It’s Not About Kobe.

As expected, Han Sen received a $25,000 fine from the league following the game.

But the story didn't end there.

The very next day Khalil published a fiery article on TNT titled, "The NBA's Downward Spiral with Biased Officiating."

"Dallas' championship in the summer of 2011 gave the NBA its biggest celebration in nearly a decade. If it weren't for the lockout, this season would've thrived like never before. But instead, referees are dragging the NBA into the depths. When a professional league loses its integrity, how can fans continue to love it?"

Khalil's article had one clear goal: to make this issue explode.

Anyone with half a mind could see the officiating bias wasn't just the refs' doing but linked to the league's inner workings. Only by raising enough noise could the situation potentially shift.

In truth, thanks to outside hype by personalities like Barkley and O'Neal, this playoff series had already attracted massive attention.

Shaq, furious over the calls during the game, ranted that the refs were clearly being paid by the Lakers and promised he'd call them out after.

Shaq's outburst was understandable; this series' outcome was tied directly to his reputation.

With all his years in the league, he could spot bias easily—he'd been both a benefactor and a victim of such calls before.

Once Khalil's article hit, it sparked a huge debate.

"Weren't all you Kobe fans so proud of your integrity? What happened—now the Lakers need league support to win?"

"Sure, we accepted the loss to the Mavericks last year—they were a historic team. But LeBron carried his team to the Finals without favorable calls. Unlike you guys, he didn't need biased whistles just to get to the conference finals."

"Back in the day, the Lakers benefited against the Kings and Jazz. Did they complain then? No one's clean, so let's drop the fake act."

Meanwhile, LeBron fans, hoping for the Grizzlies to eliminate the Lakers, were all-in on the 'enemy of my enemy is my friend' strategy and went full throttle on social media.

The buzz grew louder and louder.

At the Lakers' daily public practice, reporters began pressing the team on the officiating questions.

While the team initially tried brushing it off, the questions eventually reached Kobe, who finally shared his stance: "Games should be decided by the players."

Kobe, after all, wasn't LeBron; he still had his pride.

Not to mention, with Shaq now in the commentator's seat and a hot new star on TNT, the possibility of needing calls to beat the Grizzlies would give Shaq enough material to roast Kobe for an entire career.

...

Back in Memphis, Han Sen had his mind focused on beating the Lakers.

The Lakers were now one game away from clinching the series, and the Grizzlies had no safety net left.

Even with Kobe's statement, Han Sen couldn't predict how officiating would play out in the next game, knowing that Stern's motivations were not necessarily Kobe's.

The only way to truly resolve this would be to prepare for a five-on-eight battle.

And he had to be ready.

Compared to Kobe, who was nearing the end of his career, the league's real golden child was LeBron.

Even if they somehow made it past the Lakers, Han knew facing the Heat in the Finals would bring even worse officiating challenges.

In a way, this was just preparation for the next round.

Embracing the 'two heads are better than one' mindset, Han brought in Conley and Battier—two of the team's smartest players—to strategize.

Together, they agreed the key to beating the Lakers lay in stopping Kobe.

In previous games, thanks to clutch plays from Chris Paul, the Lakers had shown an even deeper reliance on Kobe than expected.

Allen, with Gay and Battier rotating, had already done an impressive job. But now, with biased calls for Kobe, things were different.

"I'll take Kobe," Han declared.

Conley quickly shook his head.

Although the Grizzlies didn't rely on Han as heavily as the Lakers did on Kobe, in the playoffs, the gap wasn't much different.

"I'm still the team's core. They'll hesitate to make calls against me," Han argued.

"Actually, that could work. Han could focus on defense for the first three quarters, while the rest of us handle the offense," Battier finally agreed after some thought.

"I'm fine on stamina," Han countered, shaking his head.

With Okafor back in form, their low-post strategies weren't panning out as well. Initiating offense from Han would be more effective.

Battier raised a brow in surprise.

"We have no way back. I need to do more."

Thanks to his teammates' growth, Han hadn't shouldered a full load like last season. But now, with the Grizzlies cornered, he had to step up.

If they could just get past the Lakers, then- while the rest of the games might not be easy- at least they'd see the path forward.

Battier and Conley nodded. Knowing Han's determination, they realized that once he decided, he'd see it through.

They hashed out defensive details, aware that Kobe was at the top of his game, and it'd take more than one player to stop him.

...

Amidst high anticipation, Game 6 between the Grizzlies and Lakers began in Memphis two days later.

The FedEx Forum was packed to capacity, with fans raising bold signs.

"Officiate Fair or Don't Bother."

"Don't Think You Can Get Away with It in Memphis."

"We Know Your Names"…

While some signs were deemed too direct and confiscated, Memphis' fierce energy was on full display.

Many forgot just how rowdy this city could get.

Even during the opening ceremony, the refs and Lakers were booed loudly.

Though it was the refs blowing the calls, the Lakers were the ones benefitting.

After the introductions, both teams' starting lineups were announced—no changes from the previous games.

Players stepped onto the court with steely expressions, and the tension in the air was undeniable.

Under the crowd's roars, Pau Gasol won the jump ball, and the game officially began.

Kobe glanced up, surprised to see Han guarding him.

He started with an off-ball screen, letting Paul initiate the offense.

