How the turntables.

Before the first practice session in Miami, Coach Joerger gathered the team in the locker room to remind them about one thing: be cautious of the Heat's defense.

Injuries were the last thing they needed in the Finals. After his talk, he pulled aside a few core players to emphasize the point once more.

This was something Han Sen had discussed with Joerger—prompted by his conversation with Rudy Gay, where he'd thought of Granger's previous injury from a similar scenario.

The Grizzlies might hold the advantage now, but if one of their core players were taken out due to rough play, it would shift the balance of the series.

Plus, based on the previous game, it was clear the officiating was tilting in the Heat's favor, which could potentially lead to suspensions if players retaliated.

From Han Sen's perspective as someone who knew the league's 'history,' he was all too aware of the dangers.

After all, he knew how the Warriors, back in the day, had lost to the Cavaliers in a historic 3–1 Finals comeback due to similar issues.

...

That night, the American Airlines Arena was packed, with enthusiastic fans filling every seat.

Han Sen felt an odd sense of familiarity—not just from the games he had played here, but also because he'd once worked as a temporary ball boy in this very arena.

Even his Division II championship game with Barry University had been held here. Seeing it now as the stage for the NBA Finals stirred up emotions.

As he scanned the arena, Han's gaze settled on a massive sign: "Let's do it again." The current Finals mirrored the 2006 Finals, where the Heat had launched a dramatic comeback in this very arena after trailing 0–2.

This thought pulled Han into deep contemplation—especially when he noticed tonight's lead official was an old acquaintance, Scott Foster, who had just returned from a suspension after an incident in Memphis.

Preparing for a tough game seemed increasingly necessary. They'd need all the mental grit they could muster tonight.

Miami, as an international city, drew a star-studded crowd tonight. Chris Paul and Carmelo Anthony were there to support their 'brother.'

Then, Han noticed someone unexpected—Jackie Chan himself, who rarely showed up here despite his Miami waterfront mansion.

But this was the Finals, and Han was the first Chinese player to make it this far. This was just a symbol of the Chinese basketball community going wild.

In fact, ratings had exploded back home; you couldn't sit down at a family meal without someone bringing up Han Sen's playoff run.

During pregame warm-ups, Jackie even came over with his son for a quick hello, and they took a picture together.

After the warm-up ended, the opening ceremony began, and the starting lineups were announced.

The Grizzlies stuck with their usual starters, while the Heat went back to their 'one big, four small' lineup.

As soon as the lineup was revealed, Randolph was practically rubbing his hands with excitement; he loved when the Heat played small ball.

Then the game tipped off, but the Grizzlies ran into trouble quickly.

Randolph got whistled for an offensive foul on a post spin, and Marc Gasol picked up a defensive foul soon after.

Those calls shifted the game's momentum. Memphis's twin towers were the key to keeping Miami at bay, not just for their scoring but for defending the rim.

With early fouls hanging over them, the dynamic would be totally different.

Foster was a true vet, saving the whistles for the most critical moments.

After all, in Game 6 against the Lakers, if Han hadn't pulled off his miraculous block and steal on Kobe, the Grizzlies' season would have ended long ago.

But tonight, the Grizzlies held their ground despite defensive foul issues, relying on high shooting efficiency to keep it close.

Halfway through the first quarter, Marc Gasol picked up his second foul—another killer. It was perfectly timed to force Joerger's hand.

Benching Gasol would weaken the defense, but leaving him in risked a third foul. With no choice, Joerger subbed in Faried.

Faried couldn't replicate Gasol's offensive post moves but made up for it with physicality and help defense. At one point, he cleanly blocked LeBron, drawing cheers from the Grizzlies' bench.

Though Faried's lack of height and experience affected his post defense, the Heat had no strong low-post threats to capitalize.

Bosh, who once had a low-post game, now mostly played on the perimeter to accommodate LeBron's style. Han's earlier efforts to reassure Faried were clearly paying off.

Still, the Grizzlies' troubles resumed when Marc Gasol returned early in the second quarter, only to be whistled for his third foul within minutes.

Furious, he let out a string of expletives at the refs. Compared to his brother Pau, Marc had a short fuse, though it was often hidden by Randolph's presence.

