reckoning."

Scene: Kyle's Apartment, Later That NightKyle stood on the balcony, staring into the city. Derrick Wilson's journal rested on the railing, open to a page dated 2003.

"Legs break. Minds don't. Be the storm."

He ran a thumb over the faded ink.

Ari stepped beside him, rubbing her belly.

"You okay?"

Kyle didn't answer right away.

"I'm not playing. Not yet. But I feel like I'm controlling this game more than ever."

She smiled.

"You're your father's son."

He kissed her temple.

"Next game… they'll remember our name."

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