Paul, in great form, drove to the basket after a pick-and-roll with Pau and scored on a floater, giving the Lakers first blood.

Han, after a screen, took the ball and blew past Metta World Peace with a quick crossover.

He felt a distinct tug on his jersey—Metta's doing, no doubt.

The refs didn't call it, confirming Han's suspicions: the officiating was indeed skewed, and Stern had little concern for the optics.

When it came down to it, were the Grizzlies any different than the Jazz or Kings of old?

As Han continued, Okafor stepped in to contest him at the rim.

Han, undeterred, went up strong, and his floater found the net, with no whistle from the ref.

By now, Han had gauged the officiating. There was bias, but it wasn't targeting the core players directly.

Just as he'd thought.

Why? Simple: foul out the stars, and there's no game to watch.

The only exception had been in the 2009 Eastern Conference Finals, where Stern had treated LeBron like his prized favorite.

While Chris Paul ran another pick-and-roll, passing to Pau, Pau was immediately blocked by Marc.

Though the highlight of this series had been Han vs. Kobe, not the Gasol brothers facing off- for those who paid close attention, they'd see Marc had grown enough to hold his own against Pau.

But the delayed whistle changed everything as Marc was called for a foul.

Boos echoed throughout the arena.

When Pau Gasol stepped up to the free-throw line, the stadium echoed with chants of 'Referee Sucks.'

Ignoring the crowd, Pau hit one of two free throws.

While the refs could ignore the fans, it was harder for the players to stay unaffected.

The Grizzlies ran a high-low play, with Marc taking the ball at the free-throw line, spinning past Okafor to drive to the hoop.

Okafor made contact, and Marc's shot bounced off the rim.

The refs stayed silent, but Randolph tipped in the rebound.

Marc didn't protest; he simply jogged back down the court.

After that loss in Game 5, they knew complaining was pointless. They were ready for a tough game.

And after that bitter loss, though his teammates hadn't voiced it like Han, they were all carrying a chip on their shoulders.

Seeing that Kobe hadn't asked for the ball so far, Han couldn't resist a jab:

"What, Shaq was right? You're that washed up, needing calls to win?"

Having faced Kobe enough times, Han knew his tolerance for trash talk, but also knew what would strike a nerve.

Sure enough, Kobe's expression darkened immediately.

Shaq, age, and refs—the perfect storm to ignite Kobe's pride.

Kobe waved off the screen, signaling Chris Paul for the ball.

Even knowing it was bait, he couldn't let Han get the last word.

Once he had the ball, Kobe called for isolation, the crowd booing in unison.

Unfazed by the noise, Kobe drove left, then stepped back, pivoting for his signature fadeaway at the free-throw line.

It was a classic move, one that had fooled Han before.

But tonight, Han was dialed in, matching Kobe step-for-step.

As Kobe went for the shot, Han rose and smothered it, rejecting Kobe's shot to the crowd's roar.

The arena erupted.

Han's defense was masterful.

And, crucially, the refs didn't blow the whistle.

This was all part of Han's plan: goad Kobe into a battle, knowing the refs wouldn't call everything.

Back on offense, Han noticed Kobe now guarding him, clearly heated.

If Phil Jackson were still the coach, Kobe wouldn't get sucked into these duels so early. Like that energy-draining one with Han Sen back in Game 4.

But Mike Brown? He'd just play along.

The way he pampered LeBron in Cleveland, he's now doing the same with Kobe in Los Angeles. He would never go against his superstar.

Seeing this, Han grinned.

Game 4 showed that if he and Kobe could cancel each other out over the first three quarters, the rest of the Grizzlies would have a strong chance to take down the Lakers in the fourth.

So, to ensure Kobe stayed in his headspace, Han Sen also signaled for the ball.

Cheers erupted from the crowd.

Game 4 had shown Memphis fans something important: Han Sen now had the strength to stand toe-to-toe with Kobe.

After Conley passed him the ball, he gestured to clear the strong side.

The camera zoomed in on Kobe, whose eyes were filled with deadly focus.

Han started to drive, but his attempts to get past Kobe's defense were repeatedly thwarted. Finally, he dribbled back to the top of the key.

Kobe's quick footwork and intense concentration made him nearly impossible to beat.

After successfully stopping Han Sen's drive, Kobe started in with some trash talk: "Come on! Is that all you've got?"

Han took a deep breath, pushed the ball forward with his right hand, lifted his left knee, and kicked back to plant his left foot, stepping right with a scissors move, while pulling the ball back with his left hand.

The crowd exploded with cheers.

This was… a Shammgod!

With his explosive speed, Han Sen pulled it off even faster than Irving.

And he wasn't finished.

Noticing Kobe's balance was slightly off, he closed in, pulled off a left-hand behind-the-back dribble, then switched to his right, spinning past Kobe with him as the pivot point.

Kobe was completely faked out.

To the roar of the crowd, Han Sen drove into the paint and, just before Okafor's help defense arrived, slammed the ball into the basket with his left hand.

Landing, Han Sen performed his signature celebration in his number 77 jersey, and the FedEx Forum was electrified.

Blocking Kobe on defense, outplaying him on offense—Han Sen's back-to-back plays exuded dominance.

But beyond his performance, there was something even more crucial in Han's message.

5-on-8? So what?

We can still win tonight!

-End of Chapter-