The refs slapped him with a technical, and Joerger had to pull him before he got ejected.

By halftime, the Grizzlies trailed the Heat, 46–50. The team returned to the locker room, visibly frustrated.

As they trudged back into the locker room, Randolph was the first to explode, ripping off his headband and cursing, "F**k! These bastards! I just want to smash them!"

Even Conley was frustrated. "Foster should've just stayed on the injured list. He's doing everything he can to screw us over."

"Even if it weren't Foster, they'd find someone else," Battier cut in, ever the realist with his years of experience. "The league wants to extend the series; they're just here to make money."

Tony Allen, who'd won a ring with the Celtics, nodded. "This isn't about who's better; it's business."

"I say we f**k them up! I'll knock LeBron down if I have to!" Gay, rarely in agreement with Randolph, chimed in angrily.

"Rudy, calm down," Battier reasoned, "You'd be suspended, and all our hard work would be for nothing. A scuffle could cost us the championship."

Han Sen, who'd been uncharacteristically silent, finally stood up, drawing everyone's attention. "Rudy's right," he said, catching everyone off guard.

Even Gay looked at him, stunned, unsure if he'd heard right. Battier was equally surprised; Han was never one to act on impulse.

Just then, Joerger and Damon entered the locker room.

"If they're not going to let us win tonight," Han continued, "then maybe it's time we flip the table. If we keep rolling over, the whistles are just going to get worse. We all know what went down in 2006."

The team nodded in agreement, and in that moment, Gay's hotheadedness looked like Han's calculated strategy.

"Han, have you thought about the consequences?" Battier finally spoke up. He knew Han was right, especially since they were up against the Heat.

But history had shown that rebellion could end in disaster.

"Of course," Han replied. "And you're right, Shane. That's why we're going to figure out exactly how to flip the table." His words left the team in awe.

Joerger chuckled. "That's the Han I know. Even when he's bad, he's prepared."

"Just pretend we didn't hear anything," he added, stepping out with Damon.

As a coach, he couldn't openly endorse any form of retaliation, but his subtle departure indicated approval. If Lionel Hollins were in charge, he would have likely shut down any such talk.

As the players headed back to the court, the commentary booth was buzzing.

Charles Barkley had already voiced his displeasure with the officiating multiple times, while Shaquille O'Neal remained quiet, unwilling to undermine his own legacy from 2006 by criticizing the refereeing.

"Shaq, if you were playing with this kind of whistle, what would you do?" Barkley teased.

"This is part of the game. The league changed rules to slow me down," Shaq replied. "When you're dominant, that's just what happens. The only answer is to fight through it."

"Not everyone can win under these conditions," Barkley countered.

Shaq shrugged, "Short of flipping the table, you're out of options."

Just as he finished, both teams re-entered the court, and the biased calls continued. Gasol soon picked up his fourth foul, forcing Joerger to bring in Faried.

Then, an unexpected pattern began: Randolph was soon subbed out, followed by Conley, both seemingly for minor physical discomforts.

Within minutes, the Grizzlies' lineup was completely altered, leaving only Han Sen and Gay from the original starting five. The unexpected moves had even the commentators perplexed.

LeBron readied to attack the paint, thinking the Grizzlies had resigned. But when he drove inside, Faried yanked him down hard.

The crowd gasped.

Furious, LeBron whipped around, but seeing Faried flanked by James Johnson, he held back. The refs immediately called a flagrant on Faried, but the Grizzlies didn't sub him out.

The crowd erupted in boos.

Then it escalated. On Miami's next play, Wade went up for a layup, and Bibby sent him sprawling with a push from behind.

Chalmers, furious, shoved Bibby, who tackled him to the floor. Wade and Haslem joined the fray, and Johnson and Faried piled on.

The court was chaos. LeBron managed a quick shove at Faried before backpedaling out of range, while Faried, seeing red, broke through the crowd, ready to go after him.

With referees, security, and fans getting involved, the court was pandemonium. The commentators and crowd finally understood—this wasn't just a game anymore.

As Shaq sat back, he had to admit, the Grizzlies had done what he said couldn't be done.

They had flipped the table.